Swept Away by the Tycoon Page 13

  Slowly, his insides untwisted. They were here. No way would he turn back now. Planting one more kiss on her hand—for extra luck—he grabbed the door handle. “Come on, Curlilocks, let’s go track down my son.”

  It took a lot of persuasion, as well as a donation to the new building fund, but Ian eventually walked out of the office armed with the information he needed.

  “I don’t think I want to know the amount on the check you wrote,” Chloe said as they crossed the quad toward the building that housed Matt’s last class.

  “Money talks, Curli.” A small price to pay as far as Ian was concerned. He’d paid far steeper sums for far less important things.

  At least they were in between rainstorms. The morning’s steady downpour had faded to a drizzle, meaning more students would be out and about.

  Checking his watch, he saw it was five after the hour. “Class ended a few minutes ago. Why’s he hanging around after?”

  “Talking to friends, I bet. If he’s done for the day, he’s not in any rush.”

  “You’re right.” Ian couldn’t let his impatience get the better of him. “I’m sure he...”

  The doors to the building opened and a trio of students stepped outside. One look at the shock of auburn hair sticking out from beneath a baseball cap and Ian caught his breath.

  He’d recognize the cocky strut anywhere. The determined shoulders. He was looking at a younger version of himself.

  “Matt!” His voice rang out across the quad. The trio stopped, and so did he, a few feet shy of closing the gap. “Matt!” he called again, softer this time. The boy turned. It took a minute, but eventually his eyes widened in recognition. Ian raised a shaky hand. “Hey.”

  Silence filled the quad, stronger than before. “What are you doing here?” Matt finally asked.

  “I came to see you,” Ian replied. His heart permanently jammed itself in his throat. After all this time, they were finally speaking face-to-face. So many things he wanted to say. Where did he start?

  “Did you get my messages?”

  “I got them.”

  “Good. I didn’t know if the storm—”

  “If I wanted to talk, I would have called back.”

  What? Ian froze. “I don’t understand. I thought we...” Words failed him. “We’ve been talking.”

  “I answered a couple letters. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to get all buddy-buddy.”

  If he wanted you to know his phone number, wouldn’t he have given it to you? Jack had said. Ian had screwed up. Again. He shoved the self-pity aside. This wasn’t about him, it was about making things right with Matt. “I’m not looking to be your best friend. I understand I don’t have that right.”

  “And yet you’re here.”

  God, but the kid sounded so much like him it hurt. “If you’d give me five minutes—”

  “No.”

  A slap would have hurt less.

  “You need to hear your father out.” It was Chloe. While he and Matt were talking, she’d stepped up to stand at his shoulder. Her fingers brushed the back of his hand, a featherlight gesture of support. It was all he could do not to grab hold.

  Less appreciative of her presence, Matt stared her down. “Lady, I don’t know who you are, but I don’t need to do anything.” He washed a hand over his features. “Look, I can’t do this right now. I—I’ve got study group.”

  The worst thing about his son’s rejection was Ian deserved every single bit. Mentally, he backed away, giving the kid the space he needed. “I’m sorry, Matt. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “If that’s the case, then leave me alone. Find some other poor schmuck and call him. Just...ust...” He made the same face Ian made when searching for the right words. “Just back off.”

  “You want us to call security or something?” one of Matt’s friends asked.

  “Won’t be necessary. Right?”

  Ian nodded.

  “You don’t understand. Your father—”

  “Let him go, Chloe.” No need making things worse than he already had.

  Incredulity filled her expression. “Are you nuts? You can’t let him leave without explaining.”

  “Chloe—” Ian reached out to grab her arm, only to have her break free and jog after the trio.

  “He’s trying to make things right!” she called out to the kids. “Don’t you understand what that’s worth? How lucky you are?”

  “I’m lucky?” Matt whirled around, his eyes hard as stone. “I don’t know who you are, but that man did nothing for thirteen years. I’m not dropping everything because he decided to play father today. Now, leave me alone.”

  “But he—”

  “Chloe, stop!”

  Ian had had enough. Matt didn’t want to listen. The only thing Chloe’s pushing would do was drive the boy further away.

  She refused to give up the fight, however. Her eyes had a desperate, manic shine to them as she gripped his arms. “Go after him,” she demanded. “Tell him about all the events you attended. About graduation. He needs to know you were there.”

  “He doesn’t want to hear it.”

  “Then make him! Follow him and make him listen.”

  “And how do you suggest I do that? Tackle him and hold him to the ground?” Didn’t she realize he would if he thought forcing him would make a difference? Ian had messed up, pure and simple. What he needed to do was go home and regroup. Figure out how to fix what he’d destroyed.

  He watched as Matt and his friends moved toward another building. For one brief second, while standing in the doorway, it looked as though Matt glanced back in their direction, but he was merely holding the door open for someone else before vanishing behind the glass.

  “Jack warned me. He said I should be more cautious.”

  But Ian hadn’t listened, and as a result, he and his son might have had their one and only meeting. To think he might never hear Matt’s voice again cut him in two. What had he done?

  He never got the chance to apologize.

  Chloe still wouldn’t give up. She paced back and forth, her boots hitting the ground with hard steps. “You’ve got to go after him,” she repeated. “We cannot come all this way, go through everything we went through, only to turn around. Tell me we aren’t. That we aren’t quitting.”

  “For crying out loud, Chloe, will you be quiet? We aren’t doing anything.” The words burst out of him like bullets, loud and fast. “This is about my son. You want to work out your father issues, do it on your own time.”

  She looked as if she’d been struck. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  He could. He’d known it was only a matter of time before the monster inside him hurt her. This, he thought, as angry tears brightened her eyes, this was why he should have kept his distance.

  * * *

  The rain had returned. Chloe could feel the drops spitting in her face as she watched Ian walk away. With each step he took, the hope she dared to let hide in her chest grew fainter.

  “You were supposed to be different,” she whispered. Not like the others. He was supposed to stay and fight for the people he cared for. In her mind, the little girl she used to be gave up believing things could ever be different.

  She found Ian in his car, staring at the steering wheel. “I told you I was a miserable bastard,” he said.

  “You had a rough day. It happens.” The lame answer came from someplace she didn’t recognize. Guess the hope hadn’t completely died, as she was willing to forgive the outburst, even after he greeted her explanation with a humorless laugh.

  “I should have listened to Jack.”

  “You said yourself some things can’t be communicated in a letter.”

  “Because I know so much about parenting and relationships?”

  “You weren’t the only one who thought coming here was a good idea.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  He drawled the response, coating the words with bitterness. Chloe’s hackles stood on edge. “What are you sa
ying? You’re not blaming me for this trip, are you?”

  “Don’t give yourself so much credit. You only confirmed what I wanted to hear.”

  Slowly, she pulled her scarf from around her neck. The wool was damp from the rain, but she spread the cloth over her legs, anyway. Kept her hands busy. “Nice to know I had such influence,” she said, smoothing the plaid.

  Ian replied with a long exhalation. “I’m sorry.”

  For what? Insulting her or bringing her along in the first place? There were so many ways she could take the comment. “I’m sure you are,” she replied.

  He jerked the shift stick out of position. “Might as well get going. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

  An interminable drive at that. This time, however, it wasn’t the weather, but the distance between driver and passenger making the trip uncomfortable. Ian didn’t say a word and Chloe was too hurt, too frustrated, to try and draw him out. She spent the miles watching the rain streak her window.

  The few times she looked in Ian’s direction, her stomach churned into knots. His profile had turned so hard and reproachful, it hurt to look. Then there were her own insecurities. As much as she tried to tell herself it was the failed meeting with Matt causing his turmoil, she couldn’t help worrying. If Ian could quit on the one person he claimed mattered more than anything in the world... With every mile that passed without contact or conversation, his angry words rang louder, and her insecurities grew stronger.

  By the time they pulled up to the curb at her place, she was so tense she wanted to bolt straight from the car. “Home sweet home,” she said softly, as much to the window as herself.

  “Sorry I wasn’t much company.”

  Said in the same terse voice he’d been using since leaving the university, the apology didn’t hold much weight. He might as well have said “thanks for the good time” or “get out” for all the emotion behind his words.

  Well, she’d be damned if she let her hurt feelings show. “Guess I’ll see you at the coffee shop tomorrow.”

  “Sure.” At last some emotion broke through. Unfortunately, that emotion was regret. Compounded by his finally reaching out to touch her. His hand gently cradled her cheek. “Good night, Curlilocks.”

  He meant goodbye. She saw the truth in his eyes. It took every effort, but she managed to step onto the sidewalk without showing her pain.

  And to think this morning she’d actually almost thought about forever.

  * * *

  At least she could finally change her clothes and use her own hair dryer. Riding up in the elevator, she tried to list as many positives as possible. Anything to take her mind off the man who’d just driven away. She wouldn’t have to sleep in Josef’s nightshirt again, for example. One night was more than enough, thank you very much.

  She much preferred sleeping in Ian’s arms....

  Stop being a crybaby. Ian had endured a devastating rejection. He had every right to be distant and preoccupied. Only a self-absorbed ninny would make this moment about her.

  Except his kiss did feel like goodbye....

  And what if it was? The elevator doors opened and she stepped onto her floor. Not the relationship type, remember? You both said so. Relationships were for people like Del and—

  “Larissa?”

  On the floor next to the door sat her best friend, knees pulled tight to her chest. As soon as Chloe said her name, she looked up with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she said. “I don’t have my phone.”

  Her voice trembled as though she was barely holding it together. Chloe was frightened. “What happened? Are you okay?” A terrible thought occurred to her. “Is it Del—?”

  Larissa shook her head. Fresh tears filled her eyes. “T-T-Tom left me.”

  What? “Oh, sweetie, no.” She gathered the woman in her arms and hugged her tight.

  Once Larissa calmed down a little, Chloe led her into her apartment and sat her on the love seat. La-roo immediately curled into the corner like a miserable blonde ball.

  “I’m going to call Delilah,” Chloe told her. This was the kind of problem the three of them dealt with best together.

  “No, don’t,” Larissa said. “This is her big week. I don’t want to ruin it for her with my bad news.”

  “What happened? What do you mean, Tom left?” All Chloe could think was that Larissa misunderstood. Or she misunderstood Larissa.

  “He said he met this woman at work, another broker, and they ‘clicked’.” She framed the word with her fingers. “Said she ‘got him’ better than I do. At least I think that’s what he said. Honestly, I wasn’t listening. I was too interested in getting out of the apartment.”

  “If that’s the case, maybe you didn’t hear the whole story,” Chloe told her. That had to be it. “Maybe he had impure thoughts about this woman or something, and simply felt guilty. I bet if you call him—”

  “He said ‘I don’t want to get married.’ Not much there to misunderstand.”

  Dammit. Speechless, Chloe sank onto the sofa. Larissa was one of the good ones, too. Sweet, kind. Lovable. How could Tom walk out on her? What did that say about people like Chloe? “I don’t understand,” she murmured.

  “I know. Everything was going so perfectly, too. We had the wedding all planned out.... “Oh my God, the wedding. What am I going to do about the wedding?” She burst into a fresh round of tears. “Why did this happen?”

  Because men leave, Chloe thought as she rubbed her friend’s back. No matter how wonderful they make you feel, they eventually walk away. The best thing you could do was to walk away first before they could cause too much damage.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I KNEW YOU’D go off on your own the minute you hung up the telephone. Do you ever listen to advice?”

  “You can skip the lecture, Jack. I already know I made a mistake.” In more ways than one.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, Ian massaged his temples, hoping the pressure would chase away the headache pounding in them. “I got impatient. You know as well as I do I suck at self-discipline.”

  He heard Jack let out a breath. “Self-discipline isn’t your problem. It’s stubbornness.”

  “You forgot selfishness,” Ian added, raising his mug.

  “Where are you now?”

  “Where do you think? I needed solace, and I didn’t want to go home.” Another mistake, as things turned out. Opening his eyes, he looked around the vacant coffee shop. For the first time since buying the place, he found the atmosphere didn’t bring comfort. Instead, the bright walls mocked him. Reminded him of firelight and spiral curls.

  Amazing that it was Chloe he found himself thinking about. Matt was everything to him. His flesh and blood. The one real accomplishment in his life. Yet here he was, filled with as much self-loathing over hurting a girl—make that a woman—he’d known for less than a week as he was over hurting his son. How the hell did she get under his skin like that?

  “See what I mean about self-discipline?” Jack was saying. “You could be in a bar.”

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be. Only reason I’m not blitzed is I figured I’d screwed up enough this weekend.”

  Unfortunately, Jack could help him with only one of his mistakes. “I knew he was angry, but... I’d been so focused on apologizing.” He’d never stopped to think about Matt’s role in the equation. Ian had been selfish and stubborn as always.

  Chloe’s reaction had woken him up. He could still see her on the quad, desperate to make him to change his mind. And what did he do? Lose his temper. That’s when it hit him. Time pulled back and he was once again hurting someone he cared about. Only this time he didn’t have alcoholism to blame. Only himself.

  “So what are you going to do?” Jack asked.

  “Let her go.”

  “Don’t you mean he?”

  Right, they were talking about Matt. “What can I do? I can’t walk away. I need to apologize.”

  “You did apologize, Ian. In your first
letter, remember?”

  Ian remembered. “I didn’t tell him the whole truth, though. About the alcoholism, about watching him grow up.” He needs to know you didn’t forget him. Wasn’t that what Chloe would say?

  On the other end, Jack let out a long breath, a sign he was about to deliver a lecture. “Do you remember step nine?”

  “You know I do.” Make direct amends wherever possible. “I’ve been living the step for the past eighteen months.”

  “I know. Obsessively.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Another long breath. “It means you don’t have to be obsessive, Ian. ‘Wherever possible.’ Sometimes the best we can do is try.”

  “And if the attempt fails?”

  “You live as good a life as you can and hope someday you get another chance.”

  “In other words, I can’t make things happen on my timetable.”

  “I take it back, you did learn something.”

  Too little too late. Matt was furious with him, and Chloe...how the hell was he supposed to make amends to her? He wasn’t sure he could be in the same room without wanting to pull her into his arms. Even tonight, frustrated and angry as he was, he longed to drive back to her apartment. So he could hold her again.

  He must have sighed, because Jack asked, “What?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, then laughed. “Would you believe woman problems?”

  “This the ‘her’ you’re thinking of letting go?”

  His sponsor was damn perceptive. “She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met, Jack. Sweet, innocent...” Vulnerable, kind.

  “She sounds special.”

  “She is.” Too special for the likes of him. A man whose entire legacy was causing pain to people he cared about.

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “Nothing you can help with, unfortunately. This is one problem I have to solve myself.” His eyes fell on the black garment bag lying on the counter.

  He had one more amend to make. This one would be for her.

  * * *

  Having been up till five in the morning, Chloe did not appreciate hearing her apartment buzzer at nine-thirty. She rolled from bed, stole a glance at Larissa and headed into the living room. It was probably Delilah, worried over her two best friends calling in sick for work. “You could have phoned,” she snapped into the speaker.