I wanted a son. I wanted someone I could pass this business on to. I wanted a boy I could raise to be a man after my own heart. And I was running out of time. I was forty-nine, and I didn’t want another wife. All I wanted was another child to bring up in this world.
I’d lost my wife Clara when Lily was only three. It had been heartbreaking, but we’d gotten through it. Once upon a time – when Lily was still young – I had considered it. She’d been upset with me, telling me I was ruining what we had, forgetting Clara. I had understood here she’d come from. I’d let her have her way – spoiled her. Maybe that had been wrong. Now, I wanted something again. Not a woman–women were full of shit. A son.
When the meeting was finally over, I walked back to my desk. Serena came in with my afternoon coffee.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You had a call from a Miss Forbes,” she said after I took the coffee from her. “She asked you to call her back at this number.” Serena handed me a note with a phone number on it.
“Thank you,” I said again. “That will be all.”
Serena left the office. She was used to being dismissed. If a woman didn’t know how to make herself scarce when I didn’t need her, there was no space for her in my life. I didn’t do small talk, I didn’t do compassion, and I didn’t do anything other than what I was good at. And I was good at exactly two things: making money and fucking.
I dialed the number on the note and waited.
“Yeah?” Scarlett answered, her voice clear on the other end of the line.
“Scarlett. It’s Evan. You asked me to call.”
She sighed. “Yeah. I was hoping we could try that meeting again, if you haven’t found someone better yet.”
I swallowed. No one would be better or worse. They were all the same for my purposes, a walking uterus, a breeding machine for the heir to my throne. But I wasn’t going to say that out loud.
“I haven’t filled the position yet,” I said.
“Can we meet tonight?” she asked.
I glanced at my watch. “Yeah, I think I can squeeze it in. Meet me at Bar 54 at six.”
“I’ll be there,” she said.
This was going better than I thought it would after our first brief meeting. Maybe Scarlett would be on board after all.
Bar 54 was a rooftop bar, fifty-four stories up, that looked out over Manhattan. It had a classy feel to it with wood-paneled walls, a mirror tiled mosaic ceiling, and a bar that faced the window with wooden stools.
I sat there drinking a glass of Rough Rider Straight Bourbon. It tasted like self-confidence with a hint of Merlot, and it made me feel like I was king of the fucking world.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Scarlett said, coming up next to me and sitting down in the stool next to mine. She had undone her hair, and it hung in thick brown waves over her shoulders. “Thank you for meeting me.”
I stared at her. She was the epitome of sexy. Her eyes darted around the bar, her lips slightly parted as if she was slightly out of breath. Oh, God, yes.
“What can I get you to drink?” I asked.
“Just water, please.”
I raised my eyebrows. She was reserved. I wasn’t sure what to expect from her. I didn’t know what she wanted to talk about.
I ordered her a bottled water.
“You wanted to talk to me?” I asked when the water arrived. I poured it in a glass for her, and she watched the water swirl.
She nodded, taking a sip and setting the glass down again.
“I thought about it all again,” she said. “And I want to talk about your contract. I want to do this for you.”
“What changed your mind?” I asked.
She sighed. “I’m going to be honest. I’m not in a good place financially. I have a Master’s degree, but I can’t find a job, and I got an eviction notice today. I have so many bills, I’m drowning. Student loans. Credit cards. Overdue rent. That ki