Queen of Men (King Maker 2)

We held there for a second in suspended silence.

“I would have supported you. I would have even gone with you.”

That last part surprised me.

“But you love this place,” I protested, more because I hated knowing that I might have made a grave mistake.

“I do. But I loved you more. I’d been taking online college classes and you knew that.”

I ignored his use of the past tense. Instead, I focused on the rest.

Our community leaders encouraged a select few to take college courses and get degrees. They were forward thinking enough to know we had businesses to run for our survival. That meant trading with the secular world. We needed educated people to negotiate so that we weren’t seen as some backwards community.

“I did. But—” I began.

“You didn’t trust me with your dreams. If you had, maybe you would have understood mine, and my reasons for staying were for you.”

Ashamed and doubting myself again, I felt tears prickle the corners of my eyes.

He leaned back and faced the fire, stretching out his arms to warm his hands.

“I left shortly after you did and attended Penn State University.”

My eyes widened and I wanted to congratulate and hug him. Something in his gaze stopped me and understood why he’d put distance between us.

Lost, I watched helplessly as he stood and dusted himself off. The air between us felt like ice against my skin, but I made no attempt to move.

I’d said my piece. I’d given him my truth. That weight was lifted off me.

He would either forgive me or he wouldn’t. I wouldn’t chase him to change his mind. I let him walk away.

One last time, I let the tears spill from my eyes and I mused over the mess my life was. It felt like I’d lost two men I cared about in one day.

But this was the last time I would cry over either of them. Especially the turd. He could take his lass and shove it as I wondered what he was doing at that very moment.

Four

Kalen

Bailey. The beguiling woman had consumed my thoughts since she walked out of my office door.

Snow was still falling in heavy clumps when I pulled out into traffic in my Range Rower prepared for the weather.

Traffic was stalled, but I made decent time to Bailey’s apartment. I accessed the garage because I owned several apartments that I rented out in the building. Another thing I needed to explain to the woman who thought me a liar.

I barely got a hand up to knock on the door when it opened.

Lizzy stopped short with a hand to her chest.

“Jesus, you scared me,” she said pleasantly.

For a second, I had hope that Bailey’s temper had calmed and maybe she was ready to listen to reason.

I got down to business. “Is she here?”

Bailey’s best friend immediately went on guard dog duty. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened.

“And if she was, do you think I’d tell you?”

“Look, I need to talk to her,” I said, angling to see inside, hoping to catch sight of Bailey on the sofa.

Lizzy shifted to obstruct my view.

“She was very clear she doesn’t want to see you, Jeremy King.”

Her brow arched in a clear challenge.

I sighed and let my eyes drop. That’s when I noticed the suitcase at her side. I snapped my head up to meet her gaze.

“Where are you going?”

She lifted her chin. “That’s really none of your business. Besides, you out of everyone should understand the fine art of withholding information.”

I was a man who hadn’t begged for anything in my life even when I was starving in the streets of Edinburg. But I humbled myself before Bailey’s gatekeeper.

“I really need to talk to her.”

She eyed me a second before speaking. “She’s not here.”

“Tell me where she is. Are you going to meet her?”

“No,” she said, and I believed her. “You need to give her time. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll contact you.”

She pulled out her phone and I thought she was going to call Bailey. Instead, she lifted it and the sound of snapping a picture broke the silence.

Her face lit up with a grin. “And if you don’t give her space, I’ll be sure to post this all over the web. The elusive Jeremey King, Money Man, or Lying Thief, whatever they call you. And if you’re going to give yourself an alias, drop the n out of Kalen. Kale is more your speed. You know, the thing nobody really wants.”

She stepped back and closed the door in my face. I stood there for a second, uncaring about the picture. For so long I’d hidden in the shadows per my father’s wishes. Where had that gotten me?

I placed my palm flat against the door, wondering if Lizzy had been lying. Was Bailey behind the door? I almost knocked, unsure what to do in this situation. Never once had I ever wanted a woman enough to fight for her.