Cruel (The Buck Boys Heroes 2)

“All right,” I say as disappointment tears through me.

I thought Slate was a no-go, but maybe a quick peck on the cheek is akin to first base for Juliet.

If it is, we rounded third based on the kiss we shared this morning in her office.

“She did want me to tell you that she won’t be by tomorrow.”

More fucking bad news.

“Why?”

“She has an appointment to tend to.” He glances back at the screen of his phone. “She wasn’t forthcoming with details. I didn’t push.”

He should have pushed.

Having her here, inside these four walls, has been welcome. It didn’t begin that way, but I enjoy having her in my home.

“It works out well, though.” Nigel says with a cheery note in his tone.

I snap my head to look in his direction. “How so?”

“The board called an emergency meeting for tomorrow afternoon I just received a secret memo about it.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I yank it out to see the notification of the meeting.

For fuck’s sake.

“Fine,” I growl the word out. “Tell Nara I want dinner in my office. You’re free to go home, Nigel.”

“I’m going to do just that.” He turns toward the foyer. “I’ll miss her too, sir.”

I face him again. “Who?”

“Juliet,” he says with a grin. “She’s brought something to this place that has been sorely missing.”

I ignore that because I can’t acknowledge it out loud.

“Once her article is complete, we may never see her again.”

“She’s not moving across the globe, Nigel,” I point out, frustrated with this conversation. “She works a block from here.”

“That’s close for me,” he agrees with a nod of his head. “It’s a world away for you though, isn’t it?”

Without a word to him, I head down the corridor before I slam my office door behind me.

Five fucking hours.

I spent five fucking hours listening to the board drone on about everything that isn’t going right.

Nigel took it upon himself to point out where the company is making profits, but the goddamn board was stuck on the deal with the sporting goods company that collapsed yesterday.

It’s yet another mark against me.

I sat through that hell until I called it adjourned.

The chairman of the board attempted to pull rank to keep me in my seat, but fortunately, the other board members were in a rush to head home to home-cooked meals and I suspect rendezvous with mistresses, so we called it a day.

Now, I’m on the sidewalk in front of the Bane tower about to head home through the alley that has become a shortcut of sorts for me.

I turn up the collar on suit jacket to help with the biting wind that has swept over the city since this afternoon.

A couple strolling by do a double take when they see my face, but they move on whispering something to each other.

I glance to my left to a line of people waiting to gain access to a restaurant.

At one time in my life, I would have leapfrogged that line while holding tightly to my mother’s hand.

It’s her favorite in the city, and that’s not because they serve a steak that melts in your mouth like butter.

It’s one of those places that paparazzi used to converge on to snap pictures of New York’s wealthiest as they were on their way to eat an overpriced meal and consume a bottle of wine that costs most than most people in this city pay in rent for a month.

I step closer to the curb to get a better look at those in line because I recognize someone.

Her hair is as red as I remember. Her profile showcases the same small bump on her nose that she’s always hated, yet never took that extra step to fix.

I turn away briefly because it’s been years since my mother has spoken to me, but something draws my gaze back to her.

That’s when I see the woman she’s with.

She’s wearing a black lace dress that accentuates every curve of her frame. On her feet are nude heels. She turns slightly, sending her brown hair whipping against the side of her beautiful face.

It’s Juliet.

“Fuck,” I mutter as two women walk past me.

“I’m game,” one calls out to me. “You did say you want to fuck, right?”

Her blonde-haired friend giggles. “I’m in. He looks like he can handle both of us.”

I can, and I have taken two women to bed at once.

I wave them away as I head down the sidewalk, my blood boiling, my heart thumping against my ribcage.

“Juliet!” My name snaps off her tongue laced in anger, confusion, and an ounce of disbelief.

Her head turns slowly. “Kavan?”

“Kavan,” my mother repeats my name but the warmth that was once there is long gone. “What are you doing here?”

I don’t acknowledge her. I head straight for Juliet.

“Kavan,” she says my name again, but nothing follows that.