Page 14 of The Ice Queen in the Corner Office

When I finally got home, I should have been exhausted. I should have been ready to eat and fall into bed, but I was still antsy, still wired to get out and do something. I needed to find a woman, someone who’d take my mind off Jill, but I knew…I just fucking knew that no one-night stand would do it for me. A one-night stand wouldn’t do it, and I’d sworn off bars as soon as I’d opened my first hotel and decided I wanted a clear head to run my business and enjoy every moment of it.

Sure, I still went out to clubs occasionally, usually dragged there by business associates, but I didn’t put myself in that situation of temptation if I had other options.

I paced my small condo and ran my hands through my hair. I needed to do something, to punch something, to hang out with guys who knew me except…The only guys who knew me, the only guys I truly considered friends were the guys who’d helped me TP that prick’s house. I’d thought Jill might…I shook my head and dropped onto the couch.

What the hell was I doing? I’d built a successful business, I’d made my own way in the world, and I wasn’t going to fall apart over one woman. One gorgeous, brilliant woman with a heart of ice.

The problem was, I’d spent too much time on my business and not enough time on my social life. I’d been going out with the women who’d happened into my sphere, women who were convenient, but I hadn’t actively been looking for the right woman.

Maybe it was time to change that.

***

“I want a woman who’s got her own money, her own career,” I said. “Someone who’ll understand when I have to work all the time.”

Willow snorted, but she hadn’t stopped smiling since I showed up at our family home, where she still lived with our dad, and told her I wanted her help finding a girlfriend. “That’s not how it works, big brother.”

I stared at the brightly colored, energetically cute website. “Isn’t there any way to narrow down the women who’ll be emailing me? I don’t want to have to respond to a ton of messages from the wrong kind of women.”

She bit her lip in that way I knew meant she was holding back.

Willow was a genuine angel, and she hated to say anything she thought might upset anyone. She was the one who always tried to hold the family together, who tried to protect us all, even though that should have been my job or Dad’s job. “Let’s just see what kind of response you get. Do you have any other interests besides jogging and weight-lifting?”

“Only if I lie.”

She ran a hand through her thick curls and crinkled her freckled nose. She was eight years younger than me, and I’d never been quite able to see her as an adult.

“Why don’t you date someone from the neighborhood?” Dad asked. He was reclining in his chair in the corner of the living room.

He’d worked for decades as a forklift operator at one of the big-name warehouse stores, but had hurt his back falling off a ladder. He was on the ladder to help out a co-worker who was pregnant. He’d been on disability since.

He pretended it was no big deal, but the accident had aged him. Pain lived in every line of his face and in the way he held himself still, even relaxing in his recliner, so he didn’t aggravate the injury.

I’d been begging him for years to let me pay for surgery, since his health insurance was crap and had declared there to be no need for surgery. His stupid pride made him refuse, said I needed to be putting my money back into my business, not spending it on him. “Harry is back home to take care of her Momma. You always liked her.”

Harry, or Harriet Edgers, had been our neighbor growing up, and a friend. “Sure, I like her,” I said. “But she prefers women. You know that, Dad.”

He scowled. “She still playing for that team?”

I bit my lip not to laugh.

Dad wasn’t prejudiced, he just adored Harry and had been dreaming of the two of us marrying and giving him grandbabies since we were kids. Dad’s a big old softy, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

“She is, Dad. Don’t think it’s going to change.”

“Your profile’s just about done,” Willow said, ending our debate. “You just need to describe your ideal date.”

I considered her question, but the first thing that came to mind was Jill sitting across from me at my favorite restaurant, looking undeniably beautiful. Except she wouldn’t be smiling at me, she’d be annoyed with me, scowling at me. I needed a new MO, a new way to date, because the old ways weren’t working.

“Seats at a GU basketball game, hot dogs, and popcorn,” I said.

Willow frowned, but she typed it. “That’s okay, I guess. There’s a lot of competition on these sites, Alex. It wouldn’t hurt to be more creative.”

I tensed. “You haven’t been cruising dating sites looking for a man, have you?”

She pinched her lips tight together. “I wouldn’t call it cruising. But, yeah, I’ve got a profile. It’s not like the dating pool around here is very big.”

I stared at her. Logically, I knew she was an adult, but she was my little sister and she was so sweet and gullible.

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