Page 6 of Wrong Place, Wright Time
“Nah, man. That’s when I get to do whatever I want. Everyone knows the best part about climbing a hill is sledding back down. So imagine how much fun it’ll be sitting on that pot of gold then sliding back down that mountain.”
Pausing for a moment, I ponder his words as my mind wanders along the journey of my life until now. I’ve worked my way from nothing up to something, and then I turned that something into an icon with this bar. But now what? Now that I’ve made a success of everything I’ve put my mind to, where do I go now?
The answer comes in flashes, memories of smiles and gasps as I remember everything about my evening with Isla. And that's when it hits me.
“I think I want to get married and have kids,” I state, causing Ronan to choke on his drink.
“Youwhat?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding to myself as my mind takes hold of the idea with both hands. “I think this place is the peak of my mountain. It’s time for me to head back down the other side. I want to take a step back and start a family.”
“With who?”
“That part’s to be decided, my friend. But I have a pretty solid idea.”
“The date who left early tonight?”
I nod. “I’ve just gotta get her to lower her walls enough to let me in. Prove to her I’m the man she needs.”
“Because that’s theeasypart,” he says with a sarcastic laugh.
“Well, I haven’t met an obstacle I couldn’t overcome. So whatever is in Isla Wright’s past that made her think we were a bad idea, I intend to find out.”
“Wait. The girl you want to settle down with is IslaWright? As in Wright Media?” I nod. “Fuck, man,” he says, waving to the waitress to bring over another round. “You’re either insane, or you’ve got the biggest balls out of anyone I know. That family is old money. They could eat you alive.”
“Lucky I’m only interested in the daughter,” I say, downing the last of my drink as my resolution sets in.
lsla
“There are flowers on your desk,” Karen, my assistant and favorite all-round person, says when I get into the office Monday morning. “I’m guessing you had an interesting weekend.”
“Never as interesting as yours, I’m sure,” I say, entering my office and immediately spotting the arrangement of flowers in a variety of purple and pink shades that sits in a beautiful vase at the corner of my desk. They smell amazing.
“Read the card! There’s a card,” Karen says, bouncing on her toes as she clasps her iPad to her chest and waits for me to round my desk.
“It’s probably just from a client whose ass I saved with a well-timed article and a positive spin glossing over their bad behavior,” I say, plucking the card from the stand.
Karen smiles knowingly. “I don’t think so.”
I flick open the card and my heart hammers out a cheek-heating rhythm as flashes of memory—tongues on skin, fingers in hair andthrust, thrust, thrust—take over my mind. I have to close my eyes and place a steadying hand on my desk before I can even pretend I didn’t just experience a bunch of after tremors from the best sex I’ve ever had.
“What does it say?” Karen asks, her pointer finger pushing her glasses up her nose as her brown eyes go wide with eagerness.
“Ah.” I clear my throat. “Just a thank you card…uh…from a client. As expected.” I slide the card back inside the tiny envelop and tuck it under the base of the vase.
“I think they’re from a suitor,” Karen says. “But if you don’t want to share whatever made you blush like you’ve been sitting in the sun too long with your very best friend in the world, then I’m not going to force you. I can respect your privacy.”
“Thank you,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief as I sit in my chair. “It really is no big deal.”
“Obviously,” she says, moving a little closer as her grip tightens on the iPad. “I guess it’s just been so long since you’ve been on a date that you’re out of practice. So ofcourseyou’re going to blush when a man thanks you for a nice evening. I mean, it’s not like he thinks the plum-colored orchids remind him of your lips, right?”
I gasp and sit ramrod straight. “Youreadit!”
“Me? Never.” She places a delicate hand on her chest and feigns innocence. “Why, it’s just a guess that the purple are for your mouth and the pink are for…well, parts he probably shouldn’t name.”
My mouth and eyes both widen as I suck in a breath and try to decide whether I want to dissolve into a puddle of nothingness or pitch a fit and fire her on the spot. Although, we both know I’d never, ever fire her. Not only is she my bestie, but she’s also the best damn PA I’ve ever had. The woman is invaluable and puts up with all of the Wright family political drama like a champ.
“So…who’s the lucky guy?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows as I look at her through parted fingers.
