Mr. Corporate (Mister #3) by J.A. Huss Read Free Book Online Page B

mind still trying to catch up with the fact that I’m on a tropical island with Victoria Arias. Alone. After not seeing her for more than three years.
    She still looks good. Better than ever, actually.
    But she’s still the same in other ways as well. That mean streak she has, that will never fade. I don’t doubt that Victoria Arias’ grandchildren will be whispering the words ‘crazy,’ and ‘wild,’ and ‘stubborn’ thirty or forty years from now.
    When she comes out the bathroom I feel more stuck than ever.
    I have so much to say to her and none of it should be said out loud. I want to scream at her. I want to yell insults and make threats to walk out of her life forever. This time, on my terms. Better than the way she walked out on me. I want to be meaner than she was. I want to throw more insults than she did. I want to make accusations that she knows to be true, just like that last night. I want to make her hate me and miss me in the same moment.
    I want to…
    I sigh.
    Because I don’t really want to do any of that. I want to say I’m sorry. I want to say I’ve missed her. I want to say there has never been another woman in my life like her and there never will be.
    I want to say… I love her.
    Because I do. I have never loved a woman whose name was not Victoria Arias. And I will never love another woman. I am destined to walk this life alone because she’s it for me. The beginning and the end when it comes to love.
    I had her and I lost.
    I had her and I chose to leave her behind.
    I had love and I chose blind obsession instead.
    So there’s no use feeling sorry for myself. I made this chasm between us. I am the empty space. I am the long drop to the bottom. I am the only one I can blame.
     
     
     

Chapter Nine - Victoria
     

    “It’s not even noon,” I say, after using the bathroom. West is eerily silent and contemplative as he stares out the window. It’s like he doesn’t even notice me. I dressed in these clothes to taunt him, wore this low-cut shirt to pique his interest. And all I’ve gotten so far is indifference.
    He’s always been that way, right?
    Big, strong, powerful Weston Conrad. Untouchable, I used to call him. And not because of his wealth or status. But because Weston doesn’t deal in emotions. He is impossible to rattle. Insults wash off him like water off a duck. He fields accusations like a major leaguer, throwing them back to home base, always preventing a score.
    He is indifferent. Always uninterested.
    “I know,” Weston says.
    “What should we do all day?”
    He’s not talking. He’s just staring out the kitchen window like there’s something magical out there.
    But then he gets up and walks towards the window, leaning his hands on the countertop as he tries to see something, but can’t quite make it out. “What’s that?” he says, stepping back and walking out of the kitchen to the main living area where he stops in front of the big picture window.
    “What’s what?” I ask, lost in thought. God, he looks… fantastic. I’ve seen him in magazines a few times over the past three years, and he always looked more like a GQ model than a businessman. But Jesus. I talked myself into believing that was all Photoshop and none of it was real.
    It’s real. He’s real.
    “Is that a storm?” Weston says, pointing out the window.
    I walk over to him, trying my best not to get lost in his cologne. Weston never liked to wear cologne when we first met. He was so different back then. But then I bought him some for Christmas that first year and he’s worn it ever since.
    That’s what he’s wearing now. Same brand I got him all those years ago. I’d recognize it anywhere.
    “Look, Victoria. Did you catch a weather report before you left this morning?”
    “It’s going to be hot in New York, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “No, that’s not what I’m asking,” he says, irritated. “Is there a big storm coming out here ?”
    “How would I know?” I