Page 49 of The Risk Taker
I flick through the pages, stopping on a double-page spread of a heart-stoppingly handsome man in a power suit.
Exclusive Interview with Sullivan Beaufort, Beaufort Diamonds CEO.
“No. She’s already left. Early session,” my father replies.
“Oh, okay,” I reply, hiding my disappointment.
“Try her at lunch, catch her between appointments,” my father says.
My mother’s a psychiatric therapist. She’ll be in appointments until then.
“Good idea,” I murmur, my attention snagging on the young dark-haired billionaire in the article.
The earrings Callum bought me to wear on our wedding day were Beaufort Diamonds. Despite how beautiful they were, the memory of their signature blue box with buttery-soft silk ribbonsprings to my mind, making sourness coat the inside of my mouth.
The man in the image—the CEO—is standing inside their flagship store on Fifth Avenue in front of a giant fish tank. One filled with oversized clam shells draped in jewels.
Above him, worked into the tank’s design, is the company logo. A letter B inside a diamond, surrounded by fancy gold filigree. Just like the one on the inside lid of the box those earrings came in.
I swallow, homing in on the man in the image.
His eyes are ice blue. And a bolt of familiarity shoots me in the gut.
“Love you, Dad,” I say quickly. “I’ll call again soon, okay?”
I hang up the second he says goodbye and toss my phone onto the bed so I can bring the magazine closer to my face.
I read the text as fast as I can, not knowing exactly what it is I’m looking for.
Sullivan Beaufort, thirty years old. Yada, yada, son of Sterling… tragic family history…
My grip on the pages tightens, making the edges crease.
I read the text again.
And again.
“No way.”
I study the man’s face. He’s classically handsome, but his expression is closed off. Like a man who keeps his business and personal lives completely separate.
His blue eyes jump off the page, and I squint at them.
No…
I’m imagining things.
I close the magazine and walk over to the doors of the bungalow. Mel is wandering the shoreline; head tipped back in a laugh as she talks to her parents. I’ve always envied how well she got on with them. She and her brother are complete opposites.He’s a hedge fund manager making billion-dollar deals, while Mel followed her love of all things beautiful and went into advertising cosmetics and beauty products. She says she feels more empowered bringing people things that will make them feel good about themselves than she ever would making the kind of money her brother does.
And her parents are fiercely proud of both of them. They didn’t care what either of them did as long as they were happy.
I walk out onto the deck and rest back against the cool glass of the door with a sigh. It’s so peaceful here. So beautiful. But it’s only a matter of time before I have to go back to New York and face the music.
A dark head of hair breaks the surface of the ocean in the distance. Its owner proceeds to swim with broad, strong strokes back toward the shore.
“Of course he’d be a champion swimmer too,” I huff under my breath.
As the water shallows, he emerges, striding out with purpose, the sun beating down on his naked torso, making each droplet of water glitter on his muscles like diamonds.
