Page 15 of Up for Heir (Westerly Billionaire 2)
Maybe Mangiarelli’s will be where we forgive not only each other but ourselves.
An image of him leaning over her in the hallway of his office building teased her senses. Her body warmed as she remembered how good it had felt to be near him again. He’d always been attractive, but the boy she’d known had become a man . . . a yummy, confident, sexy man. His eyes were as deliciously dark as she remembered, but his face had stronger lines. He was still built like he could plow across a football field, but there was now a sophistication about him. She’d never imagined him in a suit, but damn, he wore it well.
One lunch.
That’s it.
We’ll talk about the past, have a few laughs, and leave with a sense of closure.
Yes, that’s why I’m going. I need . . .
Images of the two of them, pulling off each other’s clothing with lustful frenzy, temporarily overwhelmed her. She was there again, arching her naked breasts against his bare, muscular chest. His hands were cupping her ass, lifting her off her feet. She was once again wrapping herself around him, welcoming his cock, begging him to go deeper, harder. The memory shifted, and she was clutching the back of the couch in his garage while he rammed into her from behind. Her body clenched at the hot memory. Yes, they’d had problems, but sex was never one of them. Being with him had always been sinfully, blissfully easy.
Closure.
She shook her head and took a deep breath, glad she was alone.
The next morning could not go by fast enough. Normally Spencer lost track of the time while working on a project, but his eyes kept returning to the clock. He swore when he realized only fifteen minutes had passed since the last time he’d checked the time.
The door of his office flew open and his older sister, Rachelle, strode in, followed by an apologetic Lisa. “I’m sorry, Mr. Westerly. I told her you were busy.”
Spencer stood and stretched. He wasn’t getting much done, anyway. “It’s fine, Lisa. Hold my calls.”
“Yes, Mr. Westerly.” Lisa closed the door as she left.
With her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and dressed in jeans and a flowered blouse, his sister sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. She and Nicolette had a lot in common, although he doubted either would admit it. Nicolette considered herself the angsty rebel of the family. Rachelle saw herself as a second mother to her younger siblings. The three of them had once been close, but lately their visits were a harbinger of a headache. “What’s up, Rach?” Wait for it. Wait for it.
“You have to tell Nicolette that she can’t take money from Dad. Mom is beside herself.”
Spencer moved to the front of his desk and sat back against it. And they wonder why I don’t take their calls. “Hello, Rachelle. It’s nice to see you. Hello, Spencer, it’s great to see you, too.”
Rachelle sighed impatiently. “Could you be serious for one minute? Everyone is really upset. You shouldn’t have gotten involved. You know how Mom feels about Dad’s money.”
“Whoa,” Spencer said as he raised one hand out in front of him. “First, Nicolette asked me for my opinion, and I gave it to her. Second, money is not evil—people are. If Nicolette wants to take her father’s guilt money and do something good with it, you and Mom are the ones who should back the fuck off.”
Rachelle’s mouth rounded in surprise. “Did you just swear at me? Are you okay, Spencer?”
After twelve months of telling himself and everyone else that he was fine, he snapped. “No, I’m not okay. I’m pissed. Every fucking day. But do you know what I’m not doing? I’m not going to visit you at work and ram how I feel down your throat. Nicolette came to me. If that upsets Mom, then she can get over it. She does not get to tell us how we should live our lives anymore. When I think of all the crap she spewed about how keeping our lives simple would make us into better people. Being poor didn’t do much for her character, did it? It sure as hell didn’t make her honest.”
Silence hung heavy in the room.
What he’d said had been a long time coming, but he regretted the way he’d said it. Rachelle had gone pale. Spencer stood and ran a hand through his hair. I need Dicks Anonymous. Hi. My name is Spencer Westerly. I’m a dick. Not a recovering one; still a dick. “Sorry, Rach. This is why I’m staying away from the family. You don’t need this. I don’t want this. I was actually in a good mood before you came.” His sister’s face crumpled. Fuck. Even when I’m trying to be nice, I’m an ass. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I meant that today was a good day before—”
Rachelle raised her hands in a plea for him to stop. “I get it.” She stood. “I shouldn’t have come.”
Shit.
He sank into the seat next to the one she’d vacated. “Don’t leave. That came out wrong. I should think before I speak.”
“Why start now?” she asked in a tone that made him question if there had been a day of his life when he hadn’t been an ass. Then she smiled. “I’m just as bad. Sorry. Everything sounded better in my head before I said it.”
“I understand that feeling.”
She grimaced and sat down next to him. “I wish we could go back to the way we were before.”
“It was a lie, Rach,” he said bluntly. “I don’t want to go back, but we do need to find a way to move forward.”
“How do we do that, Spence? How do we piece our family back together?”
He shrugged one shoulder. If he had the answer, he wouldn’t have kept it to himself. “I’ll try to be less of a miserable prick. It may improve nothing, but I’ll give it a shot.”
Rachelle smiled again. “You sound serious.”
“Sadly, I am.”
“What do you need me to do?” she asked quietly.
If ever there were a loaded question . . . He looked across at his sister’s earnest expression and laid his hand briefly over hers. “Keep being you. Keep calling. Keep driving me crazy. Someday when I have my shit back together, I’ll be grateful for it.”
She nodded and blinked a few times quickly. “Join me for lunch?”
The alarm on his phone went off, announcing it was time for him to head out to meet Hailey. He silenced it and stood. “I would, but I have a date.”
Rachelle rose to her feet. “A date? During the day? Do you know this one’s name?”
He escorted her to the door of his office. “Funny. Yes, I know her name. We used to go out.”
“That narrows it down to half the women in the Boston area. Who is she?”
They stopped in front of his secretary’s desk. “Lisa, I’m going out to lunch. I may be back today; I may not.”
“Yes, Mr. Westerly.”
Rachelle linked arms with Spencer as they walked out of the office. “Are you going to tell me or is it a secret?”
“It’s not a secret, but I’m not saying anything yet.”
Rachelle stopped. “Yet? This sounds promising.”
Spencer pressed the call button for the elevator. “It’s lunch with an old friend.” His mood lifted at the thought of seeing Hailey again.
“An old friend, my a
ss. I’ve seen that look on your face before. In college. What was her name?”
Spencer pressed the button again. “Do you expect me to remember all of their names?”
Rachelle rolled her eyes and scratched her head. “As if you looked up from your computer and noticed any of them. Hanna. No. Heather.” She snapped her fingers. “Hailey. She was the only one who ever put that goofy, smitten expression on your face.”
Spencer opened his mouth to deny that he was meeting Hailey, but he’d never lied to Rachelle. “Goofy? Thanks.”
“Am I right? Is it her?” They stepped into the elevator together. “Oh, Spencer, be careful. You hid out at my place with what you thought was the flu after you saw her with someone else. You thought you were dying. She broke your heart. We all felt so bad for you.”
Spencer groaned as he hit the button for the lobby. The door closed. “You’re remembering it worse than it was.”
Rachelle made a face, but otherwise didn’t dispute his claim. “How did you meet up with her again?”
“She came to see me.”
“Out of the blue?”
“Yes.”
Rachelle made a disapproving sound.
“Say it,” Spencer said impatiently.
Rachelle touched his arm. “Do you think it had anything to do with how you and WorkChat are in the news lately? Mom always said that money attracts people—the wrong kind of people.”
“Hailey’s not like that.” He honestly hadn’t considered that possibility. The Hailey he remembered hadn’t been materialistic. “And if I ever do need relationship advice, trust me, Mom would be the last person I’ll turn to.”
Rachelle sighed, and they rode the rest of the way down in silence. “So where are you taking her?”
“Mangiarelli’s Pizza.”
“Dressed like that? They’ll think you’re a government health inspector.”
“First, they know me. Second, I distinctly remember you lecturing me a few years ago about needing to shed my jeans and T-shirts to look more professional.” Proof that there was indeed no pleasing his family.
“Did I?” she asked with a self-conscious smile. “Nicolette says I mother-hen you.”
