CHAPTER 006
1160 Words
Mark’s POV
She knew what she was doing. I was pretty much sure she knew exactly what she was doing. I noticed her glances, the way she bit her lips when I had kissed her forehead yesterday, looking away when I caught her staring. She was beautiful, captivating—every man’s dream—but she was my best friend’s daughter. I wasn’t going to hit on her. Ever. Not even at gunpoint. After she left yesterday I just couldn’t rest easy, I couldn’t stop thinking about her when I had gotten home, to the moment I fell asleep, even in my dreams.
I sighed now, lit my cigar, and took a drag. She was something else. How could someone be so shameless as to tell her boss that the reason she came in late was that she was craving s*x and spent the previous night at a whorehouse? Her boldness was unnerving, yet I had to admit, I admired it. What scared me was how far she was willing to go to get anyone she wanted into her bed.
I tossed away the remainder of my cigar and poured myself a drink. She was alluring—my God, so beautiful. She reminded me of… Damn, now was not the time to be thinking about her. That train of thought made me want to kill the bastard who had done it. I downed the vodka in one gulp and poured myself another.
“Mark?” came that familiar voice, pulling me back to the present. I turned around to find her standing there, a stack of papers in her hands.
"Uh... this is the report of the previous transactions from the last two days. It’s, um... massive," she said hesitantly, and I smiled.
"Thank you, Sage. Anything else?" I asked, watching as her eyes flickered to my lips before quickly returning to my face.
Why was she looking at me like that? Like I was an apple she wanted to pluck from a tree.
I sighed and took another cigar, lighting it. Her eyes tracked the movement intently.
"That isn't good for your health," she remarked, and I smiled.
"Ah, yes, but what is there to be careful of? I’m an old man," I said, watching as she raised an eyebrow, her expression clearly saying, " Are you serious right now?
"Forty-one isn’t old," she said, and I laughed. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it. She was funny as hell. I shrugged.
"Well, compared to you, I’m an old man," I admitted. Her lips curled into a chuckle.
"You look young to me," she replied, and I turned away. God, was this really the same teenage girl I had known all those years ago? How had she become so effortlessly seductive without even trying?
This is Paul’s daughter, you i***t. Get a grip.
"Well, thanks," I forced a smile and grabbed my keys. "I have a date. Can you handle some extra tasks, please?" I said, watching her reaction. Her eyes darkened slightly. She looked upset, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe that vodka was messing with my head.
"Okay," she said softly. I nodded and walked away. I wasn’t lying when I said I had a date, but I couldn’t stand the way Sage looked at me—how she just stood there, staring, concentrating on my face as if searching for something. I turned to the window of my office. She was there, watching me. The moment I caught her staring, she waved.
I didn’t wave back. Just a small nod.
I didn’t know why, but my hands felt heavy. And I didn’t know why I didn’t trust myself to wave back at her.
"Mark!" a voice called, and I turned to see a woman in her late thirties—my date, Sabrina Meyers.
"There you are," I said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "You look radiant," I added, and she grinned, revealing pearly white teeth.
"Thank you, Mark," she said, pressing a kiss to my cheek—too close to my mouth, but I didn’t object. I just smiled.
I opened the car door for her, and she stepped in. Before getting in myself, I turned back to the window. Sage was gone. I sighed in relief.
Thank God. Now I can rest easily.
I slid into the driver’s seat, and Sabrina smiled at me. She seemed excited about this date. As for me? I just wanted to get it over with. I knew what women like her wanted—my fame, my wealth, the thrill of being able to say they had slept with Mark Arthur, and so on.
Well, I hardly cared. Ever since Bonnie died, I had lost all feelings. Sometimes, I wondered if they had died with her.
The drive to the expensive restaurant was silent—just the way I wanted it. But Sabrina wasn’t having that.
"So, huh? Who was that woman staring at you from the window?" she asked suddenly, and I froze. Wait… how the hell did she notice that?
"My best friend’s daughter," I answered, and she stared at me in surprise.
"Wait, you have a best friend? Everyone thinks you’re a recluse," she teased, grinning. "Does he work there too?" she asked, and I clenched my jaw, suddenly regretting this date.
"He’s dead," I growled, and she immediately stopped. I could feel her eyes on me, watching closely.
"I’m sorry," she said, her voice softer this time, and I nodded.
I missed the bastard. He was the only one who could make me smile. Well, and Sage too, even when she wasn’t trying.
"It’s not your fault, Sabrina." I turned to look at her. "You look beautiful, Sabrina," I repeated, trying to lighten the mood. She blushed.
"Thank you, Mark," she murmured, and I nodded. My mind was racing, but I didn’t want things to turn awkward, so I spoke.
"So, do you have anyone special in your life?" I asked, and she shook her head.
"Married?" I tried again, and she shook her head once more.
"My husband left me. Slept with an escort and then died. Turns out, the escort was a mafia spy, and they killed him… Well, I’m not sorry," she said bluntly, and I coughed, struggling to hold back a laugh.
"Jeez, Sabrina, that’s extreme," I said, shaking my head. For the first time, I smiled at her. She smiled back, twirling a lock of her blonde hair between her fingers.
"I don’t care. He deserved it," she said flatly.
I pulled into the back of the restaurant and killed the ignition. When I turned to look at her, she was inches away, her lips dangerously close to mine.
"I want to kiss you, Mark. So badly. I—"
I shut her up with a kiss.
Maybe this would help me forget. Forget about Bonnie. Forget about the stress. Forget about how revealing Sage’s clothes had been this morning.
- Writer
