I never walked to work.
“The simple design is one of its strongest details. It allows the owner of the suit to put out the statement, the vibe. When placed on a man with your musculature, this fabric will mold to your body, almost like a t-shirt. I really hope they design some dresses or skirts soon, because I’d love to have something I could enjoy myself.”
I took the phone and examined the image more closely. I zoomed in so I could see the dark fabric and the quality of the buttons. The lighting from the back of the phone changed the appearance of the suit slightly, but once I saw it in person, I would have a better view. But honestly, I didn’t care much about clothes or fashion. I wore the nicest attire on the market, whether I personally liked it or not. I didn’t care about the clothes, just the statement they created. A soldier always carried his best weapon when he went into battle. When I stepped into a meeting, my suit was my strongest weapon. It protected me like armor, and it projected a web of defense.
She took the phone back and returned it to her clutch. “What do you think?”
“It’s nice.” I didn’t have the interest to say much more than that. Scarlet Blackwood could go into endless detail about just the fabric alone, but I didn’t share her same passion. On top of that, I was a man of very few words. I’d always been that way. Isabella used to tease me for it, but she never asked me to change. She adopted my form of communication, which was a wordless conversation.
Scarlet didn’t seem disappointed by my short response. “I thought we could get a few shots in the ideal location, perhaps along the French Riviera or Verona, Italy. Something exotic, if you have the availability, of course.”
I’d assumed we would do this in a studio. “I don’t mind making the trip, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving my son behind when he’s going through this difficult time.”
She pressed her lips together tightly and closed her eyes for just an instant. “Of course…I completely understand. That was an insensitive thing for me to ask.”
“It’s fine.” Diesel and Tatum probably didn’t need me, but I wanted to be there if something came up, even if it was just picking up groceries. I hadn’t been there for my son for the last ten years, and now I was committed to being by his side every single day for the rest of my life.
“We can do something local. There are lots of beautiful places right in our backyard.”
“That would be preferable.”
“Great. I’ll set everything up with your assistant.”
I gave a nod, my eyes set on her face. Her skin was darker than mine, with a natural tan that gave her a beautiful complexion. She had dark eyes as well, similar to my own. She had an innately exotic look to her, like she could be from Milan or Southern Italy. She didn’t possess a trace of an accent, so it didn’t seem like she’d relocated here. But her unique appearance caused me to stare—even more than I usually did.
“Now for the part you aren’t looking forward to…” She pulled out the tape recorder and set it on the table. “I promise I’ll make this painless if you trust me.”
No one had ever asked me to trust them. Trust wasn’t something that was given within a few conversations. It was earned over a lifetime, and even then, trust wasn’t guaranteed. Perhaps she and I had different definitions of the word. “I like painless.”
“The objective of the article is to flatter you. I want to paint you as the powerhouse billionaire whose reputation precedes you. But every other paper has written about your financial triumphs a million times…so I want more. I want the man underneath the suit. I want the vulnerability that doesn’t ruin your strength. I think people will find that much more interesting, and they’ll respect you even more.”
I didn’t do vulnerability. I didn’t do emotion. Very few people saw that deeper side of me, and the only people who witnessed it were my family. I wore my heart on my sleeve with Diesel and Tatum because it was necessary. I now told Brett things I should have told him a long time ago. When it came to them, there was no holding back. But the world didn’t deserve the same from me. “No one other outlet has ever written a piece like that because it’s not something I’m interested in. I do my job, make my money, and then go home. I’m not obligated to share every thought, every feeling, with anyone.” I held her gaze despite the cold statement I’d just made. She seemed like a woman with good intentions. She was honest and up front, and I appreciated that. But didn’t mean I would give her what she wanted.
She didn’t show a single reaction, obviously unaffected by my callous response. “Mr. Hunt, you’re the one driving this car. We can go in any direction you choose. I’m just the tour guide. But I think an article like this would be beneficial to you. I understand you don’t want to share every aspect of your life with readers or strangers because it’s none of their business. Your personal life is separate from your business enterprise. But the world always watches every move you make. They’re fascinated by your success, your looks, and your presence. They’re hungry for more of you, regardless. At least now you can give them a piece of yourself—on your own terms. I don’t need to mention the problems with Diesel because it’s already
