supposed to get close. What did he know about her, really? Hell, how much did she know about him? Or his company even?
His great-grandfather had started with less than nothing and built Bellamy Enterprises from the dust of the Great Depression. The next two generations of Bellamy men had made it into the monster of a company it was when Lucas took over after his dad’s death. He was pretty sure his father and grandfather were rolling over in their graves with the changes he’d been making but Lucas liked to think great-grandpa would have approved.
The company still earned money hand over fist like it always had. He just didn’t make a habit of hoarding it or funneling it right back into making the monster bigger. Instead, Lucas put much of it into the community, contributing to hospitals and research and things like Rosie’s school. He’d even funded medical and educational missions overseas to some of the places most in need. There’d been a time he’d ignored charity in favor of the world his father had shown him, embracing his wealth and notoriety. Then he’d grown up and started becoming a man Rosie would’ve been proud of.
But falling in love was completely off the table.
He pushed the bar up again with a grunt. Rosie had loved the ballet and he’d be damned if he ever stopped feeding money that way no matter how much it would’ve pissed his father off. She’d been like a mother to him for years, but he still remembered the first time he’d taken her to the theater.
He’d caught her watching The Nutcracker on TV the Christmas after he turned seventeen. She was supposed to be cleaning for his parents’ upcoming holiday party. The look of horror on her face made him laugh so hard that he’d barely managed to get out the words when he promised not to squeal.
Like he could ever rat out the woman who nursed him through the flu. And also taken care of him during more than one hangover—those ministrations coming with calm and quiet lectures. She’d held his hand so many damn times he was surprised they hadn’t become fused together.
The next day, he’d presented her with her ticket to see the New York City Ballet perform. Two weeks later, instead of the dancers, he’d watched as tears ran down the cheeks of the woman who had raised him while his parents had been too busy being rich.
That one night led to conversations about her past and her husband. The man had been the love of her life. Perfection in skin she’d called him, always with a dreamy look in her eyes, like she could still see him to that day. Their relationship had become his gold standard upon which all others were measured. He wanted a woman who looked at him the way Rosie did when she talked about her husband.
Lucas left for college and set out on an absurd quest to find perfection in skin . Girl after girl, woman after woman, none of them measured up and he became jaded enough to think that kind of perfection didn’t exist.
His parents hadn’t really understood why he’d been so inconsolable when Rosie died. How could he tell them that she’d been the parent they’d never been—that it was Rosie who had taught him about love and understanding?
That with her gone, he had no direction anymore.
And damn it to hell and back if he hadn’t heard Rosie laughing every time he and Mercedes poked at each other. It was like her ghost knew how much more relaxed he was with Mercedes—how life had become fun again. All those years searching among high society and celebrities and his first glimpse of perfection in skin came in the guise of a charity worker from Queens.
Could Mercedes really be something worth holding onto?
Snap out of it, Bellamy. Just because she’s the most intriguing woman you’ve ever met doesn’t mean anything. Different doesn’t equate to special. The only difference between her and the others is this one’s not after your money. Don’t let your guard down or she’ll end up sneaking in and stealing the
His great-grandfather had started with less than nothing and built Bellamy Enterprises from the dust of the Great Depression. The next two generations of Bellamy men had made it into the monster of a company it was when Lucas took over after his dad’s death. He was pretty sure his father and grandfather were rolling over in their graves with the changes he’d been making but Lucas liked to think great-grandpa would have approved.
The company still earned money hand over fist like it always had. He just didn’t make a habit of hoarding it or funneling it right back into making the monster bigger. Instead, Lucas put much of it into the community, contributing to hospitals and research and things like Rosie’s school. He’d even funded medical and educational missions overseas to some of the places most in need. There’d been a time he’d ignored charity in favor of the world his father had shown him, embracing his wealth and notoriety. Then he’d grown up and started becoming a man Rosie would’ve been proud of.
But falling in love was completely off the table.
He pushed the bar up again with a grunt. Rosie had loved the ballet and he’d be damned if he ever stopped feeding money that way no matter how much it would’ve pissed his father off. She’d been like a mother to him for years, but he still remembered the first time he’d taken her to the theater.
He’d caught her watching The Nutcracker on TV the Christmas after he turned seventeen. She was supposed to be cleaning for his parents’ upcoming holiday party. The look of horror on her face made him laugh so hard that he’d barely managed to get out the words when he promised not to squeal.
Like he could ever rat out the woman who nursed him through the flu. And also taken care of him during more than one hangover—those ministrations coming with calm and quiet lectures. She’d held his hand so many damn times he was surprised they hadn’t become fused together.
The next day, he’d presented her with her ticket to see the New York City Ballet perform. Two weeks later, instead of the dancers, he’d watched as tears ran down the cheeks of the woman who had raised him while his parents had been too busy being rich.
That one night led to conversations about her past and her husband. The man had been the love of her life. Perfection in skin she’d called him, always with a dreamy look in her eyes, like she could still see him to that day. Their relationship had become his gold standard upon which all others were measured. He wanted a woman who looked at him the way Rosie did when she talked about her husband.
Lucas left for college and set out on an absurd quest to find perfection in skin . Girl after girl, woman after woman, none of them measured up and he became jaded enough to think that kind of perfection didn’t exist.
His parents hadn’t really understood why he’d been so inconsolable when Rosie died. How could he tell them that she’d been the parent they’d never been—that it was Rosie who had taught him about love and understanding?
That with her gone, he had no direction anymore.
And damn it to hell and back if he hadn’t heard Rosie laughing every time he and Mercedes poked at each other. It was like her ghost knew how much more relaxed he was with Mercedes—how life had become fun again. All those years searching among high society and celebrities and his first glimpse of perfection in skin came in the guise of a charity worker from Queens.
Could Mercedes really be something worth holding onto?
Snap out of it, Bellamy. Just because she’s the most intriguing woman you’ve ever met doesn’t mean anything. Different doesn’t equate to special. The only difference between her and the others is this one’s not after your money. Don’t let your guard down or she’ll end up sneaking in and stealing the
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