Just Can't Let Go by Mary B. Morrison

Author:Mary B. Morrison [Morrison, Mary B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2016-05-18T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

Blake

“I’m glad you accepted my offer to come over, Blake,” Bing said. “You look amazing.”

Here I was again with a handsome man. The scent of his cologne greeted me first. He had on a white pullover collared shirt with khaki knee-length shorts that were neatly creased and brown leather sandals.

The fact that Bing was ten years younger, and he’d pursued me, made me smile. Better start giving myself more credit for being desirable. “Thanks for inviting me.”

I’d worn blue fitted jeans, a crop sleeved pink tapered top, and three-inch open-toed shoes. My hair was flat-ironed with a part down the center. Sandara advised me the combo would take a solid decade off of my fifty.

“I’ll give you the tour later,” he said. “Follow me.”

We shared a lounge chair on his deck. I could hear myself breathing. Crickets chirped in the distance. In front of the tall trees Bing had told me there was a lake. It was so dark in the distance that I couldn’t see water, but the stars shined like diamonds in the sky.

He handed me a glass of red wine. “A toast to the most beautiful woman and the luckiest man in the world.”

“Cheers,” was all I said, praying there would be many more toasts to come.

We sat, enjoyed wine. I should have more moments like this. Having been with Spencer and now Bing, I realized I preferred a younger, attractive businessman. The mixologist running the bar was not for me. Yet, Spencer was the perfect transition man that helped me get over my ex, Fortune.

Bing interrupted our silence. “I have a confession,” he said, refilling my glass first, then his.

“Only if it’s good news.”

“Okay, then I’ll come back to the confession. Blake”—Bing paused, held my hand, then continued—“from what you told me over dinner the other day, I want to let you know, I don’t need anything financial from you. I—”

Seriously? I was his banker. I might not be aware of all of his accounts or his liabilities, but the resources at our institution were a comfortable seven figures. My money was no comparison.

“I know that, Bing.” This was a man who probably had Swiss bank accounts, stocks, bonds, treasury bills, and more.

“I’m not putting you down. You’re a beautiful and intelligent woman. Seems to me you keep choosing to be with men who for whatever reason are, one, not on your level, and two, they don’t want you. They simply want to use you.”

Appreciate would’ve been a better word choice. But okay, the fact that he started with, I’m not putting you down, meant to me that he was. I was no charity case. Had to blame myself for sharing too much too soon. That was a fault of mine.

I held the wineglass to my lips, took a long, slow sip, then swallowed. “Sorry if I gave you that impression. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Think about it for a moment,” he told me; then he became quiet.

The more I reflected, I had to admit to myself, he was right.

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