Filthy Beautiful Love (12 page)

"Okay. Thank God, because work was going to be really strange if you two had some secret past." Sophie grins and takes a big bite of the food on her plate.

"Now, in regards to work. I'm not great at talking about my shortcomings."

She glances up at me and her expression sours.

"We had a bad quarter and the company stock is down fifteen percent."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that CNBC and various news outlets are discussing why the company is tanking and what the CEO is going to do about it."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Colton. I didn't know."

I nod. "I don't do failure well."

"This is not a failure, Colton. You are not a failure." Her bright blue gaze burns on mine. "You're a CEO at age twenty-eight. That's pretty freaking amazing. And what company doesn't have poor results from time to time?"

She's right. "True."

"Do you have a plan for how you're going to fix it?" she asks.

"I do." I'd met with my senior staff all afternoon to devise a six-month roadmap that would pull us out of the red. Hence why I was home early and hitting the hard liquor. It'd been a brutal day, but at least we had a plan. I'd been shouldering this burden alone, not wanting to worry Sophie, but as she reaches across the table and takes my hand, weaving her fingers between mine, I see how wrong I'd been. Telling her – opening up this way – it hasn't made the situation worse – it's somehow made things better. It's at least put them into perspective. Work was work. It would always be there. There would be ups and downs. But this was my real life. This woman, who was taking me with all my flaws, and loving me anyway.

"You got this," she says, giving my hand a squeeze.

"Indeed." I squeeze back.

We continue eating, and then carry our dishes into the kitchen together. "I was worried for a second that your mood had something to do with Stella, or your divorce settlement," Sophie admits, rinsing the dishes and handing them to me one at a time to load into the dishwasher.

I shake my head. "No. All that's squared away."

"I can't believe just like that…it’s all over."

"Yes, sweetness."

"Colton, I’m…"

"I know. I’m over the fucking moon about this too. Pace suggested I throw a party."

Her brow wrinkles in concentration. "We should do it."

"Seriously? You want to celebrate my divorce?"

She shakes her head. "No. I want to celebrate us together as a couple. We could invite my family, yours, get everyone together to co-mingle."

"I like that idea." I lean across the kitchen island and plant a kiss on her mouth. "What should we do?"

"I think the only appropriate thing would be a pool party."

"Oh yeah? I didn’t think you’d ever want to go near the pool again."

"That’s the point, Colton. It’s time to move on and let go of the past."

My chest swells with pride. I love this girl.

"Come on, let's go upstairs." She takes my hand again. "I think a massage might relax you."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "You remember what happened the last time you tried to give me a massage?" The erotic images of us in the shower after her failed massage attempt are burned into my brain.

"I sure do." She smiles and pulls me from the kitchen.

Chapter Ten

Sophie

"This is so freaking weird," I say, turning to Becca.

"What is?" she replies, adjusting the ties of her bikini top.

"Dad is over there talking to Colton."
The man who purchased me at a sex auction, I mentally add.

"So?"

Becca and I both turn and gaze across the pool to where Colton and our father are standing under the shade of the cedar gazebo, sipping cocktails and talking casually.

"It's just weird," I admonish.

She shrugs at my discomfort. "We're big girls, Soph. Dad doesn't care if you're sleeping with a millionaire. Shit, he's probably proud. I know I am." She grins at me.

I roll my eyes, thankful for the cover of my sunglasses. She's crazy. The anxiety I felt planning this party was mostly over how my dad and Colton would get along. I've never introduced my parents to a man before. Especially not one who's seven years older, runs a company, and has his own mansion in Malibu. It's little nerve wracking.

My mom has made herself busy helping out in the kitchen, clearly uncomfortable letting the hired help wait on us hand and foot, even though Colton and I both told her numerous times to enjoy and relax. I don’t think my mother knows how to relax. It's something I'm just now learning how to do myself.

The day is pretty perfect though. The sun is shining brightly overhead. The temperature is perfect. Soft reggae music hums lazily in the background through the outdoor speakers and the bar is stocked with tropical drinks and icy bottles of beer. No one's in the pool yet, but brightly colored balls bob on the surface of the water enticingly. After much more laying out, I'm sure I'll be ready to take a dip myself.    

Collins and Pace are seated at the bar, each with a drink in hand. It's early still and Beth, Colton's personal chef, has everything prepped for a barbecue later. Which makes me even more curious about what my mother could be helping with inside. She's probably driving Beth insane. 

I take another sip of my mango daiquiri and try to relax.

Marta comes strolling through the patio doors like she's working a runway catwalk. For some reason the sight of her in her little red string-bikini makes my stomach knot. I hate that she and Colton had a fling – no matter how brief.

"Who the hell's that?" Becca asks, lowering her shades.

"Marta. She works for Colton as his personal assistant."

"She's gorgeous," Becca says.

Apparently Marta didn’t quite get the casual pool party theme, her makeup is expertly done and she's styled her hair in perfect waves that fall down her shoulders and back. My own hair is tossed into a messy ponytail and the only thing decorating my skin is a thick layer of greasy sunscreen. I feel the need to march upstairs, add mascara and lipstick and change into my pushup bra-bikini top. Instead I chug down the remainder of my drink.

"Refill?" Becca asks, chuckling at me.

"Yes, please."

Becca waltzes over to the bar, introduces herself to Marta and makes brief small talk with Pace and Collins, refills each of our daiquiri glasses, then stops to talk to Dad and Colton.

She finally returns with our semi-melted drinks in hand.  "What was all that about?" I ask, accepting the drink and slurping down an icy mouthful.

"Okay, first off. Colton's brothers are hot as shit."

I nod.
Duh
.

"I still think Pace and I could have had fun in Italy…" she says to no one in particular. "Second, don’t worry about Dad and Colton. They're talking about Colton's charity work in Africa and Dad is practically drooling, hanging on his every word. I'm pretty sure Dad's got a mancrush on your boyfriend."

"Thanks, Becs." I wondered what she was doing. Then again, spying for me was practically in the twin handbook.

"Third, Marta is nobody you need to be concerned with. Her tits are obviously fake and seriously, who wears heels to a pool party?"

I hadn't noticed her footwear, but Becca's right, her sandals have a four-inch heel.
Son of a…

"She's trying too hard, Soph," Becca continues. "You're naturally beautiful and men prefer that over fake any day. Trust me."

I release a heavy sigh. I know she's right. Colton doesn’t look at Marta the way he does at me. "She and Colton had a fling," I admit to Becca. "When he first separated from his ex-wife. I'm pretty sure she's not only seen my man's package, but she's had the pleasure of being on her knees before him, taking him deep into her throat."

"What a royal bitch."

I laugh, loving Becca's instant hatred for Marta.

"Seriously, sis, are you good with her working for him, given their past? If not, you should talk to him." The frown that tugs down her mouth is familiar to me. It's the same one I see whenever I look into the mirror.

"He had a talk with her. Told her that if she caused any problems between us, she'd be fired."

"Yes, but when she shows up here looking like
that
, something tells me you should have your own little talk with her. A nicely phrased,
back up off my man, bitch
, ought to do the trick."

"You think?" I'd never imagined saying anything to Marta directly, but now that Becca is suggesting it, the idea fills me with both anxiety and a strange tinge of excitement. I've never laid claim to a man before. 

I suck down the rest of my drink until the straw makes a loud slurping noise against the bottom of the cup. "Hold this." I hand it to Becca. Without giving myself the opportunity to chicken out, I rise from the chair and strut over to where Marta is talking to Pace and Collins beside the bar.

"Can I have a word, Marta?"

"Sure." She smiles at me sweetly and sets down her glass of white wine.

I lead her to the nearby set of cushioned chairs out of earshot of anyone else.

"So how is the redecorating going in the pool house?" I ask.

Shit
. I can feel myself chickening out. This is made all the more awkward by the fact that she and I are kind of friends. She's been kind to me. She's taken me shopping and stayed with me when Colton was out of town on business. Of course, it occurs to me that all that friendship stuff could have been an act to get closer to Colton by befriending me. It's just not in my nature to be mean and it turns out I don't have the first clue about how to start.

"It's on track. I emailed Colton a link to a set of designs that I like for the space, but ultimately it's up to him."

I'm left tongue-tied and unsure of what to say next. I think we both know I didn’t pull her away from the fun to have a private conversation about the new drapes for the seldom used pool house.

"Is everything okay, Sophie?"

"No. Actually it's not." I clear my throat, wishing I'd downed a third daiquiri before attempting this awkward conversation. "Colton told me about your past with him."

"Oh." She looks down at the stone patio between her pedicured feet.

"And while he assured me that he doesn’t have any interest in you, I needed to hear you say the same thing." I pause, watching her eyes and focus on breathing calmly. She doesn’t need to know that my heart is beating like a drum.

"At one time, I liked Colton. He's a smart, charming man. What woman wouldn’t fall for him? But over the years, I've accepted that he doesn’t view me that way, Sophie. I can promise you I'm over it."

I nod, still watching her, and unsure of what to say next. Geez, this is awkward. I should have made Becca come over here and have this conversation. Too bad we weren't really identical and couldn’t pass for each other because otherwise, I totally would have.

Marta leans closer. "Listen, the truth is, I know I can't compete with you. You're a gorgeous girl. And Colton loves you. If he hasn't told you yet, I'm sure he will, because I can see it whenever he looks at you…"

"He's told me," I admit.

"Oh. Well, like I said, I'm not surprised." She takes a minute, looking down at her polished toes again, before meeting my eyes. "I hope my working for him doesn’t bother you. If it does, I understand, but I love my job, and…"

I hold up a hand, stopping her. "It doesn’t bother me. I trust Colton. I just needed you to know he's mine now."

"I know," she says quietly. "I know."

I straighten my shoulders, my confidence rising. "Good. I am glad we had this chat. I'm fine with you continuing to work for him, but just know that I won’t tolerate you flirting with what is mine."

"I got it, Sophie," she says, her chin tipped down, as if some of her poise has disappeared.

I walk away from our conversation feeling slightly odd and a little sad. When I relay the specifics to Becca after sinking back down into my lounge chair, she waves me off.

"Do not feel bad. Listen, Marta is flipping gorgeous. She's a ten. She will have no problem finding a man now that she knows it's time to let Colton go. You did the right thing talking to her. Now everything's out in the open and there are no secrets. Plus now that you're dating a man as utterly attractive as Colton, you better get used to beating the girls off him. That was a good warm up."

I nod in agreement. "Okay, good point." How my sister got so wise, I have no clue.

"I'm happy for you, Soph," she says. "Like really fucking ridiculously happy. No matter what happens, I want you to live every day to its fullest. Laugh. Sing in the shower. Dance naked. Have sex with your man in the kitchen. Have lots of babies."

I gaze over at her, my stomach suddenly tightening into a knot. "What are you talking about? Why are you saying all this?"

She shrugs. "We just never know how much time we have left, that's all."

This conversation in the bright sunlight with Bob Marley singing
Everything's Gonna Be Alright
in the background feels totally wrong and out of place. I hate it.

I swallow down the lump in my throat. "You're healthy, right?"

She nods. "All I'm saying is that if cancer's taught me anything, it's to live every day like it's your last."

"Jeez. Don't scare me like that, Becca. We both have plenty of time for babies and everything."

"Of course. It's just that you've been focused on me for so long, now that I'm healthy it's time for you to focus on you."

"I've never minded a single second of being there for you. I would do anything for you."

"I know that. I just don't want you to have to sacrifice anymore." She smiles weakly. 

I hate that she's right. I'm ashamed to admit that there've been times in my life that I resented her. Prom our senior year of high school was the perfect example. I had bought the most beautiful long silver strapless dress and was supposed to go with the captain of our high school's basketball team, Johnny Knight. Instead Becca took a turn for the worse and our entire family flew to Houston for an emergency surgery. I feel so selfish for even thinking it. I finally threw that silver dress away last year. The tags were still on it. And the guilt didn’t end there. Now I felt bad that I hadn't donated it, but in a fit of anger, I'd stuffed it into the trash can instead.