All I Want For Christmas Is You - Penelope Ward Page 0,20

employee,” he reminded me. “I shouldn’t even be having a casual whisky with you.”

I scoffed, “Reid, you’ve known me forever.”

“Another reason not to talk about this with you. Your brother is my best friend. And he’s a fucking gossip.” He threw me a quick grin.

Chuckling, I nodded. “Too true. But unlike Patrick, I am a vault.”

Settling back against the sofa, Reid took another sip and murmured, “There’s nothing to say.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” I’d grown to know Reid very well over the last six months, and he always seemed to have this never-ending source of energy. But lately, he’d seemed … frustrated or restless or something.

And today he just seemed exhausted.

“Do you miss Anushka?” I prodded.

Reid shook his head, his dark eyes troubled. “Not as much as I should. It never seems to be as much as I should. That’s the problem.” He smirked unhappily. “You promise our conversation does not leave this office?”

“Of course.”

“I always …” he sighed as if frustrated with himself as he scrubbed a hand over the dark hair he styled short. “It was just Mum and me growing up, you know. I always thought that once the success came, everything else would fall into place. Wife, kids.”

Surprise and longing burned through me.

Reid always came across as the perennial bachelor. I’d never have guessed he had plans to be a family man.

Apparently, I didn’t know him as well as I’d thought.

“I wanted what me and Mum never had. I wanted to give her a family. A daughter-in-law. Grandchildren. But I keep fucking up.”

“How do you keep fucking up?”

“I never make time to do it right with a woman. The store always comes first. What kind of family man would I make? A pretty shitty one. I’d end up turning my wife into my mum; essentially leaving her to raise whatever children we have alone.”

I considered this a moment, sorry for the bitter self-recrimination I heard in Reid’s tone. I understood then that he felt he’d failed. In all of his success, in this one aspect of life, he felt he was failing. “Reid, have you ever considered that you just haven’t met the right woman?”

“Emmy doesn’t count, but I’ve been with a lot of good women over the years.”

“Good woman doesn’t equal the right woman.”

“You mean like a soul mate?” he scoffed. “I don’t believe in that, Evan.”

I made a noise of irritation. “I’m not talking about soul mates. I’m talking about the person who feels like they … fit. The person who drives you wild.” Considering how controlled Reid was in everything he did, I asked (and hoped for a negatory answer), “Haven’t you ever been infatuated with a woman?”

“I’ve dated plenty of attractive women.”

“That’s not what I asked.” I chugged back my whisky and leaned over to refill it, trying not to roll my eyes at his cluelessness. “Haven’t you ever met a woman who made you lose your common sense? Who made your skin hot and your blood pump and everything else but kissing her, touching her, ceased to matter?” I blushed a little, imagining being said woman.

Reid tensed, gazing at me speculatively. “Have you ever met a guy who did that for you?”

I thought about Luca and lowered my gaze, feeling the old hurt still after all this time. “Once.”

“Who?” he demanded.

Wondering at his sudden glower and the reason behind it, I took a slow sip at my whisky, knowing my lack of a rush to respond would irritate him. Reid liked everyone to give him the answers to his questions with speed and efficiency.

“Evan?” he leaned toward me. “Who? Does Pat know about this guy?”

“I asked first.”

“What?”

“I asked you first if you’d ever met a woman who made you feel that way.”

“No,” he bit out. “Your turn.”

I shouldn’t have felt pleased by his response, but I really did. In fact, it elated me. So much so, I had to hide my smile in another sip of drink.

“Are you deliberately being irritating?” Reid asked.

I smirked sadly at him. “No. I just … haven’t spoken about it. To anyone.” Not even to my best friend, Cass. She’d asked. But I’d been too raw about the whole thing for a long time. My infatuation with Reid, however, had eased the hurt Luca left behind.

Concern flashed across Reid’s expression. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Emotionally, yes. His name was Luca. He was an Italian studying at Edinburgh. I met him in second year. I’d never met anyone like him. Italians are so affectionate and open and