Free Undying Love by Nelle L'Amour

meet me at the Four Seasons at six.”
    He ended the phone call before I could say, “Yes, sir.”
    His curtness unnerved me. What did he want? No one said no to my father, including me. Fuck. I had less than an hour to shower, shave, get dressed in full suit and tie, and get uptown in the middle of rush hour. Being late for my father came with repercussions. I was going to have to take the subway.
    The Four Seasons bar was bustling. Well-dressed Fortune 500 executives were quietly mingling with each other, some with extremely attractive women beside them. Like my father, Charlotte hung out here too. Inwardly, I shuddered, hoping I wouldn’t run into her.
    I spotted my father right away, seated at the ample corner table that was permanently reserved for him. Clad in an expensive, custom-made gray suit and matching tie that went well with his slicked-back salt and pepper hair, he was already nursing his thirty-dollars-a-pop scotch. Women eyed me as I wove through the bar to his table.
    “Have a seat, son.” His eyes were steely, and his voice was cold.
    I nervously sank into the plush leather club chair across from him.
    His eyes stayed riveted on my face without blinking, and his mouth was pressed into a grim line. “Where were you this afternoon?”
    “What do you mean?” I shot back, hoping a waiter would come by soon to take my drink order. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him about my afternoon with Allee.
    “You weren’t at the shareholders’ meeting.”
    Fuck! I had totally forgotten about that dreaded meeting. My father expected me to be there. No ifs or buts about it.
    “I called your office. They said you weren’t in.”
    I fumbled for an excuse. “Um, uh, I was sick.”
    His menacing eyes lanced into me. “Don’t bullshit me, Ryan. And don’t ever do it again. You will pay the price.”
    With that, he slapped a hundred dollar bill on the table and strode off, his gait a blend of grace and arrogance. I was too numb to move. My own father, that bastard, had threatened me. Maybe, he should pay the price. But deep inside, I knew I could never beat my father at his own game. Or win a place in his heart.
    I needed a drink. Desperately. My eyes darted around the bar for a waiter and then they grew wide. Heading out of the bar, was someone who looked a lot like Allee. At least from the back. She had long, ebony hair that cascaded past her shoulders, well-toned calves, and slender ankles. And a perfect ass. Except it couldn’t be Allee. She was wearing a tight, mid-thigh blue dress cut low in the back and matching six-inch stilettos. She walked seductively in them like she was born wearing them. No, it couldn’t be Allee. I must just be fantasizing about her. Damn the effect she was having on me.
    “Why, hello, Ryan.” A too-familiar voice hurled me out of my fantasy. I looked up. It was Charlotte with a flute of champagne in her hand. She was dressed in a stunning tweed suit, Chanel I thought. “Do you mind if I join you?” She took the empty seat to the right of me. My stomach churned.
    She took a sip of her champagne. “I’m sorry about the other night. I think I may have had too much to drink.”
    “There’s nothing to apologize about,” I said without a trace of emotion.
    Her classically gorgeous WASP face brightened. “So we’re back together.” It was a statement, not a question.
    “No.” I was actually now glad I didn’t have a drink because it might have blurred my thinking and made me say things I didn’t really mean or want to say.
    Her cat-green eyes narrowed, and her voice took on a snippy tone. “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, it’s over between us. I don’t want to see you anymore, Charlotte.”
    Her face turned into a glacier. I thought she would throw the flute at me—just what I needed, another gash—but instead she slammed it onto the table. Inwardly, I sighed with relief as she leaped up from the chair. “Call me when you’ve come to your senses,” she hissed