Wram 86

Chapter 86 

Alexander 

I pushed through the doors of The Summit, the city’s most exclusive rooftop bar, and spotted Anthony lounging at our usual corner table. The Manhattan skyline sparkled behind him like scattered diamonds, a view that never got old no matter how many times I’d seen it. 

“Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence.” Anthony raised his glass, ice cubes clinking. “You’re late.” 

I slid into the leather chair across from him. “Some of us actually work past five.” 

A waitress materialized at our table, her practiced smile perfect. “What can I get you, Mr. Knight?” 

“Macallan 25, neat.” 

“Going straight for the good stuff.” Anthony leaned forward. “Must’ve been a rough day.” 

“Just the usual headaches.” The whiskey arrived, amber liquid catching the dim lighting. “Dealing with you might require something stronger.” 

“I am your oldest friend, and you treat me like some annoying business associate.” 

I took a slow sip, savoring the burn. “Oldest friend who keeps trying to play matchmaker.” 

“About that,” His grin widened. “The redhead from-” 

“Stop.” I set my glass down harder than intended. “I meant what I said on the phone.” 

“You’re acting stranger than usual. First skipping meetings, now turning down perfectly good matchmaking opportunities…” 

The corner of my mouth twitched. “Maybe I’m just tired of your terrible taste in women.” 

“The last three I introduced you to were literal models.” 

“And about as interesting as watching paint dry.” 

He studied me over the rim of his glass. “There’s something different about you. You’re actually smiling. Well, as close to 

smiling as you get.” 

I ignored him, focusing on my drink. 

“Holy shit.” His eyes widened. “You’re seeing someone.” 

“No.” I kept my face neutral, years of boardroom negotiations coming in handy. 

Anthony burst out laughing. “That’s exactly what I expected you to say.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I arched an eyebrow, swirling the whiskey in my glass. 

He pulled out his phone, thumbing through it with exaggerated flair before turning the screen toward me. A stunning blonde in 

a red dress stared back, all legs and perfect white teeth. “Met her at the charity gala last week. She’s doing a spread for Vogue next month,” 

“And?” 

“And I can arrange a private dinner. Just you two.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “She specifically asked about you.” 

I drained my glass, signaling for another. “Not interested.” 

“Wait, what?” Anthony’s jaw dropped. “Are you feeling okay? Did you even look at her? Those legs go on for days.” 

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“She’s attractive.” I shrugged, watching the waitress approach with my refill. “Just not interested.” 

“Since when do you turn down supermodels?” He leaned back, studying me like I was one of his medical puzzles. “You’re acting weird.” 

“Don’t you have actual patients to diagnose?” I asked, rolling my eyes. 

“Don’t try to change the subject,” Anthony countered, leaning forward. “Why are you rejecting her? Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’m fine, just not interested.” 

“Not interested? Alexander Knight, the man who has never turned down a beautiful woman, is suddenly not interested? Do I need to call a doctor?” 

I chuckled. “Aren’t you a doctor?” 

Anthony shook his head, exasperated. “Look, if you want private pics first, I can arrange that.” He started scrolling through his phone again with an exaggerated air of secrecy. 

“Seriously, Anthony. I don’t need-” 

He shoved the phone in my face. On the screen was the blonde from earlier, in various states of undress. One picture had her in a barely–there bikini, leaving little to the imagination. The next showed her lying on a bed, wearing nothing but a seductive smile and high heels. 

“Jesus,” I muttered, pushing his hand away. “You’re relentless.” 

“Come on! Look at her!” He swiped to another picture where she was arching her back provocatively on a velvet chaise lounge, completely nude. “If this doesn’t do it for you, I’m genuinely concerned.” 

I rubbed my temples. “Anthony, put your phone away before someone sees it.” 

He sighed dramatically but complied, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Fine. But seriously, what’s going on with you? You’re turning down a goddess.” 

“I’ve got other things on my mind.” 

“Like what?” His eyes narrowed with curiosity. 

I took another sip of whiskey, contemplating how much to reveal. Anthony might be my oldest friend, but he didn’t even know everything about my current situation with Madison. 

“Let’s just say I’m focusing on different priorities right now,” I finally said. 

Anthony leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Different priorities? Since when have you had different priorities that don’t involve work or women?” 

“It’s complicated.” 

“Ah,” he said knowingly. “Complicated usually means there’s a woman involved.” 

I said nothing, letting the silence hang between us. 

“Oh my God,” Anthony exclaimed, smacking the table with his palm. “There is someone! Spill it! Who is she?” 

“There’s no one.” I knocked back the rest of my drink, savoring the burn. “And what’s with you and Leo showing me naked women lately? Is this some new hobby I should know about?” 

“Those are professional shots. Half of them are from her 1* *****m anyway.” 

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“You’re scrolling through models‘ 1*******m accounts now? Should I be worried about your medical practice?” 

I 

“Hey, it’s called research.” He grinned, signaling for another round. “Besides, when was the last time you got laid? And don’t give me that bullshit about being too busy.” 

The image of Madison writhing beneath me flashed through my mind, her skin glowing in the moonlight, her soft moans echoing in my ears. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, adjusting my tie with trembling fingers, trying to banish the memory before it consumed me completely. “My sex life isn’t up for discussion.” 

“Since when?” Anthony’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You used to love bragging about your conquests. Remember that twins story from-” 

“That was years ago.” I cut him off, accepting the fresh whiskey from our waitress. “People change.” 

“Alexander Knight doesn’t change. You’re either hiding something or…” His voice trailed off, expression turning serious. “Or 

you’re still hung up on Katherine.” 

The name hit me like a punch to the gut. “Don’t.” 

“It’s been years, Alex.” 

“I said don’t.” My fingers tightened around the glass. “We’re not having this conversation.” 

“Fine, fine.” Anthony raised his hands in mock surrender. “We can just sit here and wait until we’re old men with gray hair and walking canes. Maybe by then, you’ll be ready to talk about your feelings.” 

I shot him a dark look. 

He swirled his drink, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s discuss Ms. Harper’s mother instead.” 

“What about her?” I kept my voice neutral, though something in Anthony’s tone made me wary. 

“Well, according to her charts, she’s making remarkable progress.” He sipped his drink, eyes twinkling. “The private room, specialized care, experimental treatments – all quite expensive. Funny how those bills just disappeared.” 

I shrugged. “She’s my PA’s mother.” 

“Right. Your PA.” Anthony’s grin widened. “The same PA you insisted get the presidential suite treatment. The same PA whose medical records you demanded I personally review.” 

“Madison is an excellent employee.” 

“Madison?” His eyebrows shot up. “Since when do you call your employees by their first names?” 

I cursed internally. The whiskey was making me careless. “She’s my personal assistant. It’s different.” 

“Different, how?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Different like paying hundreds of thousands in medical bills different? Or different, like the way your jaw clenches every time I mention her name?” 

“You’re reading too much into this.” I loosened my tie, suddenly feeling warm. “I’m just helping out a valuable employee.” 

“Sure, sure.” Anthony nodded sagely, “Come on, Alex. I’ve known you since forever. You don’t do charity cases.” 

“It’s not charity.” 

“The Alexander Knight I know doesn’t give a damn about his employees‘ personal lives. Hell, you fired Janet last year when she asked for seven days off for her wedding.” 

“She was incompetent.” 

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“She was the best PR manager you’d ever had.” Anthony pointed an accusing finger at me. “Face it, there’s something you’re not telling me about this, Ms. Harper.”