He wasn’t even sure he had one to give.
Pouring himself a drink from the twenty-year old bottle of Scotch, he glanced out his floor-to-ceiling windows, down into the sparkling valley. It was too idyllic, really. A veritable winter wonderland, with sparkling lights far below and the full moon bathing everything in a silvery glow. So pristine, so perfect. Like his hair, his clothes, his cars, his house.
Yet for all its stunning beauty, it was still cold, painful if you touched it too long, and capable of sucking every last bit of warmth from you if you allowed it.
Was there someone out there for him, hidden beneath all that perfection? Someone who would be his perfect mate in every way?
He almost laughed. Not likely. To be more than just a blip on his radar, she would have to have a spotless past, one capable of standing up to the intense scrutiny of the watch dogs intent on keeping the Harrison name pure and scandal-free. She would have to be strong enough to share the great weight of his success as well as the benefits. Intelligence, wit, and a sense of humor were absolute musts. Aidan wanted a woman he could talk to and laugh with. He had more than enough attractive but essentially useless possessions; his wife would not be another.
Those were the obvious things, of course, the things any man in his position would desire. In truth, he’d run across several prospects in the last few years that would have satisfied those requisites beautifully, and would have been quite happy for the opportunity to prove it.
But it wasn’t enough. Aidan needed more than a trophy wife capable of standing up to public –and not so public - scrutiny. He needed a woman who could love him and want him in spite of his success, not because of it; a woman who could find happiness with him even if he suddenly decided to say “fuck it” and just walk away from it all.
Not that he would, of course. Aidan liked his excessive wealth, just as he liked the power and prestige that came with it. But unlike many of his peers who married for business or social reasons, he would not marry a woman who didn’t love him.
A woman who wanted him for more than his bottom line.
And therein lay the crux of his problem.
He drained his glass and wondered, not for the first time, if the whole croie thing only applied to the full-blooded and ancient Irish Callaghan clan, or if anybody could dare hope for such a thing.
His sister, Rebecca, believed there was someone out there for him, but he wasn’t so sure. Rebecca had more faith in her little finger than he had in his entire body. Maybe it was as simple as believing.
He snorted softly. As if believing in anything was easy for him. He was a man who made his own path, was responsible for his own destiny. The very things that made him successful in life and in business – his drive, his need to control, his intelligence, his experience – also taught him to be wary and suspicious of everyone outside of an exclusive few.
It was human nature. People could say what they wanted; they could spout clichés about money not buying happiness, but when it came right down to it, there were any number of people willing to do just about anything to get what he had. Women looked at him and immediately saw dollar signs flashing in front of their eyes, their minds conjuring a future of diamonds and furs and decadent luxury. And it would all be true, because if he ever did find a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, he would give her everything.
Unfortunately, most of the women he met were so blinded by his wealth and power that they looked right past him. Not the well-coiffed, designer-clad billionaire, but the man inside. Maybe, for a little while, he had to stop being Aidan Harrison, wealthy CEO playboy, and start simply being Aidan Harrison, the man.
But how?
One thing was certain, he wasn’t going to find the answer by standing alone in his opulent office drinking finely-aged Scotch. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, after all. The perfect time to try something new.
With a sigh, he locked up his private office. Instead of taking the main bank of elevators, he veered toward the right, preferring the less used employee-only stairwell. In his current state, he had no desire to run into any of the wedding guests or other revelers. He made his way down the ten flights, so caught up in his own thoughts it was almost a surprise when he found himself on the ground floor.
Avoiding the main lobby, Aidan took a circuitous route toward the side entrance where a young valet waited patiently for the next guest to come his way. This location was considerably less busy than the main entrance, generally reserved for those who highly valued their privacy.
“Jared, do me a favor?”