Sweet Fate

by Laurelin Paige

  “Honey,” Elizabeth said through gritted teeth. “We’ve been talking about this for months.”

  “I thought we were just daydreaming, babe. Donovan wasn’t involved so I didn’t take it seriously.”

  “Nothing’s ever serious until Donovan’s involved,” Nate said, as though he were part of the conversation, but the way he kept looking down suggested his attention was still devoted to something else.

  “Donovan’s involved now,” Elizabeth said definitively. “The next move is to expand.”

  “And the expanse should be in the United States. Specifically, Los Angeles.” Sabrina glared at her husband as if that was the way to coax support.

  Donovan hesitated for half a second before looking up from his phone. “We need to see a lot more numbers and projections before deciding on a specific location. I’ll hire a demographer to get us some more concrete information.”

  “He’s neither disagreeing nor agreeing with her. That’s a talent,” Amy whispered next to me.

  “Right? He’s placating her. It’s irritating. He’s probably way ahead of us on this, anyway. I’m sure he’s already done all the projections and settled on a location that he isn’t ready to share with the rest of us yet.” Normally I was fine with Donovan’s puppeteer methods, but today I was annoyed. With all of them.

  I’d tell them, too, if they ever gave me a chance to get a word in edgewise.

  “Don’t forget there are only five of us.” Weston’s voice had risen, calling my interest back to the screen. “Who’s even going to run a new location? Are we going to start adding more people to this board?”

  “Five of us? I count six here,” his wife said, annoyed.

  “I mean five owners of the company, Lizzie.”

  “There’s seven then because Sabrina and I are now owners by marriage.”

  Amy and I exchanged an irritated eye roll.

  “The point is, darling,” Weston said, barely keeping an even tone, “that we’re not going anywhere. We’re settled in France. Are you willing to move, D? Or is it going to be you, Nate?”

  When neither Donovan nor Nate answered, Sabrina stepped in. “We don’t necessarily need an owner at every office location. Tokyo has been running without one of us for almost a year now.”

  “That’s not exactly an ideal situation,” Weston refuted.

  “Is Cade ever coming back?” Elizabeth asked. It was the first time our fifth partner had been mentioned in weeks. The meetings where his name had come up previously had unraveled soon after. Cade’s leave of absence was a touchy subject, particularly since no one knew details about his departure save for Donovan.

  Sabrina once again nudged her husband from his mobile.

  “Cade will be back,” Donovan said without skipping a beat. “Eventually. When he’s ready.”

  Weston leaned forward. “Are you ever going to tell us what’s going on with him, D?”

  “No.” Donovan returned his gaze to his phone.

  “I think there might be a woman involved…” Sabrina started, but if she knew more, she was too loyal to her husband to say more.

  “Dylan, you’ve been quiet,” Elizabeth said, sending my brows up in surprise. I was rarely called on in these situations. She had to feel desperate for support. “What are your thoughts?”

  “Oh, this ought to be fun,” Amy said, rubbing her hands together. “Make it good.”

  I turned the mic back on, and decided to do just that. “My thought, thank you very much for asking, is that there are entirely too many people involved in these conference calls. When did our team meetings turn into an episode of The Newlywed Game? Even you, Nate—am I wrong, or is that Trish’s head in your lap?” If he was getting a blow job during our pathetic conference call, so help me God...

  Nate’s head shot up like a kid caught sleeping in class. “It’s the day before Thanksgiving! I’m not even in the office, for Pete’s sake. We really should have canceled this today.”

  “Ah, Thanksgiving. Right,” I muttered. “Surely the rest of us should cease our normal business practices because of your bloody U.S. holiday.”

  “We’re planning on celebrating here, actually,” Elizabeth said smugly.

  Weston’s expression softened and he grinned. “We have a lot to be thankful for this year.”

  “We do,” his wife agreed with a sigh.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  It took all I had not to slam my fist on my desk. “This is what I’m talking about—could we please keep the googly-eyed, lovey-dovey nonsense out of these meetings? This is a place of business, not a Netflix Christmas special.”

  Weston, that sad little goof, smirked. “Ah, poor Dylan. I bet it’s tough seeing all your friends in relationships that worked out.”

  “Fuck you very much, King. For your information, I’m more concerned about having to be here when all the romance blows up in your faces.” I’d never admit that his analysis of the situation was spot on.

  Elizabeth stepped in, as always, to admonish us. “I don’t think that was a very nice thing to say.”

  Her husband was offended. “Him or me?”

  “Both of you. I’m not sure Dylan would take that kind of criticism from me, though. Since he’s not my husband. And he’s not happy.” She tried to bite back a grin and failed.

  “I’m right here, you know,” I declared, glaring at Amy who was stifling a giggle of her own.

  “All right, all right.” Donovan stood up and leaned toward the camera, filling up the entire window in his quadrant. “That’s enough from everyone. This meeting has officially gone off the rails. We can discuss expanding again at our next meeting in two weeks. Goodbye to all of you.”

  He and Sabrina disappeared from the screen. Without waiting for the others to bid farewell, I shut down Skype then sunk back in my chair in relief. The madness was over. Praise the lord.

  “That went about as well as these things have lately,” Amy said after a significant silence had passed. “I should have made popcorn.”

  “There are too many cooks in the kitchen. That’s the problem.” And too many emotions. Specifically of the affectionate variety.

  Amy moved to perch on the edge of my desk and stared down at me thoughtfully. “I know you don’t want to hear this,” she said cautiously, “but it seems that your partners have found the right women for them. They’re annoying as fuck, and I feel sorry for each and every one of them, but they do all seem to be generally happier since they’ve settled down.”

  I narrowed my eyes and snapped. “You’re right. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “You do realize that your dim worldview on relationships has been tainted by one relationship.”

  “I’m a quick learner.” I let my smirk fade. “You’re also right about the rest. Their relationships are working out, and despite how it appears, I’m very happy for all of them.”

  “It’s still hard to watch. I know. Especially when you’re pining after someone you can’t have. I definitely know about that.” Her eyes glazed like she was remembering something or someone, and I wondered for a moment if there was a love story hidden in Amy’s past I didn’t know about.

  But before I could ask, she shook her head and refocused on me. “You haven’t been quite that grumpy this week, though, now that I think about it. Did something change between you and Audrey?”

  “Not really.” I frowned at the incompleteness of my answer. “Yes, something’s changed, but also nothing’s changed at all.”

  She nodded. “Ah. You’re shagging.”

  “I didn’t say... That’s not…” I was flustered, both by her uncanny ability to read me and by the frankness of the observation. “How did you get that out of what I said?”

  “We’re the same person, Locke.” She did a move with two fingers pointing at her eyes and then pointing at me, an eye check, as if to say I see you. “I get you.”

  “I’m glad somebody does.” My tone was sarcastic, but in all honesty, I was glad that she
understood me. Most of the time I felt like a man alone on a raft in open waters. It was an appropriate analogy, in most instances, but it was reassuring to be reminded that others were on the sea alone as well.

  “I’m sure Audrey does too, in her own way. And good for you, I might add. Banging is certainly my go-to method of dealing with unwanted emotions.”

  “You have emotions?” I managed not to crack until she did. Then I joined her laughter wholeheartedly. It was a nice break to the tension. I could have gone on for a little longer with the joking, in fact, if the phone hadn’t interrupted.

  I looked at the telephone console. It was my direct line, the line that only three people knew—Ellen, Aaron, and my mother.

  “We’ll talk later,” Amy said, slipping off my desk. She did the I see you gesture again as she walked out the door, and I picked up the phone. “This is Dylan.”

  “Audrey has been in London nearly two months, and still you haven’t called me,” Donovan Kincaid’s voice blasted through the line. Apparently he knew the number as well.

  And he wanted to talk about Audrey.

  No doubt my outburst during our meeting had led to this confrontation. That hadn’t been my intention at all. There were questions I should ask him, yes, but I wasn’t ready to confront the answers. I’d been avoiding this discussion with him for that very reason.

  I didn’t intend to have it with him now, either, if I could help it. “Audrey’s in town? Oh, really. That’s interesting.”

  “She already told her sister the two of you are friends. But I understand why you’re playing dumb.” Fuck, right. Her sister would know that.

  It didn’t mean I had to confess anything. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Look, Locke,” Donovan’s tone said he wasn’t in a patient mood. “She’s not going to be there forever if you don’t take the bull by the horns.”

  I hesitated. What exactly did he mean by that?

  It was probably just a general statement. Or it was a blind stab at trying to wind me up. If Audrey were leaving town, she would have told me. I clung to the same useless tactic. “Again, no idea what you’re—”

  He cut me off. “Do you need help with what action to take? Is that the problem here? Have you been too long out of the game to get how it’s played? I told you this summer, I have ways.”

  I already had my suspicions about those ways, and since he’d brought it up... “Did you have a hand in her internship at the Gallery?” I asked point-blank.

  “I might have dropped her portfolio and application into the email of some important people, but she wouldn’t have gotten the job if she wasn’t qualified, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

  “Jesus, Donovan…” This was exactly what I didn’t want to know. Though I was grateful for every minute that I got to spend in Audrey’s presence, interfering in her life was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “It’s a much better opportunity than the Boston internship, if you ask me,” he said, as though that made his intrusion better.

  “You’re the reason she didn’t get that job, too?” The man was clearly out of control.

  He bulldozed over my question as though I hadn’t asked it. “And frankly, it’s a little early in my marriage to have Sabrina’s sister living in New York.”

  “New York?” I didn’t try to hide my dismay. “Are you saying there was a job available in New York? Did you interfere with that as well?”

  “Another job with limited opportunity. She was much better off in London, and she wouldn’t have taken the leap if she didn’t have a little push. I did what I could. Don’t bother thanking me.”

  “I’m not planning on it.” He’d be lucky if I didn’t strangle him the next time I saw him. Audrey would have snatched a New York City offer up in a second. I knew how hard it was for her to be so far away from her sister. Sabrina was her only family.

  “You really are a sad sap, you know,” Donovan said, changing his strategy. “It’s pathetic. You weren’t like this when we first met.”

  “That was over a decade ago. Things have changed. I’m a different person now.”

  “You are. You’re a miserable person, and it’s time that you did something about it.” He waited a beat before adding, “Or I can do something about it…”

  “No,” I warned. “Do not do anything else. Do not. Do you hear me? You have done enough, thank you very much.”

  “I told you not to thank me.”

  “Donovan,” I said, my temper flaring. “Don’t interfere.”

  “I don’t think you mean that.” Before I could insist that I very much did mean that, he brought up something I hadn’t thought of. “If she decides not to stay in London, you’re going to want me to make sure she lands somewhere that’s good for her.”

  Well, fuck. He had a point there. I did want the best for her. But did I want it enough to condone Donovan’s methods? Now that involved a good hard think. What would be the best thing for me? For Audrey?

  “Well, yes,” I admitted. “That would be a kind thing for you to do. For Sabrina’s sake.” It wasn’t me interfering, after all. It was Donovan.

  “Speaking of my wife, she said Audrey’s been dating a lot.”

  “Not a lot, really.” Though, maybe he knew more about the situation than I did. “Did she say that exactly? That she’s dating a lot?”

  “Obviously it bothers you. I can help you with that.”

  Dammit, everything he said was a snare, and I’d walked right into this one.

  “It doesn’t bother me. Why would it bother me?” It was a sorry attempt at backpedaling. Even I knew it.

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know where you got the idea that something is going on between us. I find the girl a breath of fresh air, and we have become friends, but that doesn’t mean there is any scheme to try for more. You have to agree we are worlds apart, even if we do happen to live in the same location—temporarily, as you pointed out. I am fond of her, of course. I hope very much that she settles with someone who’s good for her.”

  He paused, and for a moment I thought I’d managed to shut him down. But then he asked, “Are any of these guys that someone? Tell me honestly.”

  Honestly? That was tricky. I didn’t like any of the men she’d told me about so far. None of them were good enough for her, but would anyone ever be? I didn’t think it was possible.

  What mattered was if she loved them, though. What mattered was if they made her happy. And so far, that wasn’t happening.

  “No,” I answered, digging deep and telling the truth. “They’re not.”

  “That’s where I come in. There are ways to make those relationships—how do I put this? Not work out, so to say. Give me the word, and I’m all over it.”

  Was that how Donovan thought relationships worked? Disgusting.

  On the other hand, it was tempting to consider. While no man would be good enough for her, there were at least men who were better than others. Did I want to be the one to decide who they were?

  I did, but not this way.

  “I think this is a journey she has to take for herself,” I said, finally.

  “If that’s how you feel, then sure. Let her do that. But call me when you change your mind.”

  “I’m not going to—” He hung up before I finished my sentence. “I’m not going to change my mind,” I said defiantly to the dial tone. Because I meant it.

  I wasn’t going to change my mind about interfering in Audrey’s life.

  I wasn’t even going to think any more about it as an option.

  Probably.

  Oh, hell.

  Twelve

  I watched as Audrey scrubbed the remnants of food off her dinner plate. She was careful in her handling of the piece, probably thinking that the china was fine—and it was. Some expensive set acquired during my marriage that I’d ended up with. I’d fought for it in the divorce, as I recalled, for no other reason than that it irritat
ed Ellen to give it up.

  The china itself didn’t mean anything to me. It usually sat in a cabinet in my lounge, more decorative than functional. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d pulled it out and had only thought of using it today on a whim.

  It had been a good inclination, in the end. Audrey couldn’t be with her sister for their traditional Saturday post-Thanksgiving Italian dinner, and I’d been eager to do what I could to make the event special for her. The china had been a nice touch. She admired the set more than anyone else ever had.

  And I admired her. Admired her ease around a kitchen, admired her sass and upbeat energy, admired how she looked just as beautiful standing behind a sink as she did covered with paint or dressed up to the nines or naked underneath me. Admired how one tiny person could make my flat feel not so overwhelmingly big and empty.

  She glanced over and caught me staring. “What?” she asked with a grin.

  I shrugged dismissively. “I’m regretting that second helping of dinner.”

  “I think you had thirds.”

  “I did. The third helping was marvelous. It’s the second helping I regret.” I waited for her to laugh before growing serious. “I know I said it already, but the meal was incredible.”

  “Nonna’s lasagna never fails. I’m glad you liked it. It’s literally the only dish I know how to make.” She finished rinsing off the dish under the tap and handed it to me, sending a pleasant shock through my body when our fingers brushed. “Thank you so much, again.”

  “For what? Eating delicious food?” I stacked the plate in the drying rack. Normally, I’d leave this task for the housekeeper to do the following morning, but I didn’t want Freja asking questions about who I’d dined with. And there were too many dishes to try to say it had just been me.

  “Yes, for eating my food. For not leaving me to celebrate today alone. For giving me a magnificent kitchen to cook in.” She turned the tap off and dried her hands on a towel before turning toward me and leaning her hip on the counter. “I’m incredibly appreciative.”

  It felt almost ridiculous to accept her gratitude. It had been a busy week at work for both of us, and though our daily calls had resumed, I hadn’t seen her in person since we’d painted her bedroom. I’d missed her and wanted her in my home more than she realized.