by JC Harroway
You could open the restaurant of your dreams.
As I listened to Gianni talk about his new menu and his busy day ahead, my excitement for the trip to Italy bubbled to the surface. I allowed myself to envisage a life without Hamilton’s. I imagined what advice my parents would give if they were here. I asked myself what would make me feel content and secure.
My stomach pinches as a wave of memories slams home. It’s been years since I opened my heart to dreams. Losing my parents affected every aspect of my young life. Schoolwork seemed irrelevant. I stopped caring about cute boys and securing my first kiss. Even my friendships suffered—some ending and some, a rare few, becoming more important and therefore all the more fragile. But, aside from the grief and loneliness, the worst aspect was the personal toll: I felt as if I had literally disappeared. As if I too no longer existed.
What did that teenage girl I was care for dreams? I was too busy surviving. Living with my grandparents, seeing them work hard, shaped me. They guided me along the path to follow them into their business. I never once stopped to wonder what else I wanted. For myself.
Until this feud with Sterling forced me to take stock and revaluate my goals. To ask myself the question to which a part of me dreads the answer: am I happy with my life?
I am passionate about Italian food. I love to cook. If my parents were still alive I’d have probably joined them in the restaurant. But can I really turn a love for Italian cookery into something more when I’ve previously only allowed it hobby status? Something I do to remember my parents and my childhood and my roots?
Why not?
I could take Sterling’s gift and start a brave new adventure. But doing that would force me to acknowledge my feelings for him and admit that he understands me, despite the way we met and the revenge-seeking circumstances under which we began this affair.
He’s right—I have been clinging to the past. It’s been my happy place. Before my parents died, I felt safe and loved and belonged to something bigger than me. After their deaths, the world seemed huge and dangerous and unfamiliar. I was lost as if I’d never fit in anywhere again.
I’ll never be able to repay my grandparents for their care, nor will I ever forget my parents, but it’s time to do something for myself. Time to be brave and forge a new path. To dream big and put everything on the line.
Just like Sterling, I too want a fresh start.
Perhaps we could start afresh together...
Because I want him in my brave new world. I want to try dating him. We have plenty in common and the idea that I won’t see him again once the sale of the newly formed Lombard Logistics goes through fills my veins with ice. But my heart is fragile. Untested and patched together like a frayed pair of jeans.
What if the stitches don’t hold?
I pound the esplanade, heading for the bridge. Shame for the pangs of jealousy that ripped through my chest last night, when Sterling talked about Monroe, chases me. His loyalty and integrity towards his ex-wife heartened me but also forced me to acknowledge my feelings.
Feelings that seem to grow with every step I take.
But the combination of his marriage failure and his need to prove something to himself after Marcus means he’s probably a league away from reciprocating those feelings.
My visit from a man I’ve never met before—Josh Brent, Sterling’s stepbrother—proved that Sterling isn’t ready to abandon his revenge. The betrayal was a blow strong enough to make me question if the feelings I have are the beginnings of love.
What else would bring such dreamy highs and crushing lows?
I slow my pace, heading down the steps to the street level that will take me under the bridge and back to the waterfront, down past the vintage carousel I loved as a girl. That’s when I see Sterling waiting at the kerb, his tall, athletic body casually leaning against the hood of his SUV. The last rays of the sunset glint from his sandy blond hair as he looks down at his phone.
My breath catches as if I haven’t run in a decade. Those deep, convoluted emotions writhe in the pit of my stomach. How can I love a man who stripped me of my livelihood and my heritage? A man so hung up on the past that he too has a brittle heart that may never heal. Even if he does have feelings for me in return, he’s been married before. He allowed the past, Marcus and his inability to move on to contribute to the demise of that marriage. Can I risk the fact that the same destructive forces might decimate our relationship?
Could I stand to fall all the way in love with him, only to lose him too?
I can’t pin my hopes for a new belonging on such feeble foundations. I need acceptance. Certainty. Security. I can find all of that within myself if I have to, although I’d rather find it with Sterling. But my bravery can only stretch so far. Unless he’s meeting me halfway, I can’t forge a new and terrifying career path and a serious relationship at the same time.
He looks up as I approach, his smile like a knife between my ribs. I go to him on instinct because I can’t stay away. I press my sweaty body against his and take his ready kiss, because I need it more than the oxygen feeding my lungs.
His arms come around my hips, slotting me between his thighs as he leans back against his car and kisses me back as if we’re a couple of teens on our first date.
‘I couldn’t stay away, not even for eight hours.’ His confession is planted against my lips. His kisses are wild and exhilarating.
‘How did you know where to find me?’ I ask when I’ve found the strength to pull back for air. I’m probably a red-faced mess, but his stare swoops the length of my Lycra-clad body in appreciation and he’s hard against my stomach. I want to make him sweaty too, so acute is my desperation for him.
But I want more than sex. I want him and I need to know if it’s a lost cause.
‘Judy told me.’ He brushes a wisp of hair back from my cheek. ‘She tracks your phone when you run as a safety measure.’
I nod, grateful that in a city of eight million residents—which can still feel like a very lonely place—I have people who care.
He cups my cheek, bringing my mouth back to his, making me feel every minute tendril of his care. He wouldn’t be here if he were the ruthless, heartless man I once believed him to be. He wouldn’t be here if his heart were filled to bursting with revenge.
But is there enough room for love?
Recalling my visit from Josh, who’d tracked me down following my visit to Brent’s, I taste Sterling’s betrayal once more, like acid in my throat.
Why didn’t he tell me Josh wanted his father’s company? I’m open and willing to be as vulnerable as I’ve ever been for him, to invite him into my terrifying future, and he’s cagey and uncommunicative, just like he said he was with Monroe. He doesn’t even trust me professionally, when I’ve given him everything.
My business. My expertise. My blessing, not that he knows this yet.
Josh’s fight for his father’s legacy helped seal my decision. I want to fight for that part of my parents I miss the most: our shared love of food. I want a restaurant like Girasole. I can honour both my parents and my grandparents by being happy and by being myself.
‘Let’s go somewhere to talk,’ I say, ignoring the desire building in me like steam. I need to confront him and give him a chance to explain. I want to know if I’ll need to stop craving him, to let him go...
He reaches behind him to open the passenger door and steps aside, guiding me into the vehicle.
The promenade is popular with joggers, dog walkers and tourists seeking that iconic New York souvenir snap. There are too many people around for the conversation ahead, so I direct him a few streets away to an empty parking lot near the waterfront under the bridge, which overlooks the carousel in the distance. At this time of night most of the businesses in this area are closed and the streets are quiet.
For a few seconds after Sterling kills the engine, we watch
the colourful lights of the carousel in loaded silence. Under other circumstances I’d find this moment, this setting—a twinkling Manhattan across the water, the string of lights across the bridge, the distant music of the carousel—incredibly romantic.
Except doubts flood me with chills. I feel them creeping up on me with futile inevitability. I rub at my arms and Sterling reaches for his jacket and drapes it around my shoulders.
‘Thanks.’ I meet his beautiful stare, something lurching in my chest. I knew I loved him as I signed on the dotted line today, releasing my company into his care, to do whatever he will.
I want him to be happy. If selling Brent’s and Hamilton’s will help him move on from his painful past, then I’ll no longer stand in his way, even if it means I’ll lose Hamilton’s.
‘I had a visitor at Hamilton’s today.’ Trepidation shudders through my rapidly cooling body. I’m so conflicted I want to jump out of the car and keep running rather than face this moment. But I need to know if what Josh told me is true.
And I need to know how he feels about me.
He casts me a side glance, wariness in his eyes. ‘Who?’
I swallow hard, foreboding cramping my stomach. ‘Josh Brent. He came in to tell me that he wants to buy out Brent’s Express, urged me to use any influence I have to beg you to reconsider. He said you won’t sell to him.’
Sterling’s nostrils flare with distaste. ‘How manipulative of him.’ He looks away, his face taut with repressed frustration. ‘I can only apologise for my stepbrother’s behaviour, something he’s inherited from Marcus perhaps.’
He’s shutting me out, sticking to his hard line and retreating behind his resentment.
‘It’s okay.’ My voice wobbles. ‘I understand his...desperation.’
Sterling huffs. ‘Do you? Don’t feel sorry for him. His desperation stems from being told no. He seems to think I owe him loyalty but there’s never been any closeness or family connection between us.’
I ache anew for the years that Sterling felt stifled in his stepfamily. ‘I don’t feel sorry for him, but I can empathise with his point of view when it comes to his father’s company.’
My tone is harshened by my own frustrations and disappointment. Doesn’t Sterling owe me loyalty? After everything we’ve shared, both professionally and personally?
‘If you want to waste your time on Josh, go ahead. I can’t stop you.’ He stares straight ahead, his bullish attitude highlighting just how out of sync we are emotionally.
Can’t he see how much I’m conceding and how little he’s giving me in return? ‘No, but you can stop the public sale. You could sell Brent’s to Josh instead.’
His head whips around, his glare astonished. ‘Why the hell would I do that? I owe him nothing. I was a ten-year-old kid when he came into my life and he was seventeen. He had a mean streak a mile wide. He took pleasure in calling me names until I reacted, then he’d watch with a smirk while Marcus dealt out some reprimand for my behaviour.’
‘I’m sorry about that—’
‘I foolishly imagined I’d have a big brother I could emulate and rely on,’ he interrupts. ‘Josh had endless chances to stick up for me, but he never took a single one.’
I reach for his hand on instinct, nauseous that I’ve brought his pain to the surface. ‘I hate that you went through that, but he was a kid too. You’d both lost a parent.’ I understand the confusion and devastation of that. ‘Perhaps he was struggling with the fact that his father had remarried and become part of a second family. That can’t have been easy.’ I don’t want to defend Josh—I know nothing about him—but I want to find something in Sterling’s heart other than vengeance. ‘And bullies are often bullied. Perhaps Marcus was as much a bully to him as he was to you.’
‘Perhaps. But in that case we should have had more in common than we ever did.’ His hand flexes into a fist in his lap. ‘If Marcus wanted his son to inherit Brent’s, why didn’t he leave it to him in his will instead of selling to me in some sort of final power trip?’
Anger spikes in me—a rapid thrumming of my blood. ‘I don’t know, but can’t you see the parallels here?’
‘What parallels?’ Genuine confusion creases his brow. It cuts deep. He really has no idea what I’m going through or how let down I feel by his refusal to sell to Josh and leave Hamilton’s alone.
‘If the building which housed my parents’ restaurant came up for sale, don’t you think I’d want to purchase it?’
His eyes brighten, momentary delight shining there as he comprehends that I’ve undergone a monumental shift in rationale. ‘I guess you would. I think that’s a brilliant idea.’ He squeezes my fingers. ‘But this is different.’
‘No, it’s not. Belonging is everything to me, Sterling. The idea that I’ll lose my family’s business has forced me to see that I can belong somewhere other than Hamilton’s. I’m waking up to the possibility of another life. But isn’t it the same for Josh? His parents are dead. Nothing can change that. But what if running Brent’s or even Lombard Logistics is what he needs to do to stay connected to his past? What if you owned my parents’ restaurant but refused to sell it to me out of petty revenge? Can you imagine how distraught I’d be?’
‘That would never happen.’ He clenches his jaw.
I ignore his assertions; they’re hypothetical, empty words. ‘Would you really deny Josh that for revenge over a man who isn’t here? You’re bigger than that. You always have been. You’ve proved yourself professionally over and over again. There’s no one left to impress.’ I’m impassioned, pleading with him to understand. ‘You think your past made you weak, but you’re wrong. It’s the opposite, in fact. It made you strong. Determined. Compassionate. A kind, honourable protector, just like your dad. This vengeful man isn’t you.’
I release his hand and cup his face between my palms. ‘Denying Josh won’t make you happy. I know, because I just saw it in your eyes.’
He looks away, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He doesn’t believe me. He can’t see a different way out. Not even for me.
I press on, desperate to see a glimmer of hope, because if he can open his heart, perhaps he could return my feelings. ‘If you could buy me that dry-cleaning business right now, would you?’
‘Yes,’ he says with zero hesitation that makes me want to kiss him. ‘But I care about you.’
His words sing through my nervous system as if I’m seven and happy and riding that carousel with my parents. I want to believe him. I’m just so scared that he’s more caught up in besting Marcus through Josh.
‘But you care about Brent’s and your revenge more.’ My whispered accusation reverberates through the quiet interior of the car.
‘That’s not true.’ His eyes flick about wildly. ‘Brent’s is a business decision. You...that’s personal.’
I sigh, all my fears converging at the back of my throat. ‘And yet I can’t detangle the two where you’re concerned. The personal has become more important to me than the business that’s the last tie to my loved ones.’ I blink away the sting behind my eyes. ‘Answer me one question honestly—if I hadn’t slept with you that first night, would you have sold me back Hamilton’s?’
I feel every second that he calculates his answer pulse through my head. ‘No, probably not.’ He frowns, his admission flat.
A part of me crumbles then. The feeling is so familiar. I wish I was in my office, staring out of the window at that strip of the East River. Perhaps then I’d find the strength to do what I must.
‘I signed over Hamilton’s today,’ I say, dredging up my last shreds of courage. ‘I trust you professionally. But also, I realised that I’m lost in the past and not living my own life. I want more—I want a fulfilling job and personal happiness. I want to chase my own dreams and I want to find a man to do that alongside.’ If I can move on and face a brave new future, why can’t he? ‘Do what you will
with my company. It’s you I want.’
He looks desolate. Not pleased, as I assumed, that his merger can finally go ahead, or that I’m laying everything on the line for the possibility of us.
But there’s no going back. Embracing hope means embracing how I feel. ‘I’m willing to change my entire life,’ I say. ‘To stop fighting for Hamilton’s in order to show you how much I care about you. I’m falling for you, and all I need to know is that you are willing to be open to a relationship with me without allowing the past to interfere.’
When he looks down for a split second, I have my answer. It’s a blade clean through those stitches in my heart.
‘I don’t know what to say.’ His eyes blaze. ‘You say you’re handing over Hamilton’s, but you seem to be issuing an ultimatum—us or the merger. I can’t have both.’
I fall apart then, like a cliff crumbling into the sea. ‘That you think that tells me exactly what I need to know.’ If he had feelings for me, he’d reorder his priorities. He’d support me the way he supports Monroe. He’d turn his life upside down to make us work, the way I’ve turned mine over and over. Not for him, but for me. Because I want him more than anything else.
With sudden desperation to escape the coldness in his eyes and the foolishness I feel for trusting my fragile heart to a man who can’t love me back, I reach for the door handle.
‘Good luck with the sale, Sterling. I hope you get everything you want from it.’ I leave the car, ducking to issue my final remark. ‘I hope your revenge makes you happy and that the emotional price isn’t too high.’
I run as fast as I can towards my future, my feet twice as heavy knowing that he won’t be a part of it.