Henry
One of the hardest things I’ve done in the past few days—other than not jumping on a plane to drag Sophia back to Baker’s Creek—is to try to ignore Sophia’s scent, her voice, her skin. Everything about her is addictive.
And her lips, I can’t get enough of them. This woman has a hold on me like no one has ever before. It took a lot of strength, restraint, and self-determination to abide by her wishes and not continue kissing her—or fuck her. Even more so to leave the house.
Even though the emotions from this encounter are gripping my heart and making it beat fast, I am calm. I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in the past couple of weeks. Which, like everything that’s related to Sophia, makes no sense. The hole her absence left a couple of weeks ago is now filled with the promise that she’ll be close to me.
She’s finally here, with me.
As I walk toward The Lodge, I try not to think much about her and how beautiful she looks today. Her dark, long hair is down, covering her bare shoulders, and the outfit she wears is casual and yet, she looks stylish as usual.
I make my way to the office just to drop my computer off. There is a lot I have to do around the hotel. We finally received the new furniture. The restoration of The Lodge is in its second phase. We’re focusing on the guestrooms. We closed a few rooms at a time to paint, change the carpet, and renovate the bathrooms. Now with the furniture here, we can furnish and open them as early as this weekend.
When I’m done, I head to my office where I collapse on the leather sofa. The erection our encounter created subsided during my walk, but that doesn’t mean I’m not on the edge. I need to have her, and she already put a big wall between us. That, and her family is in town.
What the fuck was I thinking when I said, “I’ll bring your parents?”
Don’t get me wrong, they seem like decent people, but they were not impressed by me. Not at all. If anything, they had a hard time hiding their animosity. I assume Sophia tells them all about me, and it’s obvious how she paints me.
What am I supposed to do now?
As if I’m invoking the Aldridge forces, Pierce enters into my office.
“Has anyone taught you the concept of knocking?” I ask.
“Says the man who barges into my office thinking he’s my boss,” he retorts.
“Great, we’re having a family reunion,” Beacon says, taking a seat behind my desk. “I don’t understand how you can call this work.”
“What do you need, kid?” I ask trying not to sound harsh.
“Hottie is here, and he’s still holding a grudge,” Beacon says. He places his elbows on top of the desk and says with a deadpan serious face, “My dude, you have to chill the fuck out. We need to talk about this situation. It’s obvious that you haven’t fucked in quite some time. Have you thought about using your hand to jerk off? Or do you always have your butler do it for you?”
Pierce is shaking with laughter. “I can’t with you, kid.”
I want to get upset, but even I am laughing at his stupid jokes.
“Get out,” I order, but neither one of them takes me seriously.
“Jokes aside,” Pierce says, “What’s wrong now, Henry?”
“You might have some advice since you’re married,” I say, sitting down straight. “How do you handle Leyla’s parents?”
“She doesn’t have any, and do me a favor. Never ask about them in front of her,” he says.
“So they had a fight, she doesn’t speak to them, and we should never invoke them,” Beacon tries to joke but Pierce actually glares at him.
“They are dead. And leave it alone, Beacon,” he warns him.
I have so many questions, but the way Pierce stares at Beacon tells me that I should keep my mouth shut and live with the curiosity for the rest of my life.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Beac actually apologizes. “I… That’s heavy.”
“It’s fine. Just never bring it up, please,” he says and then turns to me. “Why do you need help with the in-laws.”
“They hate me,” I answer and tell them how the drive from Portland to Baker’s Creek was.
Santiago asked me about the company, then the town, and then his parents’ accommodations. It was cordial but cold. Just like Sophia can get when she’s mad at me. Then her mother barely spoke to me, and her father gave me a long explanation about working hours, working for a living and not living for work, and that maybe I should try to be more empathic about my employees.
“I’d say be yourself, but that won’t help you,” Beacon jokes, and I glare at him. “Listen, I don’t have experience with parents because I don’t go steady. However, G’s family likes me because I try to be part of them. Like on Sundays, when they have dinner I help cook, wash dishes, or do chores and chat with them. It’s about opening to them and getting to know them.”
“This is the friend you’ve been hanging with since you were a toddler?” I ask, not amused by his advice. “They already like you.”
“That’s all my experience,” he offers. “Try it and while you’re at it, get rid of the asshole within. Nobody likes him.”
“Thank you?”
He shrugs. “Now, I need your help. As you know, Too Far from Grace’s The Most Epic tour starts in September, and there’s no way I can make curfew during the European leg.”
“I’m trying my best, but I doubt I can get that fixed, Beacon,” Pierce intercedes. “You have to cancel that tour. I wouldn’t even go outside of Baker’s Creek if I were you.”
He sighs. “Keep trying, please.”
With that, he stands up and leaves.
“Are you really trying?” I ask Pierce.
He nods. “Yeah, his agent is helping me too. But that’s not why I came to see you. I got a call from a Martina Edelstein.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose because I only need her banking account information so I can transfer the ten million dollars. We’re done.
“What did she say?”
“It was her lawyer. She wants to see you as soon as possible to discuss the agreement with you. I set up the meeting for the end of July. I’ll send you the details. She’ll be here at The Lodge,” he says. “I’m not your assistant. Why the fuck is she calling me?”
I rub my temples and then I explain to him who she is and why she might’ve contacted him.
“When did I become your personal lawyer?”
“You didn’t. I’m curious as to why she called you and not Everhart,” I answer. “He’s been the family lawyer for years. I…I’ll call him later. She can’t be here.”
“Does Sophia know about this?”
I nod and flinch. “Which is why I want to take care of that immediately. In the meantime, I guess I’ll go and visit her parents and check if the groceries were delivered as I requested.”
“Good luck with that,” he says and leaves before I do.
Henry
When I arrive at the Aragon’s new place, they aren’t there. Instead of texting Sophia or her brother to check where they are, I open my Twitter app. Knowing the town, they are already watching them closely. As I guessed, there are three new tweets.
The business guy arrived with three people who are now occupying one of the new homes.
I hate that they have us categorized like dolls, by profession.
Delia delivered groceries to the new house on Baker’s Lane. The family is pleasant, but we still don’t know who they are. The man who raised Henry?
Sophia is back in town. Rumor has it that she’s going to run Aldry’s Sweets and they are firing Doug.
Their nosiness doesn’t help me one bit, and when a new tweet pops I grunt.
There’s a rumor that the newbies are Henry’s in-laws.
Giving up with the gossip of this town, I decide to go back home, but before I take a step I notice Sophia walking across the street.
“Soph!” I yell, rushing toward her.
She stops and stares at me, arching a perfectly sculpted brow. “Are you
stalking me?”
“I wouldn’t dare,” I answer. “I came to check on your parents, but they aren’t here.”
“It’s dinner time in New York. Santiago decided to take them out to the diner,” she states. “By the way, your dinner invitation was revoked.”
“Ouch,” I complain.
“It’s nothing personal,” she informs me. “Mom should be heading to bed in about an hour. She’s had a long day.”
I don’t tell her that it’s four o’clock, instead, I ask, “Why are you here and not with your parents?”
“I’m taking advantage of their absence,” she answers, pointing toward her house. “It’ll be nice to see the place before they have an opinion about every room and the décor.”
“Knowing you, I doubt you’d listen to them.”
“Exactly. It’s best to show them the finished product because then there’s nothing they can do or say. I don’t have to pretend I mixed up colors or patterns, or blame the store for sending the wrong product,” she says, waving at me. “See you later.”
She continues her way down to the house and I follow right behind.
“I don’t need company, Mr. Aldridge.”
“We could inspect it together,” I say. “They’ve been working on it day and night. Hopefully, it’ll be done this week.”
“What did you change?” She looks at the outside and says, “I’m just one person. This is…too big.”
“It’s functional,” I answer.
Since I memorized the brochure, I list all the amenities of the house.
“Why would I need five bedrooms?” she asks as we walk through the modern chef’s kitchen.
I don’t understand what makes it a chef’s kitchen, but that’s how it was described. Maybe it’s the big, luxurious, state of the art appliances.
“Santiago mentioned the house where my parents are staying has three bedrooms,” she says. “I can just move in with them.”
“Well, first of all, we need an office,” I explain.
“I have an office plus five bedrooms,” she snaps.
“The office by the entrance is mine,” I inform her. “You need an office too.”
“Excuse me, this is my house,” she protests.
“Yes, but you’re going to share that small space with me.”
“You’re kidding?” she crosses her arms. “We need boundaries. If I let you work here, what’s next?”
“If you’re going to be spending most of the day in Aldry’s, how is this going to affect you?”
“You have an office at The Lodge,” she reminds me.
“I work next to Pierce who is yelling all day and Vance, Beacon or Mills drop by whenever they are bored,” I complain. “No one cares if I’m on a call or busy.”
“So, it is like you’re working with five men who are just like you,” she concludes folding her arms across her chest in annoyance. “Well, now you understand how hard it is to work with you around. More reason to tell you that you’re not using my office. The next thing I know, the six Aldridges are going to be parading around the house.”
“Listen, it’s just the office. I promise not to disrupt you.”
She laughs and I smile because her laugh means everything to me. “Like I’ll believe that. Why go through the hassle of purchasing a house? You could’ve rented.”
“Since I own the houses, I can do whatever I want like installing ramps, special railings, and whatever your mom needs,” I explain as we walk upstairs. “The extra rooms are for your guests. Your parents have three bedrooms, but Blaire said that at least one of them will be converted into a therapy room.”
When we enter the master suite, she stares at the hole between the room and the bedroom next door.
She frowns. “What are you doing?”
“Building you a closet. That makes it a four bedroom home. See not as big as you thought,” I explain. “We’re trying to set it up the way you have it in New York.”
“I could live in the suite at The Lodge.”
“You said you wanted a house,” I remind her.
She looks at me her lips parted. Her cheeks darken and then she crosses her arms asking, “What if I want a pool?”
“Check the backyard and tell me where you want it,” I answer, hoping that she is bluffing.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you nice sometimes and others you’re the biggest asshole?”
The reasons are endless, but I say, “Moving here is an inconvenience for you, I’m trying to make up for it.”
She gives me that disapproving look that makes me feel less than an inch tall and keeps walking around her bedroom. She takes pictures, measurements, and notes. Once we are out, she asks, “When you say I’m in charge of Aldry’s Sweets, what does that mean?”
“It’s just as we do with any special project. You do everything at your discretion and come to me just when you need help.”
“If I change the name?”
“As long as you think it’s the right course of action, I don’t have a problem with it.”
“What if it interferes with your father’s stipulations?”
“Pierce is in charge of the legal department. If you have any questions, he’s the man with the answers.”
“If I stop the construction of the new building.”
“It was your idea to create a separate unit that will hold the corporate offices and to expand the production area,” I answer almost as fast as she’s asking the questions. I’m not sure I’m liking this interrogation, but I humor her. I won’t take the bait because if we start fighting I’ll have a hard time not fucking her.
“What if I made a mistake?”
“You had a good reason. Why the change of heart?”
“Oh, I’m just throwing hypothetical scenarios. The new installations are the right move to make sure Aldry’s transcends into the new century.”
“Are you testing me, Ms. Aragon?”
“It’s like buying a new computer,” she says. “I want to learn how it works and the capabilities before I purchase it.”
“I’m sorry to tell you that this isn’t a trial. The place is already yours. Don’t test me; I hate that.”
“I hate you and yet—”
“Don’t say it,” I stop her. “You want to leave? I’ll pay you a million dollars right now. Your contract with Merkel is over.”
She shakes her head. “You said it well before, this is bigger than your father’s wishes or my mother’s illness. For me, it’s about the people who depend on the factory. Maybe a little about the Aldridge spawn and my best friends.”
Not about me. Never about me. It’s obviously my fault for being an asshole, but how do I change that?
Then, she gives me a stern glare. “Never, ever treat me like your high society dates. I don’t need you to pay me to disappear.”
“That was never my intention, Sophie,” I apologize.
“By the way, your fiancée’s lawyer called. I gave him Pierce’s number. Is she coming to live with you?”
Well, that explains why they called my brother and not Fitzhenry Everhart.
“She’s not my fiancée,” I clarify.
“That’s what the lawyer said, and well, we know that she’s your future wife, so it’s really semantics. Pre-fiancée, fiancée…who cares?” she says with disdain.
We enter inside of what’s going to be her office. The room isn’t as big as the master suite, but it is big enough to have a long wall to wall built-in bookcase, a small nook for her to read, and space for her desk.
The way her face illuminates is priceless. This is what I live for, what I’ve been living for since I met her. It’s not about the money I invested to get this room ready, but the fact that she has a library and an office in one.
“I didn’t pack my books,” she says staring at the bookcases.
“Get someone to ship them,” I instruct. “About—”
As I’m about to clarify more of wh
at’s happening with Martina, Easton steps into the room. “I heard you were here. I have a few questions about the other house. Do you have time?”
We both agree to go to the other place, and I make a note to discuss Martina with her later. I placed a call to Fitz earlier. Hopefully, he’ll have that dissolved in no time.
Henry
When we arrive at the Aragon’s place, I leave since Santiago and her father take over the conversation. I hope to catch up with Sophia later during dinner. I make my way to The Lodge to pick up my laptop before heading home. When I arrive at the Aldridge Mansion, the guys are in the kitchen area.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, but what I really want to know about is Sophia.
Beacon looks around and then back at me. “Everyone is here.”
I glare at him and say, “Blaire, Leyla, and Sophia are invisible now?”
“Aww, our Henry tried to crack a joke,” he responds.
“Quoting my woman, they are spending the evening away from the Aldridge boys,” Hayes proclaims. “You pissed them off.”
“Because it’s so hard to upset them,” I refute and look at the dining table that’s already set up. “Who’s turn is it to provide dinner today?”
“You,” Beacon answers. “I’m guessing you forgot to ask the chef to prepare the food?”
“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath hoping Arden doesn’t hear me. Thankfully, he’s in his highchair, busy, playing with his cloth book.
“No worries,” Pierce calls from the kitchen. “Mills and I thought that was going to happen. We decided to prepare something, but you are going to have to be in charge of our days. I already marked it on the chore calendar.”
“We should hire a maid and a cook,” I suggest, instead of arguing that they could’ve texted me to remind me. Now, I have to provide dinner for two days.
Fuckers. That was on purpose.
“We’re not allowed. It’s part of the stipulations,” Pierce reminds me. “As I said, there’s a lot more shit in that will that the fucking asshole didn’t read. The fine print is too long. At least we’re not required to marry or have children.”
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