by Emily Bishop
“That’s going to stop,” I say decisively. “And you know I’m going to drop a lot of mills on you, bro. As soon as the inheritance comes through.”
“You’d better make sure you get it,” he says. “For your sake. You remember it’s all going to me if you can’t get your act together? Well, let me tell you something, I won’t be buying you Bentleys and yachts out of that money. It’s getting a little boring, your whole helpless-guy-who-can’t-make-money act. I work pretty hard on all this FX trading, you know.”
“You’re right,” I say. Before, I would have exploded and probably cursed him out. “I haven’t done a day’s proper work in my life. But that’s all about to change. Trust me.”
“Hmm.” He doesn’t sound convinced.
“I know you don’t believe me. But I’m going to prove it. My life isn’t going to be the same anymore, bro. It can’t be. It was too empty. Devoid of meaning.”
“I don’t know anything about that ‘meaning’ crap,” Eddie says. “But it was certainly devoid of hard work or any kind of responsibility.”
His tone is a slap in the face. I never knew he thought any of this about me. “But we had a good time, didn’t we?”
I hear a smile creep into his voice. “Of course, we did. Gray and Eddie, the masters of a good time. A drunk time. A get-all-the-girls time. But I have another life that you don’t. I have my work. I can provide for myself.”
“You’re right.” I feel something constrict in my throat. “I have a plan for the money. I’m going to change my life.”
“Yeah, but remember when you said that a few years ago? After you trashed the hotel suite at Claridges? You swore blind to your father you were going to change your life. And nothing happened.”
“I didn’t mean it then,” Gray said. “I meant it the tiniest bit. But I said it mostly just to shut Father up. I always knew I would go back to causing mayhem.”
His voice tightens. “So, why should anyone believe you this time?”
I pause. “I guess I can only prove it to you.”
“If you buy something crazy with this money, I swear I’m going to wring your neck.”
“I won’t, trust me. This will be the best thing I’ve ever spent money on. Something I’ve kind of wanted to do for a long time but didn’t know how.”
“Oh god, you’re going to go skydiving, aren’t you?”
“No!” He’s starting to get on my nerves now. But I only have my past self to blame. “I’m doing something for Isabella.”
“Taking her skydiving and proposing to her mid-air?” Eddie chuckles, almost sounding like his normal self.
“Nothing to do with skydiving!” I reply with a laugh.
“So, what is it?”
For some reason, I want to keep it a secret. I open my mouth to tell him then shut it again. “I’ll send you pics after the fact.”
He laughs smuttily. It sends the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.
“Not those kind of pictures,” I say.
“All right, whatever you say,” he says, mischief in his voice. “But don’t forget your boy. And once your fake engagement crap is over, I’ll be making a move on her. Is she a good fuck?”
It’s like my blood’s running cold. “You won’t be making any move on her.”
“Oh, shit!” he says, with a disbelieving laugh. “You’re actually catching feelings now. The notorious Ditch-Them Duke has fallen in the trap every man tries to avoid. Didn’t you learn from the whole Lilly fiasco?”
This is so weird. Normally when I speak to Eddie, I feel cheeky and strong and like we can conquer the world together. Now I feel drained. I was full of energy at the beginning of the call. Full of excitement. Now I’m like a deflated balloon.
“So, will you transfer the money?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s not like it’s all that much,” he says casually. I think he’s trying to make me feel small.
“Cool, bro,” I say. “Thanks for that.”
I hang up, feeling confused. But I try to focus on the future. All I need is the money. The next few days are going to be the best of my life, and I’m going to focus all my attention on something I’ve never really thought of before—doing something really nice for someone else.
Chapter 28
Isabella
DAY 25
I can’t lie. I thought each day without Gray would get easier and easier. I had to tell Natalie in the end. Every day pressure was building and building and building, until it was all going to burst out. I had a little cry in the privacy of our office. Natalie said it would be better to get it all out—I’d feel better about moving on once I’d mourned.
But I didn’t feel better. I felt worse. And every day since then has been more and more difficult. This morning, I didn’t even feel like dragging myself out of bed. I didn’t want to face my employees and customers in the hospital. They’re starting to get restless now, and the unhappier they get, the more they feel litigious. I wanted to throw my quilt over my head and forget the world exists. I wanted to regress to childhood and have a sick day, doing nothing except watching cartoons all day.
But that’s not the real world. I have responsibilities. I have to be a strong, confident, capable, independent woman, even when I don’t feel like it. That’s life. So, I pulled myself out of bed and washed and dressed.
Now I’m at the entrance to the hospital. Anxiety flutters about in my stomach like some huge malevolent moths have found their way into my belly and want to torture me.
I put on my confident face and walk in. No one would have any idea how nervous I am. How full of dread and sadness I am. I’ve become an expert at hiding it all these years. Most of the time I’m fine, if a little unfulfilled. I push my feelings to the side. Sometimes they overwhelm me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. But no one knows about it. After a quick cry in the bathroom, I always return with freshly-made-up eyes and a smile plastered on. You have to soldier through life. My father always had a smile for me, even when his business was sinking. I had no idea. He didn’t want to burden me with his problems, and I don’t want to burden anyone with mine, either. Tears prick my eyes when I think of him. I miss him so much.
As I ride the elevator up, I think about what he’d tell me about Gray. At first, he has this harsh, stern voice, telling me that Gray is no good and will never be any good. He’s not good enough for his precious daughter. But my heart sinks. I know I’m making it all up. I’m just telling myself that to make it seem easier.
In reality, I know what he would say. I can feel my father’s presence so strongly in that elevator, it almost feels like he’s standing right next to me. I can practically see his soft gray hair, his crumpled linen suit. His eyes are blue like mine. But where mine are almost always intense, with the Ice Queen look Gray loves to berate me about, my dad’s were soft, with little gold flecks in them. Like cornflower fields bathed in the golden light of sunset.
I can almost hear what he’d say. He’s a good man at heart. Give him a chance. No one’s perfect, sweetheart. When I hear the “sweetheart,” or rather feel it, my heart does a sad implosion. I miss him so much. You deserve to find true love.
But he’s not my ideal man.
You and I both know that doesn’t matter. I feel my father so strongly. I hear his gentle voice so clearly. He’s what life has brought to you. And he loves you. Truly loves you.
No, he doesn’t.
My dad doesn’t even reply to that. Just gives me this knowing look that makes me burst into tears. The elevator door opens, and I’m sobbing. I try to pull myself together as I step out, but it’s too late. Sandra’s walking down the corridor. She’s my employee. I have to keep it together.
She stops and frowns at me, concerned. “Isabella, is everything all right?”
I can’t help it. The tears pour out of me again with a little sob.
“Oh, honey.” Sandra pulls me into a hug and even strokes my hair. “Honey, honey. None of this was your fault. I know yo
u’ve been so worried about this, but it was really was just an unfortunate accident. Everyone in the company knows how meticulous you are. You wouldn’t have left anything to chance. There’s no way you’d be negligent. Please, forgive yourself. We’ve all forgiven you.” That makes me cry even harder. I’m a mess, blubbering into her shoulder. She strokes my hair. “There, there,” she says, just like a caring mother. “Try not to be so hard on yourself.”
I pull out of the hug and wipe my eyes. “I’m always hard on myself.”
“I know, honey. I know. I’m not exactly Mother Theresa to myself. I know what kind of person you are, because I’m the same. We’re so busy taking care of everyone and everything, we forget to take care of ourselves and be gentle with ourselves.”
I nod tearfully. I feel like a little girl.
She gives me a lovely smile and wipes a stray tear away with her thumb. “It must have taken you so long to select all the gifts for us. That was sweet of you. I want to do the same for you when you’re better. You deserve to have someone do something nice for you.”
“Gifts?” I’m thoroughly confused.
Sandra sighs. “Don’t tell me you’re so modest and self-deprecating that you’re going to pretend they were delivered by Santa. Or the Easter Bunny.”
Huh? “Seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sandra frowns with confusion. “Then where did they come from?”
“What? I’m so confused.”
“Go to the burn unit. You’ll see. I’m headed to the bathroom.” She gives me a little pat on the arm. “Hold on, honey. Things will get easier.”
“Thank you, Sandra, I really hope so.” I give her a quick little hug then find a smile. “I’m going to see what these gifts are all about.”
I hurry along the corridor into the burn unit and gasp in delight as I open the door. The whole place is beautiful. Every table is covered with goodies. Huge flower arrangements blossom from every corner of the room. Boxes of chocolates. Plush toys. Box sets of books. Box sets of DVDs. Huge gift baskets of wine and what looks like bars of chocolate and jars, probably of expensive condiments. The place is bright with color. It looks like Christmas morning. The only thing missing is a Christmas tree. Happy low-level chatter fills the place, and someone has an old movie on their TV. It’s all too cozy for words.
“What on earth?” I whisper.
“Hey, Isabella!” Melody calls out. She’s fully made up, complete with contouring and those thick eyebrows that all the young girls seem to covet right now. “Thank you so much for all of this!”
“But I…” This is just too weird.
Then Gray steps out from behind one of the curtains. His intense dark eyes lock onto mine, alive with joy. He smiles, a wide, genuine, beautiful smile. I can’t help but smile back, and he comes over to me.
“Did you work this magic?” I ask.
“You’re the magic one.” I can tell he wants to hug me but holds back.
“Thank you,” I whisper. I look around the unit and feel so overwhelmed. Everyone looks to be enjoying themselves. Even Melody’s mother, who is reading a book and eating chocolates from an expensive box beside her. “I don’t know how to say thank you enough.”
He grins and puts his arms around my waist. “May I?”
I nod.
“You could kiss me,” he whispers.
“In front of all these people?” I whisper back.
He grins cheekily. “They all love me.”
I give him a playful slap. “Oh, because everyone loves the charmer Grayson Fairfax.”
“Not the charmer,” he says. “Not the charmer, at all. This is me. Me, me, me, all me. No manipulation. No agenda.”
I feel so relaxed with him it surprises me. “No agenda? No agenda at all?” I tease.
“All right.” He grins sheepishly. “A little bit of an agenda. Trying to get you back. Trying to show you how much I love you, truly. You make me a better person. I’m sure you were fine in the days we have been apart, but it was killing me. Life feels so empty without you.”
Tears fill my eyes. Tears of joy. “I wasn’t fine. Not at all.” I give him a gentle punch on the arm. “Why did you do this to me?”
“Do what to you?”
I whisper. “Make me love you.”
“You dirty hypocrite,” he says with a grin.
“What?”
“You can’t complain. You’ve done the same to me.”
Then he leans in and kisses me. I forget the hospital and everyone in it. I kiss him back. It’s a soft kiss, our lips teasing each other with gentle touches.
“Oooh!” Sandra says as she comes back in. “Look at you lovebirds!”
We pull away, and I giggle self-consciously. Boy, today has been a real rollercoaster.
Gray says, “I count myself the luckiest man in the world.”
Sandra nods. “And so you should. She’s a gem.”
“No disrespect, madam, but she’s not just a gem. She’s a diamond.”
I feel like crying again.
“Oh, I wish I had a boyfriend like yours,” Melody says dreamily. I had no idea she was even paying attention.
I expect her mother to make a disapproving comment, but she’s so absorbed in her book she doesn’t even look up.
I look at them all for a moment: Melody, her mother, Sandra, my other customers, my other employees. And I let the daydream I’ve been thinking about all these days pour out of my mouth. “Guys?” Everyone looks up at me. I feel this warm glow inside. “I expect you’re wondering what’s going to happen with the store now. We’re going to move you all to another store nearby, and we’ll provide transport to get there if needed. Then I’m going to rebuild the store bigger and better, even more luxurious. All of you will receive compensation through our insurance. And I want to offer all of our customers here $5,000 to spend in any of our stores, on top of the compensation from the insurance company.”
“Wow,” Melody’s mother says.
“I told you that you were wrong about her,” Melody says. “She’s the best.”
Gray smiles and holds my hand tightly. “That she is.”
Chapter 29
Grayson
DAY 30
Today’s the day. And I’ve never felt more alive, even though I’m in the mansion that always feels like it’s sucking the life out of me. I still don’t like it, with the creepy portraits staring out at me, and the dark tapestries full of dust. But it doesn’t have a hold on me like it used to.
I wake next to Isabella. Sun streams through the open window and illuminates her face in fresh morning light. Now when I look at her and feel such a deep sense of happiness washing over me, it doesn’t scare me anymore. It doesn’t feel like she has some mystic and sinister power over me, pulling parts out of me I never knew existed. That’s how it used to be. Now it’s glorious. Like victory every time I look into her eyes.
She opens hers, blinking sleepily. A sleepy, happy smile crosses her face as she realizes where she is, realizes I’m next to her. This is bliss. My mother was always reciting poetry about the depths of love and soaring to blissful heights and being with each other even beyond death. She loved all the classics. Sometimes as a little boy I used to recite them, too. But I never understood them. It all sounded alien, packed with emotions only weak or strange people would have. But now I’m sinking. Flying. Drowning. Soaring. On wings I never knew existed for anyone. Much less for me.
“Morning, Gray,” she says. Her voice sounds like music.
I stroke her dark curls away from her face. “Morning, Isabella.”
She sits up and hugs into me, curling up small. I love the feel of her satin nightgown against my skin. “Do you really think Mr. Fink will let this all go through?”
“Yes,” I reply strongly. “He’d be a fool if he didn’t.”
She looks up at me, her blue eyes like a dream. “Well, then, we just have to hope he’s not a fool.”
“Don’t worry,” I
tell her. “I’ll make sure you get the money you need. I can’t wait to see your business back on its feet. We’re going to bring it all to a new glory. Then start our angel investing. We’ll be successful. Successful and happy. And nothing can stand in our way.”
She giggles. “Fighting talk. I love it.” She leans up and kisses me. “I’d better shower and go put on my battle clothes.”
“No battles here. Just victory.” I give her one last kiss and we both get up.
I’ll wear my powder blue linen suit. It’s in an African pattern with white and blue detailing. It’s certainly eye-catching. I’d have never thought of wearing that in front of old Fink before, but I’m not trying to please him. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want this all to be real. With a crisp white shirt and gray leather shoes, that suit will feel like me. And that’s all I want to be right now. Not an arrogant, manipulative bullshitter. Not a smooth-talking ladies’ man. Not a bad boy. Just me. Me, just as I am.
I dress quickly and decide to have a proper breakfast, something I’ve only started doing recently. Before, it was just a coffee or an energy drink. I go down to the kitchen and fix it for myself. Croissant with butter. Granola with milk. Orange juice. I feel fresh. I feel light. I fix some for Isabella for when she comes down.
Eddie stalks in as I’m enjoying a moment of pure, simple happiness. “I was looking for you,” he says harshly.
“My brother,” I say.
“Cousin.”
“Sit.” I pull out the stool next to mine at the breakfast bar.
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Nah, I’m all right.”
He doesn’t look all right. “What’s up, bro?”
“I’m not happy with the ten percent you offered me. I want forty.”
“I can’t.” I want all the money I can get, not for yachts and big cars and gambling anymore, but to help struggling businesses. “I’m starting a business doing angel investing for various—”
“I couldn’t care less. I want my cut. You should count yourself lucky I didn’t sabotage your whole little game with Isabella. Remember, if you fuck up, all the money comes to me.”