by Scott, S. L.
I don’t give the thought a voice, ever. But I know what’s changed, and I know why.
Ally.
She changed my orderly world, throwing it upside down.
And now a life that should be satisfying has lost its shine. Because of her.
My office door opens on this warm summer night, and Ethan comes in. “Why are you still here?” He checks his watch. “I’m heading out. Singer’s going to be pissed. I promised to be home earlier.”
I chuckle, keeping it light. “You should get going then. I’m going to work on this proposal. I want to get it wrapped up by Thursday.”
“You will. In the morning. Come on. Let me give you a ride home.”
I think about the offer. Since I have the ability to work from home, I stand. “Yeah, I’ll look at it at home.”
Ethan has a magic touch—a belief that anything is possible—and he inspires others to believe the same. Although it’s after seven and getting dark outside, enough employees are still working to convince someone not in the know that it’s noon.
When we walk out of my office, Ethan says, “Go home, people. The work will be here tomorrow.”
That earns a few laughs, but not one person gets up. Their dedication is admirable. Or maybe like me, they don’t have anything or someone worth rushing home to.
Unlike Ethan.
I’m happy he’s found someone. After all the bad in his life, he deserves every ounce of good.
So do I.
I can’t seem to shake the feeling that something is out of alignment or that a piece of this new life is missing. I could fill in the blank if this were a test, but it’s not, so I try not to think about the woman making headlines as she settles into the life she hid from me.
“Want to come over?” Ethan asks, holding the phone screen toward me. There’s a text from Singer, his wife, that reads to ask me to come to dinner.
I check the time as if I have something else going on. I don’t. I don’t even remember if I have food at my place. “Sure.”
* * *
Singer sits next to me on the couch, curling her legs under her. I don’t have to look her way to know she’s staring at me. With my eyes on the football game, I ask, “What is it?”
Although my tone is steady, a little annoyance sneaks in. It’s not her I’m annoyed at. It’s me. Even a game can’t hold my attention tonight.
Singer is actually one of my favorite people to hang out with. Besides being a little quirky, she’s funny, and she’s a great match for my brother. With her, he’s the guy he used to be before he became a target of the media and the scum who wanted to either use him or steal from him.
We may be in a penthouse in the middle of New York City, but by how casual Ethan and Singer are, you’d never know it.
When she doesn’t say anything, I roll my neck to the side. “What, Singer?”
She untucks her legs, and her heels push against my thigh. “Why are you so down all the time? Is it the princess?”
Princess. “Why are you crying, princess?”
So much more makes sense these days that made none back then. “Sure. It’s woman troubles,” I reply sarcastically, sliding down and resting my head on the cushion behind me.
“I see through you just like I see through your brother.” She rests her head to the side, continuing to stare at me. “You could go see her. Maybe if she sees you—”
“You read too many romances. This story doesn’t have a happy ending.”
“That’s disappointing.”
I can’t help but chuckle. Tapping her foot twice, I say, “Sorry about that. I know you’d love to see me living the princely life, but that’s not the life for me.”
Ethan cuts through the living room from the hall to the kitchen. “Princely life?”
“Your wife is trying to get me to go after the girl.” I laugh again at the thought. There are so many things in Ally’s and my way that I wouldn’t even know where to begin to get to her. And if there were any possible ways of us being together, wouldn’t she have sought them out?
Sitting on the arm of the couch behind her, he says, “I’m sure you’ve thought about it.”
“I have, but she’s not just any woman. She’s a princess and next in line to rule an entire country.”
Ethan adds, “A bit dramatic.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Me? Maybe you don’t understand. She will literally inherit a country. To rule.”
Shaking his head, he laughs. “See? Dramatic.”
I introduce him to my middle finger and turn back to Singer. “I always liked you better than him anyway,” I tease. “How do I get her out of my head?”
“You don’t,” she says. Her eyes round like coffee cup saucers. She sits up and clasps her hands in front of her. “You don’t because she’s in your heart. Am I right? Is she in your heart, Hut?”
Rolling my eyes, I sit up. “Yes, she’s in my heart. Happy?”
“No. Not until you are.”
“Don’t worry about me. You have enough to worry about right there.” I signal toward Ethan.
He kisses her head, and then says, “He’s right. I’m happy to have all your attention on me.”
“You already get all my time.” Pretending to pout, she crosses her arms over her chest, looking back at me. “I want to meet a princess. Oooh, and go to a ball. Do you think they have balls in Brudenbourg?”
“I have no idea what they do there.”
“Maybe we should look it up.” She moves to get up, but I grab her ankle before she can escape. As she hops on one foot, she says, “Please let me look it up.”
“The country or Ally?”
Standing steady on her right foot, her hands go to her hips. “Hutton, you can’t give up. Your heart is not ready to.”
I release her, hoping she doesn’t start stalking Ally online, and lie back. “What about the rest of me?”
“You’re going to be okay. I promise. Things will work out exactly how they’re supposed to.”
“Famous last words.”
* * *
Sitting in a private room of an Italian restaurant, I’m bouncing my knee under the table as I finish off the bourbon, no ice to clink around the glass when I set it down.
“When are we going to eat, Huddy?”
Huddy . . . grrrr. Hearing the d’s instead of t’s raises my blood pressure. Add the y and I need another stiff drink. I shift my gaze to my left. The wrapping is so pretty, but the present is empty when it comes to Starla. It’s the second time I’ve taken her out, but by how she’s acting, you’d think we were a thing. We’re not.
It may be rude, but I’m ready to go, and we haven’t even ordered. “When is Bennett getting here?”
Ethan shakes his head. “He said in ten like thirty minutes ago.”
Our youngest brother joined the company two months ago after moving from California. Since I started a new division off the parent company, Everest Enterprises has diversified into media. Bennett is leading the sales team to become a global provider of media entertainment.
He’s got the Everest charismatic genes to seal the deal, and after spending time in Hollywood, he’s using his knowledge and connections to our advantage. But the fucker is always late.
The door opens. I’m expecting the waiter, ready for a fresh drink, but my brother finally shows. “Thanks for gracing us with your presence, Benjamin.” It’s not his name, but Ethan and I use that name when we want to fuck with him.
A file hits the middle of the table, sending a breadbasket to topple over. “Read it and weep, fuckers.”
When Ethan takes the folder, Starla points at the bread that’s rolled onto the table. “Thank God he’s here. I almost resorted to eating the carbs.”
“You could. It would be okay.”
“One piece of bread and I wouldn’t fit in this dress. Don’t you like me in this dress?”
I hate when grown women talk in a baby voice. I reach for my drink because I hadn’t really noticed the dr
ess if I’m honest. But then I see it’s still empty. I’m definitely not good company for her. Rhett Matthews, the CFO, set me up with her. I never asked how he knew her, but I guess she had been asking him about me, and on a drunken night in Brooklyn, I asked her out.
The problem is, I need to be drunk to tolerate her company, and I only have myself to blame for the second date. Sure, she was texting me all the time, but I could have said no, like I did to having sex with her. Ever since . . . I’m careful to dance around the princess’s name, the bar has been raised way higher than Starla can reach in her six-inch platforms.
We can’t be more opposite. “It’s a nice dress.”
“See?” she preens proudly. “That’s why I don’t eat carbs.”
Surprised by this tidbit, I ask, “What are you going to eat at an Italian restaurant?”
“Salad.”
Ethan stands. “You did good, Bennett. This exclusive could put us on the map.” His eyes dart to me, but then he hands the file back to Bennett. “You need to talk to him about this. It’s his division.”
Bennett has the same percentage of shares in the company as I do, but he gets the perks of not having to be the boss. I need to learn to negotiate better. All those times I argued with my dad like we were in court didn’t pay off. I saw dollar signs and signed on the line.
My brother sits in the empty seat across from Starla. “Hey, how are you?”
Acting coy, which is something she’s never been with me, she replies, “Great. How are you?”
I get it—nice packaging—but I want his attention on the news, not my date. I snap my fingers to get his attention. “What exclusive?”
Bennett replies, “We made the cut.”
“For?”
“Exclusive and full coverage of the crowning.”
It’s like pulling teeth. “What crowning?”
With his eyes on Starla, he replies, “The Brudenbourg ceremony.”
My vision sharpens, and I tilt my head to the side. Did I just hear that right? “What?”
Bennett finally turns to me. “When the princess becomes queen. The coronation.”
None of this makes sense; a lot like it didn’t the last time I was dealing with something involving Ally. Damn it. Her name slips off my tongue as if it’s been lying in wait to fuck with me again. I hate the way my heart beats against my ribcage, and my throat feels thick when I think of her. It’s fucked up that my palms sweat and my body heats thinking about her.
Why the fuck am I even bothering to pretend with Starla? This is not who I am. I take the file and stand to leave. “When is the coronation?”
“Not sure. There’s no date set yet. The public relations firm who represents the family—”
“The family?”
“The royal family. They’ve requested the bids be submitted in two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” I bark before I even know what I’m upset about. I know. I just refuse to acknowledge it in a room full of people.
Bennett adds, “In person.” He shifts when the waiter comes in to top off the glasses and fill his wine glass. He takes a drink while Ethan smirks.
Fuckers.
Holding the file, I push through the door and leave.
7
Hutton
This file feels like the key I’ve been searching for, the key I need to unlock time and turn back the clock. One more night. Ally gave me one final night, but it will never be enough.
Other women don’t come close to the life I’m living in my memories with her.
Shit. I almost forgot about Starla in the dining room . . . What the fuck am I thinking bringing her here? She practically mauled me the last time we went out, using that little girl voice that’s a total turn off to try to turn me on.
After escaping by twisting and wriggling out of her hold, I made a fast exit. I need to get laid, but I’m not so desperate to overwrite Ally’s and my last night together.
“Hut?”
I turn back to the sound of that voice. Singer. I know she’s going to try to talk sense into a situation that makes none. I’m already shaking my head, not wanting to negotiate. “Singer, I just want to go home.”
“I know you do,” she says, putting herself between me and the door. “Talk to me.”
“About the sky. It’s blue.” Like Ally’s eyes. “My favorite coffee?” Cappuccino, like her hair and something I started drinking since she left. “Taco stands?” That’s the last place I saw her, touched her, though not the way I wanted. “Work? I’ve been buried.” I bury myself in the day for hours, so I’m too exhausted to think about Ally at night when I’m lying in bed alone.
She touches my shoulder. “You’re one of the best men I know. I see so much of your brother in you. Admirable characteristics like your work ethic and drive, the kindness you’ve always shown not just me, but everyone you meet, and you have that whole bad boy thing going on like Ethan.” She shrugs. “Bad boys sure are hard to resist, but you know that already.”
“Ha. Ethan is more like a Boy Scout.”
“To you, but he has a side to him with a sharp edge. I’d hate to cross it, but I sure do appreciate it.”
“Did you come to talk to me about my brother?”
“No. Ally.”
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
“That record’s getting old. How about we try to change your tune?”
Moving off to the side behind the hostess stand, I say, “I appreciate everything you’re saying and doing, Singer, but you can’t fix this just because you want me happy. Life doesn’t always work out the way we want; it works out how it’s supposed to.”
“It makes me sad that you’re giving up.”
“Giving up? I gave her everything I had to give. She doesn’t want me, or can’t be with me, and I finally recognize it. She’s a fucking princess.” My head is still blown over that. “She has responsibilities and obligations to her country. Maybe that’s why she’s not calling me or contacting me in any way. So what do you want me to do?”
“Contact her.”
“You have a heart of gold, Singer, but I tried to no avail. The phone has been disconnected. She’s not returning my calls or texts. I can’t force her to because I want her to.”
Her excitement evaporates, and she sighs. “I know. I just thought that maybe . . . I saw a difference in you. This girl affected you.”
“She did, but she’s also gone.” Tapping the folder against my palm, I add, “I’ll look at this opportunity with objectivity, so don’t worry about the company, or this deal.” I know what she’s about to say, so I beat her to the punch. “Or me.”
She smiles and then shoves my shoulder. “You know me well.”
“I do.”
Taking a step back, she says, “Stay and have dinner.”
“I won’t be good company.”
“Don’t stay for you, stay for us. Save us, Hut. Starla asked where we’re spending Christmas. You can’t just leave her here.”
Chuckling, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, I’ll save you, but you better save me too.”
“Deal.”
When we enter the room, Starla has a piece of lettuce on her fork poised to devour. Her hand lowers, and she says, “You’re back?” as if I’m not welcome.
My gaze shifts to Bennett who shakes his head enough for me to notice, but not her. I say, “Yes, I just needed fresh air.” I set the file down as I sit back in my chair. “Have we ordered?”
* * *
I drop the file on Ethan’s desk the minute he sits behind it Friday morning. “This says we have to submit our bid in person.”
“I know. I read the details last night. It’s a pitch.”
Resting the tips of my fingers on his desk, I lower myself to his level. “In. Person. Ethan.”
His eyes narrow on mine. “I’m. Aware. Hutton.”
Standing, I walk to the windows that span the wall and cross my arms over my chest. My voice may be calmer, but it’s st
ill firm when I say, “We need to withdraw our application.”
“We’re bidding.”
“No.” I turn back. “We’re not. Not only is this crossing lines that are well beyond a personal conflict, but—”
“But that’s all it’s about when it comes to your argument.” He comes around his desk and stands toe to toe with me. “This will be one of the biggest events of the year, and we have a young media company. This could bring the media division into the limelight and make us a fortune in licensee rights. As a financial analyst, you know I’m right.”
If I take my personal feelings out of the situation, I can admit he’s right. But I’m too stubborn for that. “We’ll have more opportunities for big events. That studio we’re building in Brooklyn will pay for itself.”
The phone on his desk buzzes, but he ignores it. He does, however, move back around and sits again. “This is a global event, Hutton. I get that we’re wading through tricky waters, but you can’t let personal feelings get in the way of business.”
“You did.” Shit. I shouldn’t have said that and regret it the moment it leaves my mouth. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t drag what happened to me into this.” His hand goes up. “I lost my company, but I rebuilt my empire. This is about you avoiding anything to do with Ally. I get it. I spent time away from Singer and then wondered what the fuck I was doing. But you know what I did?”
“Took your private jet to win the girl back?”
That makes him laugh. “Yes, and you can use it too.”
“I don’t need it since I’m not going to Brudenbourg. Bennett will take the jet. He’s the lead and will pitch the bid.”
“Actually, I want to talk to you about that . . .”
* * *
I hate my brothers so fucking much. “How did I get talked into this?” I grumble.
“Lighten up, man. You’re making me anxious from all the anxiety rolling off you.”
Whipping my gaze away from the window and trying to set Bennett on fire with my glare, I ask, “Tell me why I have to go again?”