by Staci Hart
I thought for a second, eyeing her. “Is this some kind of a trick to get me to come back to work for Longbourne?”
“I wish it were.”
A pause. “I don’t know. If they wanted my help, they’d ask for it.”
Now it was her turn to give me a look. “Everyone knows you don’t want to work for the family. They know you’re busy and won’t bother you.”
A year ago, I would have known the second anything happened. But now that my brothers had paired off and Jett and I had moved, it was like somebody had cut the phone lines. I tried not to let that hurt my feelings. I tried really, really hard.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll check it out.”
Her face melted in relief like a pat of butter. “Thank you. And if you fix it and love it, you could just stay, you know.”
“Mom,” I warned.
She held up her hands. “I’m just saying.”
And I couldn’t help but laugh. “Come here.” I pulled her in for a hug. “I’m sorry,” I said into her hair, the familiar honeysuckle scent easing something in my chest.
“So am I,” she whispered.
And there was no denying that truth, no matter how badly it hurt.
LIAM
No amount of hot water could wash the day off of me.
Trust me, I tried.
I’d suffered through the rest of the workday preoccupied with Laney, Catherine, Georgie. When Catherine had left my office, I went in search of Laney, but she was long gone. But I found Georgie, brought her to my office. Told her what Catherine had said, watched her hopes dissolve into tears. She promised me she was fine before she left, but neither of us believed her. And there was nothing I could do to stop her from going to Wasted Words after work to talk to Jett. I didn’t know what she would tell him. Would she abandon her life for a life with him or would she say goodbye? I didn’t know, and she didn’t tell me.
She still wasn’t home.
Everyone around me was in misery, and it was my fault. Somewhere along the line, I had put the people I cared about in a position where no one could have what they wanted, and now there was no going back. Not without forsaking the people and careers Georgie and I had built our lives around.
The worst part of all was a level of certainty that I could somehow make things worse, if I wasn’t careful. It was about as easy as cartwheeling through a minefield—the margin of error was massive. And I was apparently so clueless, I didn’t even know what a mine looked like.
I stayed in the shower until the steam receded and the water ran cool, replaying the day, considering the circumstances. Laney was rightfully angry—even though her fury over my altercation with Jett was the arrow she’d nocked, the pull of her bowstring was powered by her hurt over what I’d said to her last. But we were alike in that—misplaced anger was our communication method of choice. It was why I’d snapped on Laney and the reason for my vicious reaction to Jett and my sister. All reasons were valid, but rather than practice restraint, we’d left our feelings untethered to do their damage like a pack of vengeful, wild dogs.
And mine had the sharpest teeth of all.
I dried off and stepped out of the shower, knotting the towel around my waist. The fog on the mirror had already begun to retreat, leaving me with a view of my reflection, framed by condensation. Sometimes I could see the man I’d been before my parents died, young and facing a life of hope and possibility. I remembered the softness of my face, the smoothness of skin unmarred by worry lines, my thin frame. I’d never been what anyone would call cheerful, but I’d been lighter. Now there was nothing light about me. I was a shadow, a shade. A man older than his years, no longer thin, but with corded muscle cultivated from a desire to master my body when I couldn’t master my heart. Thick arms and broad chest, rolling muscles that gave me outward strength to offset my weaknesses. Physical strength I could use to save, to protect, just as I did with my mental fortitude. The man I’d become was worn and stubborn, fixated on a single mission.
Take care of my family.
It was easy, that directive. Following it simplified my life, my choices. Every decision passed through that gate like a cattle run into one of two chutes, a yes or no to the question that had come to define me. Does this help me take care of my family or hinder it?
It was that easy, that effective. But if I’d learned one thing over the last weeks, it was that nothing was so straightforward as to answer with a yes or no, not when it came to the inner workings of hearts. It wasn’t black or white, but a thousand shades of gray, almost indiscernible from each other. Really, it all boiled down to perspective. And Laney and I stood on opposite sides of a chasm, looking at contradictory horizons.
The Bennets had managed to upend my family’s life without lifting a finger and by no fault of their own. They existed and shared space with Georgie, Catherine. Me. And their presence alone was all it took to turn us inside out. To complicate things I’d thought were simple—or at least simpler than they were now. Because now Georgie had to live with her longing. My circumstance hadn’t changed much in that regard—all I could ever do with Laney was long for her, even in the moment she mistook and insulted me. Maybe even more in those moments. But I was too cynical and clumsy for anything more than longing, even if having her was a possibility. Which it wasn’t. Catherine had made that perfectly clear.
I hadn’t realized until then that somewhere in the depths of my heart, beneath layers of denial and expectation, I’d held a sliver of hope that maybe there was a way for Laney and me.
I pulled on sleep pants and an old Columbia T-shirt, scrubbing my hair with my towel before hanging it to dry. Still, I didn’t hear Georgie. Frowning, I picked up my phone, hoping for a message but found none. The next few minutes were spent rummaging for a meal and heating it up in the microwave, thinking about worst-case scenarios. Like Georgie running away with Jett. Or trying to sneak around still, knowing the consequences. Or worse—that she wouldn’t break it off with him, defying Catherine and putting me in the middle of it all, which I supposed was where I should be.
But before I could fully run away with that, the bolt on the door turned, and in she came.
She looked as tired as I felt, her shoulders sloped and her expression heavy. Eyes red and swollen from tears, makeup worn. Even her hair was flat and dull, without her shine and bounce. It was like someone had put out the lights in her, leaving a husk of shadows.
“Hey,” I said, abandoning my meal on the counter to meet her.
Georgie sighed, refusing to meet my eyes. “It’s done. It’s over.”
A pause as I considered what to say. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head and took off her bag.
Another pause. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
“Me too.”
I stepped closer, opening my arms to gather her up, but she edged away. A hot slice of pain cut my heart.
“I’m going to shower and get in bed for the night,” she said, backing toward the stairs with a sad smile on her face.
“George, I …”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I just … I just want to be alone. We’re okay. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Night,” she said, turning to go.
I watched her until she was out of sight, then stood, staring at the stairwell for a long moment.
Would it always be this hard? Would she resent me for not fighting Catherine for her, for not forging a way for her to have what she wanted despite the consequences? Would she truly forgive me, or would this drive a wedge between us? Or were we all destined to lose what we wanted to the whims of fate and family?
I didn’t know. But I hoped our misery was temporary. That although it seemed there was no way out of the darkness, we’d feel our way through it and into the light.
Which left me wondering if there had been a time since my parents died that I’d been happy, truly happy.
And I realized it’d been so long, I couldn’t
remember how it felt.
23
Blast From the Past
LANEY
At noon on a Thursday, Longbourne’s corporate offices were unnaturally empty.
The galley of abandoned desks sat in silence, and it seemed the employees left had moved into the smaller offices around the open center of the space. The eerie quiet was broken by the occasional ringing phone, which was answered by an unseen hand, proving there was actually life on what felt like Mars.
I headed to the back of the floor where Marcus and Maisie’s office was, knocking on the door. When my brother answered to come in, I did.
My frown was mighty.
Maisie was on the phone, her eyes widening when she saw me, then flicking to Marcus. He stood, smoothing his tie.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” he asked without any inflection to indicate his thoughts.
“What are you doing? Where is everybody?”
Maisie hung up the phone and sighed before standing. “All over the place. We’ve been a victim of some aggressive headhunting. And it happened so fast—not only have we barely had time to replace anyone, but Marcus and I can’t get through twenty employees’ worth of work and ours too.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” I sank into one of the chairs.
Maisie stepped into Marcus’s side, her hand resting protectively on her belly and her eyebrows drawn.
“We didn’t want to worry you,” Marcus answered.
“I hate to break it to you, but that is not something you can just fix without having to tell us. I take it everyone knows but me and Jett?”
Marcus at least looked a little guilty. “You’re busy—”
“So are you. Don’t look so worried. I’m not mad.”
“You look mad,” he noted.
I gave him a look. “How about you don’t push it?”
“We’ve been doing interviews and hired a few people, but they were snagged from under us before they even started. I don’t know what’s going on, but if we can’t get bodies in those chairs, we’re going to be in big trouble.”
I nodded, gathering up my willpower. “I’ll take over marketing, social, ads. Jett can handle accounting. What about Luke and Kash?”
Marcus shook his head. “Luke’s too busy at the shop, and we can’t spare Kash in the greenhouse.”
“Then it’s just us.” I stood and started to pace. “I’ll work on interviews too, so you two can get back to the big stuff.”
“Well, that’s another problem,” Maisie started. “We’re losing events too, and some of our supply has been interrupted.”
“What?”
She nodded. “This is deliberate. It’s the only explanation.”
“We suspect it’s Evelyn,” Marcus said. Maisie leaned into him for support at the mention of her mother. “We haven’t found any proof yet, but I’m looking.”
But I had stopped walking, a realization reverberating like a gong in my head. “No, not Evelyn. Catherine de Bourgh.”
Marcus’s face pinched. “Do you think she wants to reacquire us for Evelyn?”
“No,” I said. “She wants to punish us for what happened with Evelyn. Evelyn lost everything, including her family and her freedom, and just yesterday, Catherine made sure I knew she believed it was our fault. Not just me or you or Mom—all of us. Catherine is just as bitter and petty as Evelyn, and if I had to peg this on one person in the world, it would be her.”
Now it was Maisie’s turn to sit. She sank into a chair, hand still on her belly. “What are we going to do?” she breathed.
“What we’re not going to do is give up,” I said. “We just have to work harder. Let’s make sure all the new hires know that if they’re approached with a better offer to tell us so we can outbid them. Send Luke up to the farm in Long Island and talk to the manager.”
“He called, but Leo wouldn’t give,” Marcus said.
“Which is why Luke needs to go up there. No one can refuse Luke, and Leo has done business with us since Grandma was still running the shop. There’s a reason, and I don’t think Leo will lie to Luke’s face. Have him take Mom, if he really needs backup. Between the two of them, Leo doesn’t stand a chance.”
Marcus nodded, already on his phone.
“What did Lila say about the events?” I asked, seeing as how Kash’s wife, an event planner, was our biggest account.
Maisie tucked her chin-length blonde hair behind her ear. “Only that a few of her bigger clients broke their contracts and ended up with her old firm.”
“Think we can connect them with Catherine?” I paced.
“We can ask. If anyone can sniff it out, it’s Lila. But then what?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Darcy’s face flashed in my mind, but I pushed it away. I couldn’t ask him for help, not even for this. “Family meeting tonight? In the greenhouse. I’ll text the chat.”
I stopped walking long enough to find my phone and fire off a message to our group sibling chat. A flash of sadness streaked through my chest at the realization that they’d probably started a chat without Jett and me. That they’d been keeping this from us for what, weeks? Months?
The thought soured my stomach. But there would be time to deal with that later.
As my phone buzzed with my brothers’ affirmatives, I turned my attention back to Marcus and Maisie. “All hands on deck. Jett and I will talk to Wasted Words and the firm to see when and how they can spare us.”
Maisie still looked so worried, I knelt at her side and took her hand, smiling with genuine mischief.
“You’ve never really seen the Bennets in action. But you’re about to. We won’t let Longbourne fail. Instead, we’re going to find out if I’m right and how we’re going to turn it around.”
“Maybe … maybe I could talk to my mom,” she said uncertainly. “I don’t know if she’d listen to me after everything, but it’s worth a chance, right?”
“Absolutely not,” Marcus answered without hesitation. “It won’t do any good. If Catherine is anything like Evelyn, she won’t stop until she gets arrested. The only thing that will happen is that Evelyn will hurt Maisie, and I think we can agree she’s hurt Maisie enough for one lifetime.”
He wasn’t wrong. Evelyn Bower was even more of a monster than Catherine, and Maisie had taken the brunt of that since she exited the womb.
“What about the Darcys?” Marcus asked. “Could one of them help?”
With a long sigh, I shook my head. “I can’t ask Liam for help. Who knows whose side he’s on? We’d rather willingly put our hands into a wood chipper than help each other with anything. And Georgie … I think she’d help, but I don’t think she’s any better off than Jett is. I can’t ask her to put herself in the middle of this too.”
Marcus nodded, but he didn’t look pleased.
“We’re on our own,” I said, pulling my laptop out of my bag. “So let’s get started. Where can I set up?”
“Let me see if I can find you a desk.” Marcus gestured to the empty galley.
“I’m going to gather everyone up and see what’s what. And then we’re going to get this place back on its feet, whether Catherine de Bourgh likes it or not,” I promised.
And it was a promise I’d sacrifice everything to keep.
24
My Mistake
LIAM
The work week had been unbearably long.
It seemed the clock moved slower than usual, or maybe it was just that I noticed it while living in solitude. I felt my aloneness acutely. Georgie had folded in on herself, boarding up the shutters as she handled her heartache. Laney had been absent, something to do with her family. I never quite got a straight answer—Georgie barely said more than a sentence at a time, Caroline didn’t give enough of a shit to remember, and Laney wouldn’t speak to me. Wouldn’t even make eye contact with me the one time we’d seen each other.
It had been on the day of the review, when our teams presented our concepts to Georgie in preparation of prop
osing them to Cooper and Rose. I gave our presentation first, and I couldn’t help but watch Laney for a reaction. Was she impressed? Did she see the merit in what we’d done? Or did she hate it all, me first and foremost? But there was no way to know, not with her gaze stuck on her notebook and her hand in constant motion. It’d be filled of murderous images of me from cover to cover by the time the job was through.
Sadness struck me at the thought.
Her presentation was brilliant, well thought out, and innovative. As she smiled and went through their materials, she occasionally scanned the room, meeting everyone’s eyes but mine.
I’d become a blank space in her world, and I didn’t blame her for it, even if I was sorry. It wasn’t as if I could explain it away again. We were well beyond that.
But as I sat in my office late that Friday night, I considered it again. She was still here working on her final presentation, which we’d deliver Monday to Cooper and Rose. This was it—the last chance to put any finishing touches on our work before it was decided once and for all. Her or me.
My office door had been open for hours, and I could see the light on at her temporary desk, occasionally catching the top of her head over the cubicle wall. That little sliver of her crown shouldn’t have been so distracting. But I found myself glancing at it incessantly, like a mosquito bite I couldn’t stop scratching.
So I decided to quit fighting it. If ever there were a chance to bridge the gap between us, it was now. So I ordered pho from a place she liked, gleaning her favorite meal from the times I’d seen her slurping at it with a pair of chopsticks and the one time we’d ordered for the office. It should have been offensive to watch her eat like that, so sloppy and loud. Instead, I’d watched for the dart of her tongue as she gathered noodles into her mouth or appreciated the way her lips looked when they closed around her chopsticks.