by Piper Rayne
It was only months ago, I concocted a plan with Seth that’s now ended in disaster. So now not only is my heart is gone, my financial security is too.
“What do you mean you’re closing the shops?”
“You go and do what you love. Everyone is in agreement—we’re joining forces again, but this time it’s the two of us.” Mrs. Andrews motions between her and my mom. “The way it should have been from the get-go.”
“Definitely,” my mom says.
“Really?” I’m shocked that these two families with so much baggage between them can overcome everything and start another business together.
“But we would like you to continue to help with the books for a while. Maybe you could teach us,” my mom says.
“What about Trevor?” I ask.
“He’s decided to head south to Florida.” Mrs. Andrews shrugs. “Wants to do something, anything other than run a bagel shop.”
“He’s moving?” I ask.
She nods.
“Don’t look so upset. If you want to work with us, you’re more than welcome to,” my mom says.
“Yes, we’re not kicking you to the curb.” Mrs. Andrews laughs.
I sit in the booth as they go over possible names for the bagel shop and all the things they’ve wanted to incorporate throughout the years.
“How did you guys keep your friendship going after the fight?” I ask, pulling them out of their bubble of happiness.
Mrs. Andrews laughs. “I should probably go.” She winks just like Seth does, and longing and sadness fill my veins.
“No. Stay,” my mom tells her. “You’re an integral part of our story, and I think she’s asking for more than just her curiosity.”
I say nothing.
Mrs. Andrews nods and looks at me. “We just kept it going. It was our husbands’ problem, not ours.” She shrugs.
“But the trust between you…” I’m starting to hate that five-letter word.
“Trust? I’ve always trusted Deb. I knew she had to do things for the business and we never talked about it unless we were complaining about work or discussing you and Trevor taking over our businesses. But we concentrated on what we loved, which was each other.” My mom grabs my hands. “I know you’re struggling right now, and I’ve tried to give you your space, but can the daughter I know and love show up? The one who meets a challenge and conquers it?”
My nose tickles and my throat closes up, tears threatening to fall.
“You love Seth, and that’s not going to change. I promise you. I’ve been trying to give you time to get comfortable with the feeling because I know it’s new and scary for you. It’s hard to make yourself vulnerable and put your heart in someone else’s hands.” She looks at Mrs. Andrews. “We both know that. And I’m probably biased because my best friend raised the boy you love, so I can’t help but believe he’ll hold that heart with tender hands.”
The tears fall and I wipe them away with the heel of my palm.
“He’s a good boy. I promise. This was just a misunderstanding. You two are young and foolish. You’re supposed to be. This is your first time experiencing something so magical and life-changing.” Mrs. Andrews covers my mom’s and my joined hands. “And your mom is right. It’s scary, and when things are scary, you’re not always rational. But the two of you not pursuing your love is foolish.”
I sit back and think about Seth and how I ache for him every second of every day.
“If you two hadn’t joined forces, none of this might have happened,” Mrs. Andrews says. “Our friendship wouldn’t have come out of the darkness. We wouldn’t be combining the businesses again. You wouldn’t be free to pursue your own happiness. That’s the power of love. It trumps all.”
I sink into my seat, pressing my heels into my eye sockets. I ended it. How could I have been so stupid? He’ll never take me back now.
Mrs. Andrews sighs. “My son hasn’t been the happiest of people lately, even though his own dream is coming true.”
“What does that mean?” I whisper, removing my hands from my eyes.
“He got the gallery spot and his show will open this Thursday evening.”
“So soon?”
She laughs. “The owner had a cancelation—some artist who lost their muse or something—and decided that since Seth had so much to show, she’d showcase him.”
I smile. The first real one since everything fell apart between us. I’m happy for him.
“But the problem is, he’s not truly appreciating it because his heart is somewhere else.” She pats our hands. “It’s with you, sweetie. He misses you.”
“Come on, Evan. It’s time for you to live. Go,” my mom urges.
Mrs. Andrews digs into her purse and slides an invitation toward me. It’s clearly not for me, something she probably carries around to show off. “Go see what happens. He could use all the support he can get.”
I read the invitation and nod. “I’ll be there.”
No matter what Seth thinks of me, I’ll make him see that we’re too good to give up. I know the real thing when I feel it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Seth
I’m at the studio with the coordinator, Ursula, in the private viewing room.
“This is truly one of the best displays I’ve seen in my career. Thank you for allowing me to view it. I understand why it’s intimate to you, and if you choose not to allow the public in, I understand. Your other work on landscapes is magnificent as well. I’m sure we’ll find some buyers tonight. You’re like a little treasure I’ve uncovered.” She pats my arm and walks out of the blocked off room.
I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve spent more time on the photos here than I did on what the public will see. It was therapeutic, to say the least.
After walking into the main gallery, I position the closed sign in front of the velvet drapes and straighten my suit jacket. A few people are sprinkling in, but no one I recognize yet.
I always hate when I go to a gallery and the photographer is there schmoozing, so I stand back from the crowd and observe for a while, looking over my work. It only reminds me of Evan.
“Hey, man.” Knox squeezes my shoulder. “Did you call her?”
I shake my head. “If my mom did her job right, she’ll be here. I have to trust that.”
Giving my mom the invitation on the sly when she stopped by the studio a few days ago should guarantee Evan will receive it. My mom can’t keep her nose out of my business.
I had thought about sending one to Evan myself, but it felt forced. I want her to come because she wants to. Because she misses me and misses us. Because she’s over the family bullshit and wants to start something real between us.
“I’m proud of you for fighting for her. It takes guts.” Knox accepts a glass of champagne and leaves me to wait impatiently on my own.
All of my friends come in support, each one “oohing” and “ahhing” over each photograph because they’re my friends and they have to be sweet like that. Adrian purchases the one of the Brooklyn Bridge at night for a hefty amount. I told him he didn’t have to purchase it, that’d I make him a copy, but he wasn’t having it.
“Nonsense, I’m supporting my friend,” he says.
Sometimes I feel bad for Adrian because I wonder if he feels like the outsider since most of us have been friends for so long.
“Thanks, man,” I say.
“The Brooklyn Bridge at night holds a lot of great memories for me. You captured it perfectly.” He puts his arm around Sierra, and she looks at him with so much love, I grow nauseated at the thought that I threw away that possibility.
They walk away and I keep glancing at the door, hoping to spot Evan.
My parents and Trevor come, and I’m surprised when Mr. and Mrs. Erickson walk in right behind them. I watch from afar as my mom and Mrs. Erickson walk with linked arms and champagne glasses, stopping to comment on each photo. My dad and Mr. Erickson linger behind, holding a civil conversation. Trevor goes off on his own a
nd ends up finding a woman to talk to.
I’m still shocked he decided to leave Cliffton Heights. Said there’s too much bad here for him and he needs a fresh start. I’ll miss him, but hey, a place to stay in Florida is nice too.
Another hour ticks by and most of my photos have sold, which is crazy for my first showing. But there are still two hours to go.
The doors open, and as if my body just knows, I turn to find Evan walking in. She’s wearing a black cocktail dress that dips to reveal her cleavage, and her heels show off her amazing legs. She smiles and gives her name to the person at the door. I can tell she’s surprised to find she’s already on the list. She shrugs out of her shawl and hands it to the coat check girl.
I wait for her to look up, and when she does, her gaze finds me immediately. I should play this cool. A million jokes fly into my brain as a way to lighten the mood, but I stop myself.
Allow her to see me.
All of me.
We walk toward one another, and I place my half-finished champagne on a tray. My heart beats like a drumline when she’s right in front of me.
“You came,” I say.
“Is it okay? Your mom—”
“Yes. I’m glad you came.”
She looks around and smiles and waves to our friends and family. They can’t stop their stares from lingering on us.
“I guess I’ll just walk around. Congratulations.”
“Can I walk you through?” I ask.
She smiles a little shyly. “I’d love that.”
I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her to the front. She compliments my work, and we talk about the day I took some of these pictures.
“It’s all so beautiful,” she says. “I can’t believe I was sitting on a rock and you were seeing all this when all I saw was a building.”
I laugh. “It’s the angle and the lighting.”
“No, you’re truly talented.”
I don’t respond to her compliment because I want her to reserve her opinion until I show her the part I’m really proud of. “I have one last part to show you.”
“Okay.” She places her now-empty champagne glass on a tray and I slide my hand into hers.
“Is this okay?” I ask.
She gulps but nods. “It says closed.” She points at the sign in front of the room that’s sectioned off.
I weave us around the sign and slide through the curtained area. “Not for you, it’s not.”
She steps in, and I release her hand once we’re in the middle of the room.
Her hand flies to her chest. “Oh, Seth.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Evan
The room is filled with pictures of me. From the first time he snapped that picture of me at the studio, to me lying on a rock in the middle of Central Park. The candid pictures are mixed with the boudoir ones he took in the studio. The walls are covered in a light pink fabric, and the photos are a mixture of black and white and muted colors. Rose petals in shades of pink line the floor with twinkle lights weaved between them.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
“Before you get worried, I’ve only allowed the gallery owner in here. This is for you first and foremost, and if you want to keep this between me and you, that’s okay.”
I turn around, lost in a world of me. “Why did you do this?”
I step closer to a boudoir picture, my arm stretched toward it. My hair is spread out above my head and all my private parts are hidden behind the silk sheet. All that shows is a scrap of my stomach and one leg.
“Because I want you to see yourself like I do. I know things with us are rocky, but I heard about our moms’ plan. And I know you’re lost right now. That you don’t know what you want to do. But this is the woman who has kept a bagel shop open for the last decade. The woman who took the brunt of the storm for her family. This woman is a boss. And I’m not sure you see her when you look in the mirror.”
I shake my head, and tears flow down my cheeks as they have been for the last two weeks.
“Out there, you asked how I was able to see that building for the photograph it could become. Don’t you see? The camera never lies. The woman staring back at us right now is the same woman I see every day when I look at you. I want you to believe in yourself and see what I do.” He steps back as though he’s scared to get too close.
“Thank you.” Those two words don’t come close to what I’m feeling.
This is exactly what I needed. To be reminded of the trust I have in him. Of the girl who fell in love with him a little bit every day. Our moms were right—I can’t throw that girl away because of a misunderstanding. For the first time, I think I finally understand what Seth sees when he looks at me.
“I’ll leave you alone,” Seth says after I stand there admiring the room for a moment.
I spin around. “No. Why?”
“I figured you’d want some time without me.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” I say.
His eyes widen, and a startled expression falls over his face. “I am?”
“I’m not lost.” I walk toward him. “I was.” I stop when I come face to face with him. My hand glides down his tie. “You found me. You found her.” I point at the photograph while my tears cascade down my face.
“I never wanted to make you cry.” His hand cradles my face and his thumb swipes at a tear.
“Say the words,” I practically beg.
“I love you, Evan Erickson.”
I nod. “I know you do. And I love you, Seth Andrews.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
I nod, and he pulls me flush against his body, his hug so tight I can barely breathe but I’m not about to complain. He draws back and his lips capture mine in a kiss that’s sweeter than any other we’ve shared.
“Look, all that planning on your behalf paid off. You finally caught me.” He winks.
My stomach flip-flops like a giant fish is struggling to breathe in there. “Hey, Mack Daddy, let’s not start by rewriting the past. You caught me.”
“That’s not the story we’re telling our grandchildren. Just imagine their faces when I tell them their grandma wanted me so badly, she baited me into a fake engagement and used her magical powers to make me fall in love with her.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head, not annoyed at all because this is Seth, the man I love. He takes me in his arms once more and I sigh at the feeling of finally being here again.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell them Grandpa was trying to get caught by Grandma because he’s loved her for as long as he can remember,” Seth says.
“Uh-oh, you’re growing sentimental on me.”
“I guess love has that effect on people.” He presses a kiss to my forehead.
We exit the private room hand in hand, and Seth hollers to Blanca, “Redo on the Newlywed Game because things just got real.”
I gasp when he dips me and kisses me as everyone claps.
Who would’ve guessed an Andrews and an Erickson could fall so madly in love? Maybe our stars really were aligned this entire time.
Epilogue
Two Months Later…
Seth
“I have to go to work,” Evan whines, stretching her body like a cat beside me.
“I’ll go make us some coffee, then I’ll walk you to work.” I flip off the covers and put on a pair of boxers.
“Really? Walk me to work?” She laughs, climbing out of the bed. She stands naked in the room, grabs her robe, and walks toward the bedroom door.
She works at Sweet Infusion with Rian. Well, she rents a space from Rian to make her cream cheese concoctions. Evan’s started her own little company called Spreads, and so far, she loves it. I think she enjoys the business aspect of it more than actually making the product. More than anything, I think she enjoys the fact that she has a choice and the freedom to do what she wants now. If she decides to pack it in a year from now and try someth
ing else, I’ll support her.
I block her with my body. “Where are you going?”
“Shower,” she mumbles. She’s not much of a morning person since she doesn’t have to wake up before dawn anymore.
“Come back to bed. I’ll do that thing you like.” I waggle my eyebrows.
“Tempting but no.” She rolls her eyes and slides me out of the way. She walks out of our shared bedroom in our one-bedroom apartment and heads to the bathroom.
“You know seeing you naked gets me all hard, and now my big dick will be dangerously close to the oven while I cook your breakfast. Maybe you should solve this problem before you lose your favorite lollipop.”
She peeks out of the bathroom. “Is this you asking me for a blow job?”
For some reason, her words trigger a memory of what Brock said that day.
“Hey,” I call. “Where did you learn to give such a great blow job?”
She raises her eyebrows. “Why are you asking?”
“Just curious.”
She tilts her head because I can’t get anything by her. She might know me better than I do myself.
“That fight with Brock, he said something.” I shrug.
She walks out of the bathroom without her robe, sauntering over to me. Her finger runs down my chest until she cups my groin. “What do you think?”
“I like to think you learned by watching porn or something. You’re a smart girl. I’m hoping you watched a tutorial.”
She laughs and bites her lip. “I can assure you I never went down on Brock Floyd. Does that make it better?”
“Really?”
She raises her eyebrows and I know it’s because I’m questioning her.
“Never mind.” I grab her hips and hoist her onto the counter, wiggling between her thighs.
“This is very unsanitary,” she says.
“I’ll clean it after.” I bend down, bringing her legs over my shoulders so I can show her my own oral skills. “Breakfast of champions.”