Author: Roni Loren
When Andre’s muscles went slack, Jace rolled them both to the other side of the bed. Neither of them said anything for the longest time. They simply lay there on their backs, breathing hard and absorbing the impact of what had happened.
“You okay?” Andre asked, finally breaking the heavy silence.
Jace kept his gaze on the ceiling. “Yeah, you?”
“That was great.” He paused, as if positioning his thoughts. “It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time.”
The sentence hung in the air, as if there were a second half to it. “But?”
Andre released a breath. “I miss her, man. I want this. But . . .”
Andre didn’t have to explain. Jace knew exactly what he meant. What was happening between the two of them was great, but if Evan wasn’t with them, would any of it ever feel truly complete?
Jace climbed out of bed, reality settling down on him like a wet blanket. “I know. Believe me. I know.”
Andre sat up on his elbows. “We can’t just let her go.”
Jace grabbed two fresh towels out of his laundry basket, tossing one to Andre. “She’s never going to want to be with me.”
“You don’t know tha—”
“I got her pregnant, Dre. I took her virginity, and I got her pregnant.” He shook his head, his lungs’ capacity seeming to shrink. “She didn’t even trust me enough now to tell me I have a kid.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Jace watched the fountain in the center of the building’s lobby get smaller and smaller as the glass elevator climbed to the top floor. The panel dinged, announcing he’d arrived, and Jace briefly considered punching the button to go right back down. He didn’t belong here anymore. He didn’t want to belong here.
But after looking at every possible scenario, including selling everything he owned, he’d come to the same damn conclusion. If he wanted to protect Evan, he had only one choice.
He stepped off the elevator and into the busy but quiet hallway. Men and women in expensive suits politely nodded at each other as they made their way in or out from their lunch break. Jace’s stomach turned.
He’d worked here for years, doing all he could to prove to everyone that he was worth something. That he could be as successful as his father. And Jace had managed to put a dent in that goal. Three years out of college, he’d been one of the top five earners in the company. And he’d been completely fucking miserable. All the slick smiles, the false handshakes, the endless small talk. Like you actually cared about your client’s golf swing.
The whole thing had been like one endless role-playing game where everyone had a script to read from and a cue to follow.
And now Jace was going to step back into that hell.
He straightened the tie he’d dug out of the back of his closet, straightened his shoulders, and headed down the hall that led to his father’s office. Might as well get it over with. A kick in the nuts wouldn’t hurt any less later.
He passed a couple of open doors, but kept his attention forward. One step in front of the other. The muffled sound of hard-soled shoes on ugly gray carpet mixing with the faint click of keyboards. Jace imagined that’s what a death march sounded like. Click. Click. Tap.
He turned to round a corner, but a voice held him up.
“Jace?”
Jace glanced behind him to find his older brother leaning out of one of the offices. Great. Just what he needed. An audience to witness his humiliation. “Hey, Wy.”
Wyatt gave Jace a head to toe once-over, a crease forming in his forehead. “What are you doing here?”
Jace pulled at the knot of his tie. “Don’t ask.”
Wyatt cocked his head toward his open doorway. “Come in here a sec.”
“Wy, I really don’t have time—”
“Come on, little brother. You’ve got time. Dad’s in a meeting.” He disappeared back into his office.
Jace shoved his hands in his pockets and followed him. Wyatt probably wanted to gloat and tell him what Jace’s assistant duties would be. Good times. He stepped into Wyatt’s posh office and sat on one of the two leather couches.
Wyatt propped a hip on the edge of his desk, evaluating Jace with cool blue eyes. “You’re here to give in to Dad.”
Just the words made Jace want to heave. Give in. To Dad. “Can we talk about something else? Don’t you have a new award or something to show off?”
“Don’t give me that shit, Jace. You know Dad’s the one who does that. Not me.” He shrugged. “I know you couldn’t care less about all this stuff or what I do.”
Jace pressed his lips together, a hint of guilt poking at him. “Hey, if this does it for you, that’s great. Honestly. I sometimes wish you’d been born after me instead of before. Trying to live up to your level of success is a bitch.”
Wyatt scoffed. “Yeah, my success. I’ve got millions in the bank and don’t have a damn second to spend any of it. Or anyone to spend it with. I’m on top of the world, little bro.”
Jace stared at him, shock stealing his words. Wyatt—wunderkind financier and golden child—wasn’t happy? Sure, Jace knew the guy didn’t date or spend a lot of time on the social scene, but he’d always figured that was how his brother preferred things.
Wyatt ran a hand through his short-cropped dark hair. “Look, just tell me what’s going on. I know if you’re coming to Dad, things must really be in the shitter.”
Jace leaned back on the couch, resigned. What did he have to lose by telling his brother? Wy would know soon enough anyway. No doubt his father would tell anyone in shouting distance how right he’d been, how his wayward son had come groveling back to him for help.
“Diana’s blackmailing me. If I don’t pay, she’s going to ruin the reputation and career of someone I care about.” He looked down at his hands. “My store is stable and I know I can grow it, but I don’t have the money to pay Diana off right now. So here I am.”
Wyatt released a whistling breath. “So you’re going to give up your dream to save someone else?”
“She’s more important than my store. I figure I can suck it up and work here again for a few years. Get your coffee and type your e-mails—whatever the hell an assistant does. Then save my cash and maybe try a business again one day.”
Wyatt laughed, a big and hearty one that almost didn’t look right on him. Jace realized he hadn’t seen Wy laugh like that since they were teenagers. “I admire your selflessness. But you would be the worst assistant ever.”
Jace couldn’t help but grin. “What? I can type.”
“Look, bro, I know things haven’t been great between us for a while. But the only reason I get pissy with you is because I’m damn jealous sometimes.”
Jace smirked. “Right, jealous of me.”
“Yes, of you, smartass. You’re the free spirit of the family. The one who shoots the bird at every rule and expectation and does your own thing. The guy who the girls wanted and the boys wanted to be friends with.” His expression turned serious. “I don’t want Dad to break you of that.”
Jace blinked and stared at Wyatt as if he were seeing his brother for the first time. How had he never noticed how isolated and overworked his brother had become? While Jace had been busy finding every way he could rebel, Wy had been left with the burden of shouldering all of their father’s highest expectations.
“Wy, I appreciate what you’re saying, but I don’t know what else I can do. I can’t let Diana release the information she has.”
His brother crossed his arms. “How much does she want?”
“Half a million.”
“It’ll be in your account tomorrow with an extra hundred grand to put toward your store.”
Jace stood, waving him off. “No, dude. I can’t take your money. It’s not your place.”
“Pay me back when the store expands,” Wyatt said, standing as well. “I’ll consider this an investment in a good business.”
Jace couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Wyatt was going to trust him with that much money? Just like that. And put money into Jace’s business? “You want to invest in Wicked? Have you ever even been in a store like mine before?”
Wyatt’s smile was droll. “I don’t date a lot. But I’m not dead, moron.”
Jace raised his palms. “Sorry, big brother. I wasn’t sure if you’d lost your V-card yet.”
Wyatt punched Jace’s shoulder. “Fucker.”
Jace stuck out his hand. “No, but seriously, man. This is . . . Well, just thank you. Really. It means more than you know.”
Wyatt took Jace’s hand in a firm shake, then pulled him in for a gruff hug. “Happy to help. Now get your ass out of here before Dad catches your scent like a dog on the hunt.”
Jace stepped back. “I’ll find a way to repay you. Not just the money but the favor.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I already have something in mind.” Jace turned and headed out the door, hiding a smile. Once everything settled down, Mr. Workaholic was getting a first-class ticket to a nice big ranch outside the city limits.
Because Jace wouldn’t need his own membership anymore.
Being there without Evan was a form of torture he refused to sign up for.
TWENTY-NINE
Evan leaned against the trunk of an ancient oak tree as she scanned through the photos she’d taken of the vineyards. The little digital camera wouldn’t have been her equipment of choice, but she hadn’t thought to pack one of her own cameras when she’d left the house.
Grant had asked her to take some pictures for a new brochure he was developing for the official winery side of his property. Apparently, in his free time he offered tours and tastings for the public. He’d given her his camera to use even though she’d protested that she’d never get good enough shots with it.
He’d told her to take some test photos to give him an idea of what she could do. Evan suspected he was just being kind and giving her something to focus on while she was holed up at his place. But she’d done the work nonetheless. And it had distracted her. For a while.
But she knew she’d have to head back to town soon. She’d read the Internet stories over the weekend. The cheating scandal had broken and the press was not being kind to her. It didn’t help that Daniel was playing the role of the poor, wronged fiancé a little too convincingly. The media had heaped praise and sympathy on top him like he was some sort of self-help sundae.
He’d called her a number of times, but she couldn’t tolerate talking to him yet. She’d texted him that she was somewhere safe and she’d be home soon. Maybe once her medication kicked in more she could walk back into his house and play fiancée without wanting to either sob or punch someone in the face. Right now, she was still too raw.
She hit the delete button on a few shots that had captured too much of the late-afternoon sun and had thrown off the lighting. Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket and she accidentally deleted a photo she’d wanted to keep.
“Dammit.” She set the camera down and pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans, expecting it to be Daniel calling yet again. But instead, Andre’s name lit up the screen. Her chest contracted. How could she talk to him without losing it? She could barely think of his or Jace’s name without wanting to do tequila shots with a Xanax chaser.
But she’d walked out on the both of them like a yellow-bellied coward. Hadn’t even told Andre good-bye. She knew he deserved better than that. By the third ring, she’d built up enough nerve to hit the button. “Hello?”
A breath. Then: “Hey, bella.”
She bit her lip, just the sound of his voice, the way he said her pet name, making her bones ache. “Hey Andre.”
When Andre’s muscles went slack, Jace rolled them both to the other side of the bed. Neither of them said anything for the longest time. They simply lay there on their backs, breathing hard and absorbing the impact of what had happened.
“You okay?” Andre asked, finally breaking the heavy silence.
Jace kept his gaze on the ceiling. “Yeah, you?”
“That was great.” He paused, as if positioning his thoughts. “It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time.”
The sentence hung in the air, as if there were a second half to it. “But?”
Andre released a breath. “I miss her, man. I want this. But . . .”
Andre didn’t have to explain. Jace knew exactly what he meant. What was happening between the two of them was great, but if Evan wasn’t with them, would any of it ever feel truly complete?
Jace climbed out of bed, reality settling down on him like a wet blanket. “I know. Believe me. I know.”
Andre sat up on his elbows. “We can’t just let her go.”
Jace grabbed two fresh towels out of his laundry basket, tossing one to Andre. “She’s never going to want to be with me.”
“You don’t know tha—”
“I got her pregnant, Dre. I took her virginity, and I got her pregnant.” He shook his head, his lungs’ capacity seeming to shrink. “She didn’t even trust me enough now to tell me I have a kid.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Jace watched the fountain in the center of the building’s lobby get smaller and smaller as the glass elevator climbed to the top floor. The panel dinged, announcing he’d arrived, and Jace briefly considered punching the button to go right back down. He didn’t belong here anymore. He didn’t want to belong here.
But after looking at every possible scenario, including selling everything he owned, he’d come to the same damn conclusion. If he wanted to protect Evan, he had only one choice.
He stepped off the elevator and into the busy but quiet hallway. Men and women in expensive suits politely nodded at each other as they made their way in or out from their lunch break. Jace’s stomach turned.
He’d worked here for years, doing all he could to prove to everyone that he was worth something. That he could be as successful as his father. And Jace had managed to put a dent in that goal. Three years out of college, he’d been one of the top five earners in the company. And he’d been completely fucking miserable. All the slick smiles, the false handshakes, the endless small talk. Like you actually cared about your client’s golf swing.
The whole thing had been like one endless role-playing game where everyone had a script to read from and a cue to follow.
And now Jace was going to step back into that hell.
He straightened the tie he’d dug out of the back of his closet, straightened his shoulders, and headed down the hall that led to his father’s office. Might as well get it over with. A kick in the nuts wouldn’t hurt any less later.
He passed a couple of open doors, but kept his attention forward. One step in front of the other. The muffled sound of hard-soled shoes on ugly gray carpet mixing with the faint click of keyboards. Jace imagined that’s what a death march sounded like. Click. Click. Tap.
He turned to round a corner, but a voice held him up.
“Jace?”
Jace glanced behind him to find his older brother leaning out of one of the offices. Great. Just what he needed. An audience to witness his humiliation. “Hey, Wy.”
Wyatt gave Jace a head to toe once-over, a crease forming in his forehead. “What are you doing here?”
Jace pulled at the knot of his tie. “Don’t ask.”
Wyatt cocked his head toward his open doorway. “Come in here a sec.”
“Wy, I really don’t have time—”
“Come on, little brother. You’ve got time. Dad’s in a meeting.” He disappeared back into his office.
Jace shoved his hands in his pockets and followed him. Wyatt probably wanted to gloat and tell him what Jace’s assistant duties would be. Good times. He stepped into Wyatt’s posh office and sat on one of the two leather couches.
Wyatt propped a hip on the edge of his desk, evaluating Jace with cool blue eyes. “You’re here to give in to Dad.”
Just the words made Jace want to heave. Give in. To Dad. “Can we talk about something else? Don’t you have a new award or something to show off?”
“Don’t give me that shit, Jace. You know Dad’s the one who does that. Not me.” He shrugged. “I know you couldn’t care less about all this stuff or what I do.”
Jace pressed his lips together, a hint of guilt poking at him. “Hey, if this does it for you, that’s great. Honestly. I sometimes wish you’d been born after me instead of before. Trying to live up to your level of success is a bitch.”
Wyatt scoffed. “Yeah, my success. I’ve got millions in the bank and don’t have a damn second to spend any of it. Or anyone to spend it with. I’m on top of the world, little bro.”
Jace stared at him, shock stealing his words. Wyatt—wunderkind financier and golden child—wasn’t happy? Sure, Jace knew the guy didn’t date or spend a lot of time on the social scene, but he’d always figured that was how his brother preferred things.
Wyatt ran a hand through his short-cropped dark hair. “Look, just tell me what’s going on. I know if you’re coming to Dad, things must really be in the shitter.”
Jace leaned back on the couch, resigned. What did he have to lose by telling his brother? Wy would know soon enough anyway. No doubt his father would tell anyone in shouting distance how right he’d been, how his wayward son had come groveling back to him for help.
“Diana’s blackmailing me. If I don’t pay, she’s going to ruin the reputation and career of someone I care about.” He looked down at his hands. “My store is stable and I know I can grow it, but I don’t have the money to pay Diana off right now. So here I am.”
Wyatt released a whistling breath. “So you’re going to give up your dream to save someone else?”
“She’s more important than my store. I figure I can suck it up and work here again for a few years. Get your coffee and type your e-mails—whatever the hell an assistant does. Then save my cash and maybe try a business again one day.”
Wyatt laughed, a big and hearty one that almost didn’t look right on him. Jace realized he hadn’t seen Wy laugh like that since they were teenagers. “I admire your selflessness. But you would be the worst assistant ever.”
Jace couldn’t help but grin. “What? I can type.”
“Look, bro, I know things haven’t been great between us for a while. But the only reason I get pissy with you is because I’m damn jealous sometimes.”
Jace smirked. “Right, jealous of me.”
“Yes, of you, smartass. You’re the free spirit of the family. The one who shoots the bird at every rule and expectation and does your own thing. The guy who the girls wanted and the boys wanted to be friends with.” His expression turned serious. “I don’t want Dad to break you of that.”
Jace blinked and stared at Wyatt as if he were seeing his brother for the first time. How had he never noticed how isolated and overworked his brother had become? While Jace had been busy finding every way he could rebel, Wy had been left with the burden of shouldering all of their father’s highest expectations.
“Wy, I appreciate what you’re saying, but I don’t know what else I can do. I can’t let Diana release the information she has.”
His brother crossed his arms. “How much does she want?”
“Half a million.”
“It’ll be in your account tomorrow with an extra hundred grand to put toward your store.”
Jace stood, waving him off. “No, dude. I can’t take your money. It’s not your place.”
“Pay me back when the store expands,” Wyatt said, standing as well. “I’ll consider this an investment in a good business.”
Jace couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Wyatt was going to trust him with that much money? Just like that. And put money into Jace’s business? “You want to invest in Wicked? Have you ever even been in a store like mine before?”
Wyatt’s smile was droll. “I don’t date a lot. But I’m not dead, moron.”
Jace raised his palms. “Sorry, big brother. I wasn’t sure if you’d lost your V-card yet.”
Wyatt punched Jace’s shoulder. “Fucker.”
Jace stuck out his hand. “No, but seriously, man. This is . . . Well, just thank you. Really. It means more than you know.”
Wyatt took Jace’s hand in a firm shake, then pulled him in for a gruff hug. “Happy to help. Now get your ass out of here before Dad catches your scent like a dog on the hunt.”
Jace stepped back. “I’ll find a way to repay you. Not just the money but the favor.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I already have something in mind.” Jace turned and headed out the door, hiding a smile. Once everything settled down, Mr. Workaholic was getting a first-class ticket to a nice big ranch outside the city limits.
Because Jace wouldn’t need his own membership anymore.
Being there without Evan was a form of torture he refused to sign up for.
TWENTY-NINE
Evan leaned against the trunk of an ancient oak tree as she scanned through the photos she’d taken of the vineyards. The little digital camera wouldn’t have been her equipment of choice, but she hadn’t thought to pack one of her own cameras when she’d left the house.
Grant had asked her to take some pictures for a new brochure he was developing for the official winery side of his property. Apparently, in his free time he offered tours and tastings for the public. He’d given her his camera to use even though she’d protested that she’d never get good enough shots with it.
He’d told her to take some test photos to give him an idea of what she could do. Evan suspected he was just being kind and giving her something to focus on while she was holed up at his place. But she’d done the work nonetheless. And it had distracted her. For a while.
But she knew she’d have to head back to town soon. She’d read the Internet stories over the weekend. The cheating scandal had broken and the press was not being kind to her. It didn’t help that Daniel was playing the role of the poor, wronged fiancé a little too convincingly. The media had heaped praise and sympathy on top him like he was some sort of self-help sundae.
He’d called her a number of times, but she couldn’t tolerate talking to him yet. She’d texted him that she was somewhere safe and she’d be home soon. Maybe once her medication kicked in more she could walk back into his house and play fiancée without wanting to either sob or punch someone in the face. Right now, she was still too raw.
She hit the delete button on a few shots that had captured too much of the late-afternoon sun and had thrown off the lighting. Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket and she accidentally deleted a photo she’d wanted to keep.
“Dammit.” She set the camera down and pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans, expecting it to be Daniel calling yet again. But instead, Andre’s name lit up the screen. Her chest contracted. How could she talk to him without losing it? She could barely think of his or Jace’s name without wanting to do tequila shots with a Xanax chaser.
But she’d walked out on the both of them like a yellow-bellied coward. Hadn’t even told Andre good-bye. She knew he deserved better than that. By the third ring, she’d built up enough nerve to hit the button. “Hello?”
A breath. Then: “Hey, bella.”
She bit her lip, just the sound of his voice, the way he said her pet name, making her bones ache. “Hey Andre.”
