“I can tell him where to take me,” she snaps. “Get out.”
Numb with disbelief, I step away from the car and close the door. I need to follow her, but I also need to meet with my brother and do something about my bank accounts and not get arrested for harassing a woman right after I’ve just been let back in the country.
Heading back inside, I find the lobby mercifully empty. I’m shaking with rage by the time I get to my flat. It takes me three minutes to pack my bags and head back downstairs.
Jacques, having read my mind, has another taxi waiting. I give him a couple of folded bills and thank him for his help. Then I get in the cab and give the driver my brother’s office address.
—twenty-five—
Alison
The desk clerk at the airport hotel doesn’t blink when I ask to be registered under a pseudonym. Maybe this is how celebrities do it. I hand over my credit card, grateful for the privilege that allows me to not sleep at the airport tonight—that allows me to flee to the airport, passport in hand, knowing that I can just buy the next available flight home.
I don’t cry until I’m behind the locked door of my hotel room, and even then, I wait until I’m in the shower to really let loose.
Doubt is already warring with anger inside my heart. Should I have stayed and heard him out?
Is there anything he could say to make this okay?
He’s watched my family dynamic. He knows how wary I am.
If I’m not going to put myself first and protect my heart, how can I ever expect a man to do the same? No. I need to leave.
But as I towel off and curl up on the bed, I already miss him. I miss his laugh, and how big he is when he wraps around me. I miss his arms, holding me tight, and I miss the lie that I’d started to believe was blooming between us.
That’s the fucking kicker.
Even as I tell myself it was a fantasy concoction, I miss it so much it feels like a knife cleaving me in two.
I fall asleep, but my phone wakes me up while it’s still dark. My flight isn’t until midmorning. I grab at it, heart pounding. If it’s Scott, will I answer? Will I be able to stop myself from answering?
Fingers shaking, I lift it so I can see the screen.
It’s Hailey.
My heart cracks again.
When I don’t answer, she texts.
H: Scott called me. He said you had a fight. Setting aside the fact that I didn’t know you two were together…are you okay?
A: We’re not together
H: Awww, sweetie, I’m sorry
A: Nothing to be sorry about, it’s fine
H: You’re in England
A: Leave it alone
H: Okay
A: I might need to hide at your place for absolutely no reason
H: We’ll pick you up, let me know what time your flight gets in
I send her the details and turn off my phone. I don’t want to stay with my sister, really, but I can’t go home. Scott will come there sooner or later, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to ignore him.
—twenty-six—
Scott
Jeff stares at me across his massive desk. “You want me to do what?”
“You don’t need to do it yourself. Just get someone to do it.” I’ve given him a list of tasks I need taken care of here in England. I’m leaving for Washington on an afternoon flight. Ali’s on a morning flight, which I couldn’t get on, no matter how big the bribe. It’s bad enough that I can’t get there to be waiting for her. I’m not losing another day or two just to handle some basic administrative details.
“You want a bathtub removed from your flat and shipped to the U.S.”
“Yes.”
“They sell bathtubs back home. Not sure if you’re aware.”
“Humor me.” And it’s the only part of my flat I care about anymore. If a flame thrower could be taken to the entire building, that would make me happy.
“Fine.” He glances at the rest of the list. “You’ll need to provide our attorneys with an affidavit allowing them to act on your behalf with the banks.”
“We can do that over breakfast.”
He scowls. “I take it this means you aren’t coming to see the nanotechnology lab tomorrow.” We were going to take a helicopter up to Leeds. I thought Ali would enjoy it.
Acid rises in my throat at the damage my secrets caused her. “Not this time.”
“Shame. When we begin the process to go public with Mayfair Enterprises, I’m going to buy the lab from the company. I’d enjoy bringing you into this new venture.”
“Not my dream, bro.”
“Fair enough.” He rocks back in his chair. “I really didn’t tell Madelyn anything, you know.”
I don’t know if I can believe him or not. I do know he didn’t hurt me on purpose, but my brother can be thoughtless. Selfish.
Apparently it’s a family trait.
“Not really my priority right now.” I press my thumb against the throbbing vein in my temple. “How long until we can rouse one of your lawyers from bed?”
“You should get some sleep yourself.”
“Not an answer.”
“I can get them up now if it’s that important.”
Has he not been fucking paying attention? “It’s that important.”
He picks up the phone. I don’t miss the eye roll. I don’t care.
An hour later, three lawyers are in the boardroom with me, listening to the entire clusterfuck tale of my investigatory role when I was here last, how I was found out by John Glandsworth while he was sleeping with my fiancée, accused of spying on the government, and run out of the country with my tail between my legs because of my family name.
“And why wasn’t this…taken care of two years ago when the dust-up occurred?” one of them asks me.
A dust-up. I was a fucking spy, and because of my family’s wealth, it’s no big deal. “I didn’t want any favors from my father.”
From the corner of the room, where he’s been writing on his tablet, Jeff snorts. “But from your brother…”
I didn’t want to owe him, either. “Desperate times and all that.”
“I can’t believe all it took to bring you back into the family fold was a woman.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m back in the fold.”
“Then why did I summon Mayfair family solicitors—”
The lead lawyer cleared his throat. “Barrister.”
“Whatever,” Jeff waves his hand, and it reminds me painfully, blindingly of Ali talking about the different words the Brits use for things.
She’d been having such a good time. All her guards were down. She’d thought she’d flown halfway around the globe and away from her toxic family, and when she wasn’t looking, my own toxic history hissed in her face.
I’d wanted to protect her, and I ended up hurting her terribly.
“Fine. I owe you one. Now can we get this over with? I need to get to the airport.”
By mid-morning, I’ve signed a dozen legal documents and arranged to put my flat up for sale again. This time, an agency will deal with all the details, and coordinate with a solicitor in the legal firm’s offices.
Jeff promises his assistant will keep him apprised of everything so I don’t need to think about it again, and asks me to have lunch with him again in New York sometime soon. “You owe me,” he reminds me.
“Lunch it is.” The promise rolls off my tongue more smoothly than I expect. Maybe these baby steps of leaning on him for help are actually working to bridge a connection again. Terrible to think that it’s easier because the old man has passed on, but that might just be the truth.
Too complicated a truth to worry about now, though.
I’ve got a plane to catch.
A woman to find.
And a fight to finish.
BOOTY CALL
part four
WASHINGTON, AGAIN
—twenty-seven—
Alison
It takes Scott three days to talk his way past Cole and Hailey. By the time he does, he’s pissed. “Ali!” he hollers as he stomps into their living room. “Get your ass out here and stop hiding from me.”
“I’m not hiding,” I snap as I slide out of their guest room, although yeah, that’s exactly what I was doing. “I just didn’t want to see you.”
I’m not ready for this, but he’s made his point. He’s not going away until we hash this out more than what I yelled at him in the street outside his flat.
I flush with embarrassment at the memory of how I acted. I’m not proud of having let his ex get under my skin like that.
And despite my anger, and my regret, my first reaction when I catch sight of him is my heart leaping into my throat.
He looks like hell. He hasn’t shaved. Probably hasn’t slept, either.
He looks like he needs a hug, and Cole sure as shit isn’t going to give him one. My brother-in-law is standing toe-to-toe with Scott—so he’s been allowed in, but he’s on a short leash.
I’m not going to give him a hug, either, I don’t think, but I don’t need a pit bull protecting me either.
“Cole, can you give us the room?”
He gives me a surprised look and I shrug. I might not be happy with the guy, but he’s not going to hurt me.
I settle on the couch and gesture to the chair across from me. He takes it, his gaze wary at my sudden adoption of social niceties. “What? I went to finishing school.”