Owned By Fate(22)

Caroline waited until Eliza looked at her. “Hey, stupid would have been not booking it and going through with something you weren’t comfortable with.” Jonah’s voice whipped through her head, asking for her safe word, asking her to trust him. She’d never once felt apprehensive. There hadn’t been room for it among the heat. “You did the right thing. Nothing to be embarrassed about, Eliza.”

“Thanks,” her friend mumbled, clearly not convinced.

“So you, uh…have to be cleared to go upstairs?” Caroline picked up the knife again and attempted to saw a sesame seed bagel in half. “No one cleared me.”

Laughter bubbled from Eliza. “You went upstairs?”

“Hmm.”

“Were you gagged and kidnapped? It’s the only way I can imagine that happening.”

“No, but I hear they do that sort of thing on the third floor.”

Eliza smirked. “Come on, Ro. Details.”

Caroline was saved when Oliver strode into the room, as usual looking like he’d just showered and thrown on the closest suit he could get his hands on. If she didn’t love him to pieces, she would have scowled at him for making the polished-yet-tousled look seem so effortless. His blue gaze bounced from Caroline to Eliza and lingered appreciatively, something she’d grown used to. Her brother made no apologies about his love for women. It was kind of sickening, actually, the effect her brother had on the opposite sex, and her best friend had never been completely immune, no matter what she tried to convince herself and Caroline. Even now, she could feel tension radiating from Eliza from two feet away.

“Hey, Ro.” He picked up a slice of apple and popped it into his mouth, never taking his eyes off Eliza. Kind of like he wished the apple were Eliza instead. “New haircut, Bunny?”

Her friend eye-rolled the nickname he’d given her in college, but she didn’t succeed in completely hiding her pleasure. “Thanks for noticing, playboy. I’m surprised you can keep track with all the haircuts coming in and out of your life.”

He smiled, but it wasn’t as light as usual when someone inevitably reminded him of his player status. “You know you’re in a class all by yourself, babe.”

Sensing something different and definitely concerning in the air, Caroline started to change the subject, but Oliver beat her to it.

“Thought any more about the merger?” he asked her. “It’s getting close.”

Her smile felt like it might crack. “I guess we’ll see how the article goes tomorrow.”

“I guess we will,” he murmured. “You met Jonah Briggs the other day, and you’ve been to Serve yourself. Both of those things should be enough to provoke a relatively positive article. I can count on you to be honest, can’t I?”

“Of course.” When Oliver scrutinized her, she glanced away quickly before he could see the guilt in her eyes. Thankfully, an assistant wearing a headset entered the room, saving her from any further questions. “We’re ready for you.” He tapped his watch. “Three minutes to opening bell. Your father is already in place.”

With a final glance at Eliza, Oliver followed the assistant from the room. Caroline and Eliza rose from the couch to follow. On their way through the door, she turned to Eliza to remind her that while her brother was an amazing person, she couldn’t take his flirting seriously. The last thing in the world she wanted was for her friend to get hurt. But Eliza spoke first, laying a hand on her arm. “Don’t think you’re getting away without telling me what happened upstairs at Serve. I expect a full account later.”

She blew out a breath. “It’s a long story. And unfortunately, it’s not over yet.”

After tonight, though, it would be. For good.

…

Jonah set down the pink paint–coated paintbrush and looked around the garden-level space in the Brooklyn brownstone he’d purchased last month. He tried to picture a kid running around or sprawling on the rug in front of the television, but he couldn’t do it. What did that even look like? Did an eight-year-old girl require kid-proofing, or had Gabby moved beyond that?

Buying the apartment had been wishful thinking on his end. While Gabby’s mother, Renee, seemed grudgingly grateful for the monetary support he provided, visitation had been a definite no-go so far. In purchasing this place, he hoped to bolster his chances of eventually earning that right. Even if those visits were limited to an hour, supervised or not, this was the only home she would ever associate with her father.

Not having been even remotely acquainted with the area, he’d been assured a dozen times by his realtor that this neighborhood, miles away from Serve and all it represented, was one of the most respected, family-oriented sections of Brooklyn. His short walks every few days from the train had confirmed it. Parents and nannies crowded the sidewalks, shuffling children in plaid uniforms to school, reminding them to ask questions in class and eat their lunch. Tree-lined streets were kept immaculate, casting shade on historic homes. He wondered what his neighbors would think if they knew who had just bought a home next door. Money, at least, didn’t discriminate.