She slid into her chair, a look of confusion passing over her face. She tilted her head to look up at me. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," I continued, taking my own seat, "what if I'd walked up to you at a party and asked you out?"
She furrowed her brow, obviously considering my question very seriously. "I . . . I mean, I would have been happy to see you, Brogan. Happy and surprised and . . . I would have said yes. I would have hoped we could mend our friendship, that I could apologize and that you'd accept it." The look on her face was wistful as if she were wishing things had happened just that way. God, so did I.
I nodded, a wave of regret passing through me. Things could have been different. But they weren't. And now they couldn't be, and I had to tell Lydia why. She raised her glass, a small smile on her lips. "To mending friendships." Oh Lydia. But I raised my glass, too, offering her a small smile.
We dug into our food, roast beef tenderloin with a Caesar crust and a side of roasted potatoes and mixed vegetables. Lydia let out a small moan. "God, this is good. You must be thrilled to be eating something I didn't cook."
I chuckled. "Actually, you're a good cook." I decided not to mention, in actuality, I had barely tasted her cooking. I'd been so busy watching her, thinking about her as she'd served Anna and me. Anna-another woman I'd used for my own selfish purposes-to make Lydia jealous. I blamed so many others for the wrongs done against me, and yet my own sins were piling up faster than poker chips during a winning streak.
Lydia and I ate in silence for another few minutes. After taking a sip of wine, she said, "So are you going to tell me what you do for work, or is it top secret?"
"I'll get to that. But first, we need to discuss us."
"Us?" she asked, her voice slightly breathy.
I cleared my throat. "Us, meaning you, me, and your brother."
She nodded. "Right, of course." I moved my food around on my plate for a moment, trying to come up with the right words for what I was about to say. She waited, a nervous expression on her face.
"Lydia, your brother has gone from bad to worse."
She frowned. "What do you mean? I just talked to Stuart a few days ago. He texts me almost every day."
"It's easy enough to lie in a text. You can't see the person." I paused, my eyes running over the beautiful lines of her face. "He's gambling again."
Lydia looked suddenly ill. "Gambling?" she whispered, shaking her head back and forth. "He doesn't have any money, though. He can't be gambling. What is he gambling with?"
"He's been gambling on credit. And he's been losing."
She closed her eyes briefly, placing her fork down on her plate with a soft clatter. "On credit. Are you sure?"
"Very."
She let out a slow, deep breath. "Okay. If you'll give us the company back, I know I can get it on solid ground again financially. Then I'll have the means to help Stuart and-"
"I'm not giving you the company back, Lydia."
Her eyes widened, and she sat back in her chair. "I know what he did to you was horrible, Brogan. I know, I do. But look where you are and look where he is. Surely you can let go of some of that hatred. After this morning, I thought maybe-"
"It's not a matter of me hating him anymore." I leaned forward, my elbows on the table. "Where do you think your brother is gambling? Whose credit do you think he's using?"
"I . . . I don't know."
"He's dealing with the mob. And the mob doesn't take kindly to people who can't pay back their debts. They're notoriously unforgiving on the matter."
"Unforgiving," she murmured. As the full impact of what I was saying hit her, tears filled her eyes. "Please, Brogan, there has to be another way. Could we not . . . could I not be given the responsibility to turn the company around? Surely I could raise the capital to pay Stuart's debts. Despite all his faults, he's . . . he's all I have. The only family I have left in the world." She paused, looking at me as if trying to read the thoughts in my mind. "If I have to, I'll sell it and pay Stuart's debts, and I'll pay you back, too. We can work out a payment schedule for the debt Stuart will still owe you-"
I shook my head back and forth slowly. "It'd be unlikely you'd get any decent offers once a buyer looked into the company finances. Frankly, it wasn't even worth the amount Stuart lost to me." But it had been what I wanted. The only thing I'd wanted at the time. Or at least the only thing I'd been willing to be honest with myself about wanting.
"Unlikely, but not impossible," she said faintly.
"And you don't have time for that anyway." I didn't mention the fact that even without Stuart's recent suicidal decisions, I wouldn't have given the company back just so they could end up exactly where they'd started. She simply didn't have the resources. My eyes met hers, and I flinched at the fear I saw in her blue-green gaze. Feck. If Stuart were here now, I'd tear him limb from limb.
She nodded. "Okay, well, this isn't your problem, obviously. I'll figure something out." She started to rise.
"Sit down, Lydia. Please." She paused, her gaze sweeping over my expression and then did as I asked.
"I have an offer for you, and I have some demands."
"An offer? Demands?" she repeated blankly.
"Years ago, I did some work for the men who hold Stuart's loans. I might be able to buy him some more time to pay them back."
"Why would you do that?" she asked. "You planned this. Isn't it what you want?"
I pressed my lips together. "Dammit, Lydia, you have no idea what these men will do to your brother if he doesn't pay them back, what they'll do to you. I'm not a bloody monster. I admit I wanted your brother ruined, but not tortured and dead." I closed my eyes briefly. Admitting aloud that I had orchestrated her brother's ruination didn't bring me the pleasure it once had. In fact, it brought a peculiar feeling of sadness and shame.
"I will not take responsibility for your brother's fuck-ups, but I will take responsibility for my own. And I will try to help him because of you, Lydia. Because I want to keep you safe." I shook my head, pausing before I said, "I want you to come live with me in my apartment in New York City."
Her eyes widened, and she stared at me for a moment. "Is that necessary-?"
"Yes. And it's what I insist upon if I'm going to try to help Stuart."
She licked her lips, sucking the bottom one between her teeth for a moment and the movement made my guts clench. "For how long?"
"I don't know. For as long as it takes to make sure you're not in danger."
She appeared to consider the situation I'd just explained to her. Perhaps to find a way out . . . an alternative. "What will happen with De Havilland Enterprises in the meantime?" she asked, obviously hoping that once this was over she'd have a chance to reclaim her company. Would she? Would I eventually give it back? Sell it back on some payment schedule? I had told Fionn I wouldn't, but now things had changed.
"I have a team in there now whose sole specialty is bringing back companies on the brink of financial ruin."
"I see." Her eyes wandered away again, the wheels in her mind obviously turning. "And then will you sell it? Once it's on solid ground, I mean?"
"I don't know. I haven't decided anything yet."
She nodded. "My father-"
"I know. Your father created that company from nothing. He worked hard every day, and he made it what it was before your brother got his hands on it. He loved it. He was extremely proud of it."
"Yes," she said quietly.
"I'm not out to ruin what was your father's dream. I'm trying to revive it."
She let out a breath. "I guess . . . I guess that's more than what my brother was doing."
I didn't say anything. She already knew how I felt about her brother. "I was trying, you know-"
"I know. I know that." I'd had the men looking into the company finances look into Lydia and Stuart's personal finances as well. Lydia had been putting practically every dime she earned back into the company in a number of ways-advertising, endorsement, even making up for the shortfall in payroll in the last several months. And though I was sure she hadn't fully realized it, Stuart had been spending ten times as much as he was earning, underhandedly raping the profits that should have been put back into the business. Lydia had been fighting an uphill battle, one destined for failure all along. And now she was broke. Not just broke, practically penniless. I didn't even know how she'd managed to buy the groceries I'd sent her out for. I'd felt sick to my stomach this morning when I'd received the details from my investigators.