I’ve owned the site long enough to know that there are things I can do from my own computer to shut it down, but not as completely as I might like…and though I spend several hours with my mouse hovered over the button to discontinue database operations, I can’t bring myself to click it.
I’m so fucking torn.
I can’t take it anymore and flip the laptop’s cover closed, then snatch my phone from the couch beside me, my heart in my throat.
I wait for it to calm down before I tap out a text to Jess.
I thought about what you said.
Yeah? :)
I’m going to shut down the site That’s probably for the best
Yeah. But I just can’t do it
Why not?
Shouldn’t I prove his innocence first?
There’s a long pause.
Care! Don’t be insane. Nothing you post on that site is going to prove anything to those people. It’s way past that point. All you’re going to do is put personal information they don’t need in front of their ravenous faces. Trust me. Just let it go
My face goes pink.
I’ve really helped other people before, though I’m sure you have. But I don’t think this is that kind of scenario. Let me guess—you told people if their husbands were visiting hotels without them?
Yeah, that kind of thing
I know your heart is in the right place, Care, but Ace doesn’t need you to protect him from rumors. They’ll fade away on their own.
Another pause, another text.
I really feel like you should focus on proving to him that what you want is him, not to profit from the fact that he’s a person of interest in New York’s hottest scandal. Of course we both know this isn’t a real scandal….
You’re right.
She’s absolutely right, and I’ve been an idiot.
Ace Kingsley is the kind of man who can fend for himself. That’s one of the things I like best about him—that he does what he needs to do for himself.
He’s strength in the face of ridiculous rumors, a wife who died, an Italian crime boss who tried and failed to put him behind bars.
And damn it if I’m going to lose him over this stupid website.
I pull the laptop back onto my lap and log in.
There’s housekeeping I need to do before I pull the trigger on this.
I’m going to shut down Rainflower Blue at ten o’clock tomorrow morning, come hell or high water, and I’m never going to look back.
I’m only going to look forward.
The next decision comes to me in a flash of inspiration.
Even if Ace doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, I need to make a plan.
I need to get out of New York City.
I’ve been here for too long, submerged in the endless river of rumors that flows along the streets, and I need to start over somewhere new. It won’t be enough to simply shut down the website.
I’ll set up something with the realtor as soon as I can formulate this note to my subscribers and figure out just how much cash I’ll need for refunds for the rest of this month’s subscription fees.
My heart beats faster in my chest. Starting over somewhere new. Somewhere new, Ace by my side….
…or not.
Chapter 44
Ace
No.
No, I’m not fucking sure that it’s over.
In fact, I’m not sure I did the right thing by walking out on Carolyn at all.
She didn’t have a real chance to explain herself, and after the conversation with Eli, I’m beginning to think this entire venture grew out of a real desire to do something for the good of other people. I’ve seen the way she treats her employees at the boutique. I’ve seen the way she treats her neighbors.
Can I blame her for making a profit off of it?
My own father has admitted to making a few shady investments early on in his career.
Nobody is fucking spotless.
And the truth is, Carolyn fits me.
Body and soul, as goddamn pathetic as that sounds.
I cannot lose her over this.
The thought is so powerful it feels like I’m having a heart attack.
I can’t.
I absolutely cannot lose her over some stupid website.
Who the fuck cares if all of New York is talking about me? I certainly haven’t been any worse off for it. Elisa’s father doesn’t have the reach to torture me in New York, which was my main concern when I left Italy. If he wanted to make my life miserable, he’d have done it by now.
I’m free of that.
And if Carolyn made some extra money by hosting a website, who the hell am I to judge her?
I have to find her.
I stand up from behind my desk so abruptly that I crash into the keyboard tray, then reflexively shove it back under the desk. It sticks and I have to jam it in.
“Damn it.”
My secretary, Cecily, whom I share with several of the others in this unit, pokes her head in the door. “Mr. Kingsley? Is everything all right?”
“I don’t have time to send an email.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kingsley, I—”
I run a hand through my hair. “I’m not going to be in for the rest of the afternoon. Or the morning.” I want to be decisive, striding out of here with a fucking purpose, and I’m losing my damn mind over the possibility that it’s already too late.
I have to get to her now.
“Mr. Kingsley? What can I do for you?”