“I’m sorry, my boy. I never meant for it to be like this.”
I paced up and down by his bed. “So we change the paperwork, right? Can’t we pass a resolution that changes the rights of that share?” I stopped and gripped the cream metal bar at the foot of the bed, waiting for my grandfather’s response. That had to be the solution, right? “I still own the majority of the company.”
He shook his head. “I wish it were that simple. Once I turned eighty, no changes to investments can be made. I’m so sorry, I had no idea my investment in your company, in your future, could affect you like this.”
My knuckles whitened as my grip on the bed tightened. “This isn’t your fault.”
“I should have had Giles do a full review of our assets much sooner, but . . .” But the stroke had happened and all we’d cared about was his health.
“Don’t think about it.” I didn’t want my grandfather to worry about it. I could do that for both of us. Westbury Group was everything I’d worked for my whole life. It meant I never had to rely on anyone—it was my independence. Westbury Group ensured I didn’t have to be reliant on anyone for anything.
“I’d like to think that Frederick will do the right thing, but . . .”
I sighed. We both knew that would never happen. If Frederick got the chance to ruin me, he’d grab it with both hands. He’d been waiting his whole life to prove to me he was the bigger man. He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.
I had to make this right.
“We’ll find a solution. I’ll speak to Giles about it.”
I might not be the next Duke of Fairfax, but I would do everything within my power to make sure that Frederick didn’t end up destroying everything I’d ever worked for.
Two
Scarlett
Dating in New York City was the worst.
I was following all the advice the internet had to offer—not being too available, not having sex too early and not putting all my eggs in one basket. But I just lurched from one disappointment to another disaster. I’d thought the guy last Thursday was super cute in complimenting my shoes until he confessed he liked to dress up in women’s clothes at the weekend and would like to see if my pink suede five-inch heels came in his size. Maybe I was being too picky, but I just didn’t want to fight with my boyfriend over who wore what when we went for dinner.
And then there was the guy who looked like he’d never had a haircut and didn’t look me in the eye once during our entire date. And how could I forget the forty-something, sweaty man who told our waitress she had a nice rack?
I swiped across the screen of my phone to see a text from Andrew—so far no disaster with him. We’d only had one date, and besides getting the feeling he was a neat freak, he seemed relatively normal. I wasn’t attracted to him exactly. And he hadn’t made me laugh. But he didn’t have me wanting to stab him in the eye with a fork after twenty minutes, so I’d agreed to date number two.
Looking forward to seeing you tonight.
I pulled up my calendar and found an entry that said, “Dinner with Peter.” I looked back at my phone. Had I gotten the contacts confused? Peter was the one who wore plaid and had a cat. I’d agreed to a third date with dinner because on our second date, he’d tipped our waitress really well, even though it was clear he didn’t earn very much. I wasn’t exactly attracted to Peter either.
I scrolled through the messaging history. No, the text was definitely from Andrew.
Shit.
I’d double-booked.
The door to my office swung open and my business partner, Cecily, poked her head of corkscrew curls around the door. “Are you free?” she asked.
“Sure, if you can help me solve my dating dilemma.” I’d been sharing dating dilemmas with Cecily since college. Roommates our sophomore year, we’d bonded as soon as we’d unpacked our copies of The Notebook and abandoned the day for a few hours with Ryan Gosling. I’d been a finance major and her sweet spot had been marketing. It made for the perfect business pairing.
“That sounds like fun. Being married is so boring sometimes.” She took a seat in the chair opposite my desk.
I’d never thought that marriage was boring. I’d loved my husband, had looked forward to going home in the evening and hanging out with him. Over two years after our divorce, and I still missed him. Missed having a partner in crime. Missed my best friend. I forced a smile. “That’s what Marcus said.” Apparently, being in Connecticut with me wasn’t enough for my ex-husband. It was the reason I was here looking over the Hudson and living in a one-bedroom apartment in downtown Manhattan with 90 percent of my belongings in storage. As a married woman I’d lived in a beautiful four-bedroom, clapboard house in Connecticut with incredible views of the water and a fifteen-minute commute to my office. The change was still like a knife to the stomach sometimes. Still in my twenties, I should be embracing living in the city that never slept.
Maybe I was boring.
When he left me, he told me he hated the idea his life was mapped out for him, but me? I’d been happy. Content. With Marcus by my side, everything had been as I had always imagined my life would be from a little girl. I hadn’t thought to wish for anything more.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.”
I smiled. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago.” Except it didn’t feel like it on days like today. I didn’t want to be dating. I’d much prefer to go home and snuggle into bed with a book than go to some fancy restaurant and try to be engaging and funny.
Dating was exhausting.
“So what’s your dilemma? I’ll share mine if you’ll share yours?” she asked as she took a seat on the other side of my desk from me.
“You have a dating dilemma? Does your husband know?” I said, grinning.
“I’m discreet,” she said with a wink. “Come on, spill.”
“I’m just double-booked, that’s all. I made dinner plans with Andrew and Peter tonight.”
“Again?” She cocked her head to one side. “Isn’t that the second double-booking in the last couple of weeks?”
Yeah. And exactly how had I let this happen again?
“Well I guess it means you’re wanting to see them.”
The exact opposite, actually. Andrew and Peter were both nice enough, but I couldn’t see a future with them. Neither of them were my soulmate.
“It’s no big deal. I’ll just cancel one of them.” Or both of them and have a date with my e-reader. “I assume your dilemma’s not a dating one.”
Cecily’s curls bounced as she laughed. “No such luck, and it’s not just my dilemma, either. It’s yours too.” She widened her eyes. “We’ve had another approach from Westbury.”
Westbury was by far the most enthusiastic investment company we’d been speaking to about stepping in to pay off our loans that were about to become due. But it was also the least flexible in its terms.