Page 15 of From West, With Regret (NYC Billionaires #2)

TEN

WEST

What the hell am I doing?

It’s the question I should be asking myself, but I’m not.

I don’t feel guilty for the way I’m feeling. I’ve searched for London for years, and now she’s here, a terrorizing brother who I never considered mine won’t stop me from giving in to my feelings. I’ve suppressed them for so long. Pent up frustration and regret have eaten me alive.

But now? London has given me reprieve. She’s a breath of fresh air, bringing me back to life.

Although a few truths remain.

Technically, I’m now her boss, and she’s now my employee. We’ve settled into a basic routine. A professional one, but I can’t help feeling like there’s more. The little teases. The constant texting. The back and forth of pretending to talk about work.

There’s also the matter of me proposing the idea of a reopening of The Veiled Door in a few months, all for the purpose of unveiling London’s work, but now I’m kicking myself for putting a deadline on working with her.

The kicker is, I don’t even know when that might be.

For all I know, London could be finished working on her twentieth piece within a matter of days .

I’ve pigeonholed myself into giving her an easy out. Not that I would force her to stay if she didn’t want to, but I’m not even certain putting a deadline on it would be any better. No amount of time with her will ever be enough.

Then there’s the little fact that she doesn’t remember me.

So, the pent-up frustration still lingers.

It’s been nearly a month since I hired her.

I’ve cleared the upstairs storage room for her to work in, but I know it’s only temporary.

I plan on finding her a bigger studio, one she’s worthy of.

I’ve even considered hitting up Asher and putting an obscene bid on any listing he might have that would work for London’s studio.

Money doesn’t matter to me at this point, especially when it comes to her, but I don’t want to scare her away.

Especially after what she told me about the top one percent and how they feel entitled to living in their own bubble without any regard for giving back to the society that lifted them up in the first place.

Although her marriage to Heath wasn’t a marriage at all, her life has been uprooted. She’s in a new city and adjusting to working with me.

I keep the idea of finding her a bigger studio in my back pocket, seeing if I can come up with another solution. She hasn’t complained about working in the storeroom, but I don’t expect her to.

My mind wanders to that day, when she had the panic attack.

The sound of me moving the boxes and the crashing of my clumsy movements triggered her. Deep in my gut, I know it’s from her past. The time she doesn’t remember, even though I do.

I remember it all. The beauty and the pain.

I’m dying for London to remember me, but her memory also comes with tragedy .

It seems like her mind is toying with the darkest memories.

I hang my head, staring at the rushing water twenty feet below.

“I know we haven’t known each other long, but I realized I never told you that I’m sorry.” Holt offers kindly.

I look over my shoulder to the table where Holt and Asher are sitting.

“Sorry for what?” I ask, confused, rejoining them at the table. I think about the past month and can’t think of a single thing Holt should be apologizing for. His face is pinched, focused on the five cards in his hand.

Our friendship started as business. A reporter working for Holt’s magazine wanted to write an article focusing on local breweries. After the initial interview, I’d gone up to the magazine’s office and met with Holt. From then on, we hit it off.

It’s interesting because when I think back on it, Holt’s the longest friend I’ve ever had. My life never afforded me the opportunity to hold relationships for long, platonic or romantic. When you have a childhood like mine, you learn to accept that no one ever stays.

But there was one exception to this life lesson.

I swallow down the regret I have for knowing I could have had that with London. I did have that. A least we had had the beginning of it before it was ripped away.

Over the years, I’ve realized forcing a dream is a fool’s errand. But is it possible to have second chances at a dream you had when you were fifteen? With someone who only knows who you are now?

“I’m sorry for the loss of your brother,” Holt elaborates, plucking a card from his hand and placing it face down on the table. He picks up another from the deck and adds it to his hand.

“It’s been two months since his death.” I roll my eyes, picking up the cards Asher just dealt. “And I really wish people would stop saying that.”

Holt’s expression deflates. Asher nervously trades glances between Holt and me. I can tell they don’t know what to say or what to do. They weren’t expecting that response from me.

“I’m sorry, man.” I groan, running my hand down the length of my face. “I know you were just trying to be a good friend. It’s just my relationship with Heath was complicated.”

Holt sighs, his nostrils flaring. “It seems it was that way with his wife, too.”

“Yep.” I take a swig of my beer as the breeze brushes over my skin.

“How is it working with London?” Asher asks, taking a sip of his seltzer and lime.

The steward brings us another round of drinks without us even asking.

I tell him thanks and glance down at the pier, waiting anxiously for London. Since we’re in the middle of summer, Holt invited the entire group to spend the day on his yacht.

“It’s good.” I play it cool, not diving into the complexities of my relationship to London. “I think she’s adjusting to it fine. She’s already working on the first piece to hang at The Veiled Door.”

If my ties with Heath were too complicated to share with my friends, I won’t even bother going into it with London.

Asher nods. “I think it’s great you’re there for her after losing your brother. I’m sure it’s comforting for her to feel like she still has family on her husband’s side.”

I curl my lip, my stomach souring. “It’s strange. I never thought of London as my sister-in-law. Heath and I hadn’t talked for years, and even before that, we never got along.”

Asher nods again, and I can tell I’ve made the situation awkward again. Dammit .

“I was adopted.” I give in and share a slice of my past. “I didn’t meet Heath until we were fifteen, and he hated me from the start. We had a rocky relationship.”

“Trust me,” Asher says, his eyes softening. “I know what it’s like to have complicated family relationships. It’s why Charleigh and I will never move back to Connecticut.”

I nod, remembering how he told me about his rough beginning back in Connecticut. Our childhoods aren’t the same, but they are parallel.

Neither Holt nor I elaborate on Asher’s comment. Holt breaks the tension when he tosses out a plastic chip, laying down his bet on this first round. Asher flicks his eyebrows and begrudgingly matches his bet.

I do the same, then check my phone under the table for a text from London, smiling when I have a new one. She texted me earlier asking if I planned on joining the group today, and there was no way I was going to miss out on an opportunity to spend time with her outside of our work capacity.

London: I don’t think I’ve ever been on a boat before. Have a bucket ready, just in case.

I quickly type out a reply.

Me: Don’t worry. If there isn’t a bucket, you can lean over the railing. I’ll even hold your hair back for you.

The rolling three dots practically kill me before her response finally hits.

London: Such a gentleman.

I’m about to type out a response when Julianna emerges down the pier, followed by Selene, Charleigh, and London .

Julianna holds onto her large sun hat and looks up as she crosses the bridge, stepping onto the yacht. “All right, boys, the girls are all here! The party can officially begin.”

“Party already started an hour ago!” Holt shouts back, never looking up from his hand.

The four women make their way up the stairs to join us on the top deck.

Selene barely looks up at the group before spinning and spotting the table of snacks and champagne.

She makes herself a mimosa and downs half of it in one gulp.

Charleigh makes a beeline for Asher and slips into his lap. They’re quickly tied up in each other.

London gives me a closed-mouth smile, and she’s fucking breathtaking.

She sits in the cushioned bench along the outer edge of the deck and crosses her long legs, her black skirt splitting to reveal her smooth skin underneath.

The ties of the bathing suit she’s wearing peek out from under her loose knitted top.

Julianna stands behind Holt and glances around the table. “Well, this is exciting.”

“No one said you have to play,” Holt spouts back.

“Trust me, I’m not.” She snorts. “I’ve been waiting to take this baby out on the river ever since you bought it, and today is the perfect day for it. I plan on lying out in the sun the whole day.”

“Just make sure you don’t get burned,” Holt mutters. “Might ruin your day.”

“Trust me.” She taps her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “The only thing that could ruin my day is if I find myself staring at Rome Montgomery’s smug face.”

“Oh.” Holt lowers his cards into his lap and looks over his shoulder to Julianna. He gives her a mock wince. “Did you not want me to invite him? Shit.”

Julianna’s expression immediately shifts. Her eyebrows slant, and her cheeks redden. “Wha t ?” The ‘t’ at the end of her word ends with incredible sharpness.

“Yeah.” He shrugs and shakes his head. “He’s actually below deck changing right now.”

“What the fuck, Holt?” Her nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me?”

She looks at me and Asher for clarification, but we don’t give her any, even though we know Holt is just giving her shit. Rome isn’t here.