Page 96 of The Worst Best Man

“Mid-life crisis?”

“If you can have one at sixty-five. There’s a girlfriend.”

“Of course there is. Let me guess, a dancer? No, wait, not classy enough. Oh! A museum docent?”

“An athletic apparel designer.”

“Nice! You finally have an in for all the sports bras you’ve been wanting.”

Aiden’s lips curved. “I wish you were here.” The words were out in the world before he could stop them.

She sighed into the phone. “Maybe sometime. But for now, I wish you were here in this big bed with me.”

Just imagining her stretched out, her wild hair fanning out in all directions, stirred him.

“So, what does this mean for you? You’re COO—I Googled you—what happens next?”

“I make the move to CEO, take on more responsibility, including the care and maintenance of one Elliot Kilbourn.”

“You’re shitting me. That man-child is an epic asshole. Why would your father let him within five-hundred yards of the company?”

“He’s blinded by Alice the sports bra designer.”

“Funny. So your dad is dumping all his responsibilities on you so he can what? Retire on a topless beach in Boca?”

“Sail down the Intercoastal Waterway and spend the summer in the Bahamas.”

“Is he going to change his mind?” Frankie asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so. He wants me to carry on in the business and family.”

“Oh,” she said flatly. “You mean find a nice billionaire debutante and create perfect male heirs.”

It was amazing just how much Frankie understood about the inner workings, the expectations of his life.

“Something like that.”

“Did you buy me a bed to break up with me?”

Aiden laughed, and the sound echoed around the quiet room. “I bought you a bed to fuck you on without dumping us on the floor.”

“I’m not mistress material, Aide.”

“No, you’re not. My father also wants me to groom Elliot for a VP position. Something respectable.”

“Eeesh. Sounds like your dad’s asking for a unicorn for Christmas. Never gonna happen.”

It was simple for her. When presented with a decision, if it wasn’t satisfactory, turn it down, move on. But his life was so much more complicated than that. Where was the gratitude for everything the previous generations had built that he now enjoyed? Shouldn’t he be happy to sacrifice for that legacy as his father had?

“So, you’re not out shopping for a wife right now?” Frankie asked.

“They don’t exactly have stores for that,” he said dryly.

“Oh, I don’t know. Everything can be bought for a price.”

“What’s your price, Franchesca?”

“Hmm. I guess it depends on the currency.”