Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 43239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“Do you have time for a follow-up meeting this afternoon?” the man on the end asks.
“I’ll check my calendar,” I say, though my heart is trying to leap out of my chest.
As they shuffle out with nods and handshakes, I finally glance toward the back corner—where I catch the glint of a suit jacket slipping behind the glass wall.
Harrison was here. Watching.
But he didn’t come to my rescue, and I didn’t need him to…
TWENTY-NINE
HARRISON
The only reason I brought Eliza to my family’s hotel garden party was because I thought she’d enjoy being surrounded by nature—and I was willing to tuck in my disdain for my relatives for a few hours.
Unfortunately, I may have overestimated myself. I’m already at my limit and it hasn’t even been fifteen minutes.
“There’s my son!” my mom rushes over, motioning for a photo. “Come, come, smile.”
I force one, and she presses a kiss against my chest.
“Oh… Days like this make me miss your brother. Don’t they for you, too?”
“I need a drink,” I say. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll join you.”
Fuck.
She loops her arm in mine, smiling and stopping to greet everyone we pass.
When we reach the bar, she orders another gin and tonic. I get a whiskey.
“I’m glad we didn’t invite Kristin to this,” she whispers. “I was this close, but I didn’t know you’d upgraded.”
“Come again?”
“Your plus one.” She gestures toward Eliza, and I take in her outfit for what must be the millionth time. A short, fitted green Gucci dress hugs every curve, giving the perfect glimpse of her cleavage. The vintage Chanel bag on her shoulder has already sparked whispers, and those nude stilettos? They’d look even better wrapped around my waist.
“Is she from the Vanderbilt family?” my mother asks, leaning in. “I hear a hint of Southern in her voice.”
“I’d put my money on Biltmore,” my father says, joining us. “She comes off far more sophisticated. I’m glad you’re hard-launching her here, son.”
“I can’t believe you chose today of all days for this party.” I grit my teeth. “It’s like you two are the king and queen of being tone-deaf.”
“Harrison Jones…” My mother narrows her eyes. “I can’t help that our annual charity dinner fell on this date, just like I can’t control the weather.”
I walk away from both of them and glance at my watch.
Eliza is smiling, admiring a trellis of wisteria with a group of women, and I decide to calm down from afar instead of dragging her into my mood.
“So?” Sloan Beckham—an old business associate—sets down his glass. “You gonna spill the details?”
“Do I have a ‘come talk to me’ sign on my forehead?” I ask. “Tell me now because I’m confused.”
“You don’t, but I just want to know who your new friend is…” He nods toward Eliza. “You gonna introduce me or should I take my chances?”
“She’s off fucking limits.”
“Is her name off limits, too?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re into her?”
I don’t have to answer that.
He rolls his eyes and sets down his beer. Then, as if “off limits” meant nothing, he strolls over and extends his hand to her.
She blushes as she takes it, and he leans in—offering to show her around.
She’s just a client, Harrison. Just a client…
“Hey there, stranger.” A manicured hand glides across my chest, forcing me to spin around.
I keep my “hello” to myself the moment I see who it belongs to.
“Oh, it’s like that now?” Sarah Auderman—my brother’s former best friend—smiles. “We can’t be friends?”
“We can’t be anything.” I push her hand off. “Who the hell invited you here?”
“Your parents,” she huffs. “Unlike you, they’re trying to move on and make the best of things.”
“I need you to get the hell out of my way and never speak to me again.” I try to step past her, but she blocks me.
“Please talk to me,” she says. “I feel like I never got to explain my side.”
“I’ll do something even better.” I lean in. “I’ll walk away without telling everyone at this party that it should’ve been you who died instead of my brother that night.”
Her face pales. “I’ve told you I’m sorry—so many times—”
“Let me know when one of those ‘sorries’ brings him back.” I shrug. “Talk to me then.”
Unable to stomach another second of her, I weave through the crowd and out onto the balcony.
I grab two glasses off a tray and down them both before grabbing a third.
My phone buzzes. Jackson.
“Yeah, Jackson?”
“Good to hear from you, too.” He laughs. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Not at all.” I exhale. “What’s going on?”
“I need your advice on a proposition.”
“For free?”
“I’ll give you a penny an hour if you insist.”
I smile for the first time tonight. “I’m listening.”
“What do you expect from a six-star resort? Janey thinks she’s cracked the code, and I need a second opinion.”
“Does Eliza know you’re into her best friend?”
“Six-star resort, Harrison.” The denial in his tone says it all.