Then he says, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Good effort, Aiden. Remind me never to let you near actual client money. You clearly don’t have the instincts for finance. Some people just aren’t wired for it.”
He looks right at Huxley. “You, though—you’ve got a sharper head. Why the heck are you hanging out with my son?”
Everyone laughs. Everyone except Huxley. He doesn’t say anything at the time, but later he tells me, “That man’s poison. You don’t need his approval. You need distance.”
“The men in my family certainly have a penchant for cheating on their wives,” I remark with a high degree of self-loathing.
He regards me thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time you find out who you are without your family. And who knows, if you’re lucky, Mia will like who that man turns out to be."
CHAPTER 13
Mia
It’s New Year’s Eve, and for the first time in years, I’m not pretending to enjoy myself at a party where everyone talks money, mergers, and whose skin looks the best after the latest laser facial or whose tits look like they had work done.
There’s no couture dress hugging my body or designer heels punishing my feet. I’m in leggings, fuzzy socks, and an oversized hoodie, on the couch at Katya’s place, sipping damn decent champagne with two people I’m incredibly fond of.
Cristiano brought pizza. Two kinds. Indulgent.
Katya baked a cake that collapsed in the middle, but it tastes like heaven.
Cristiano grins at me over a slice of pepperoni. “How are you feeling now?”
He saw me at my worst at the farmhouse where I stayed for six nights, most of them crying and watching terrible television. Cristiano wiped my tears, poured meendless glasses of wine and water, cooked for me, and let me sleep.
We’re two wounded people giving each other comfort. I’ve never had a close friend who is a man before, and I have to say, Billy Crystal is wrong inHarry Met Sallywhen he says a man and a woman cannot be friends because there will always be that sex thing.
Cristiano is handsome and easygoing, even if he’s quite somber—but I am not attracted to him. In any case, I don’t need a lover right now, I need companionship with someone who will help me get through what is turning out to be one of the most devastating events of my life, bar when my parents passed away.
“I’m not sure how I’m feeling,” I tell him honestly.
Katya came back the day before, so Cristiano brought me to her place. When I suggested that he spend New Year’s Eve with us, he was game. Since his fiancée passed, he hasn’t been much for the holidays—but pizza with wine sounded promising to him.
“She’s feeling like shit,” Katya interjects.
Cristiano nods and then smiles at me. “It’ll hurt less as time passes.”
“I hope so, because I feel like a walking wound.”
Katya wraps an arm around me. I lean into her, resting my head on her shoulder.
“Why does this hurt so much?” I whimper.
She kisses my forehead. “Because you love him.”
We both look at Cristiano, and he shrugs. “Love doesn’t die, even if the person does—or the relationship, in your case.”
“That’s not helping her,” Katya rebukes.
He gives us a laconic smile. “Just telling the truth, babe.”
I sniffle and straighten. “But we have to move on…keep on living our best lives.”
Katya snorts. “That sounds like a self-help meme.” She gives me a mischievous wink. “The last time we did this, drinking and crying over a man, it was me breaking my heart over Ethan Peck.”
Cristiano frowns. “When was this?”
“Sophomore year of college.” I chuckle, remembering. “He broke her heart.”
