This is why when Zenith approached me, the promise of not living under my father’s thumb appealed to me so much. I might be swapping one overlord for another, but I figured the new one couldn’t be half as demeaning or ruthless.
Kellin seemed to care about my management style. I felt seen by him. If we fall through romantically, I’ll survive. I was fine on my own before we ever met. I’ll keep on keeping on.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
I want the Cypress to thrive, and I don’t know how much longer I can succeed with Port Kings henchmen lurking around every corner like the undead.
I freaked him out by asking about long-distance relationships too soon. Everything started to unravel after that.
If so, that sucks, but what can I do? In new relationships, one person often catches feelings quicker than the other. If we can even label what we have as a relationship.
But I refuse to believe he’s setting me up. I’ve been going up to the penthouse—it’s true—and maybe he’s seen me running errands for my father and brothers.
Perhaps he does possess a little jealous streak. A possessive side. That, I can manage.
I’m curious about his past, his present, how he feels about me. He’s the most self-assured man I’ve ever met, but he’s still flesh and blood just like me. He has a functioning heart.
I can tell from the way he looks at me sometimes and says my name.
Boy, time sure flies when you’re all bent out of shape over a guy.I pull up the drive to my father’s humble abode, a five-thousand square foot Spanish Colonial Revival in the Palisades, far sooner than I wanted to.
Headlights flash in my rearview, and then Brody sidles up beside me.
I get out and beeline for him. “Could you not interrogate my staff while they’re working?”
“Well, hello to you, too, sis. I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
I race him up the semicircle terracotta steps to the bulky wooden double doors. “I’m just saying.”
“And I’m just saying, I can’t find Shout. The guy that hurt you. I have to track him down?—”
“So you can hurt him? If he’s gone, you should just leave well enough alone. Besides, I’ve already seen his replacement skulking around.”
Normally, I’d be all for Brody teaching a sexual predator a lesson, but I’m pretty sure Kellin already did that with his fists when he saved me.
“We haven’t hired a new guy yet.” Brody reaches me as I open the front door. “You probably just don’t know them all. This is why I keep telling you that you should attend some of the meetings.”
My ponytail swats at my ears as I shake my head. “Hard pass.”
“The last guy we hired is big and bald with a tat on his neck and a scar on his chin. Was that who you saw?”
Didn’t we just have this conversation?
I ignore him because I hear multiple male voices drowning each other out. Then my stepmother’s as she asks if she can get anyone a refill. We never grew close—Sophia and my father married long after I moved out—but she’s one hell of a cook. And I’m starving.
Connor rounds the corner with a “Maeve” and embraces me with all the warmth of an IRS agent.
He drops his arms and “bro nods” at Brody.
Unfortunately, Brody’s not done harassing me. “Maeve, I really think?—”
“Brody, please shut up.” I motion for him to quiet down so I can understand what I’m hearing. I thought Sophia mentioned another whiskey.
My dad doesn’t drink whiskey. He eschews the traditional Irish beverage in some boneheaded protest over our family’s banishment to the West Coast.
A familiar, gravel-wrapped-in-velvet voice separates from the rest, carries over the familiar drone of my family, and causes my heart to gallop.
I hurry around the corner, my heels clacking on the expensive terracotta tile that covers every bit of the first floor.
