I pulled into the No Standing zone on the side of my building and shut off the engine. “Give me one good reason why not.”
“I’ll give you more than one. I have my own place. All my things are there. I don’t want to. That’s three. How’s that?”
“Not good enough. Who’s going to be there if you fall? What if you need help or start feeling sick?” I shifted in my seat to face him, though he refused to meet my eyes. “Come on, Brenner. It’s what a friend would do.”
“Since when are we friends?” He met my eyes.
“Someone has to take the first step.” I smirked. “Or hop, seeing as you’re on crutches.” He remained steadfast, and though this idea had popped into my head only as we’d entered the city, it made perfect sense. “For the third, fourth or tenth time, enough already with the bullshit of law school. Trust me when I say I’m not that guy anymore. And neither are you.”
“I don’t know why you say that. I’m not different, aside from a couple of gray hairs here and there.”
“Sure you are. You’ve just got to let yourself accept that you’re a success. I know how you feel.”
At that, Brenner choked out a laugh. “Ow, my ribs. I can’t believe you said something like that.”
“What?” I was at a loss.
“You know how I feel.You.Weston fucking Lively, whose father is a US senator and running for president, knows how I feel—a foster kid who bounced around the system, who doesn’t know who his mother was, and who lived in a tiny two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.” His eyes crinkled shut. “You live on goddamn Park Avenue. I bet my parents’ whole apartment is smaller than one of your bedrooms.”
I worked my jaw. “I’m not apologizing for having money. I donate to charities and help where I can. Am I lucky? Fuck, yeah. Did I shove it in people’s faces when I was younger? Also yes, but I don’t anymore. Let me prove it to you. Come upstairs with me and stay until you feel better.” At Brenner’s skepticism, I rolled my eyes. “It’s not forever. I’m not asking you to move in. I don’t need a roommate.”
“I’m sure you don’t. But like I said. I have all my things at my apartment—my clothes, my work stuff…”
Seeing he was running out of excuses, I jumped. “We can go pick up what you’ll need. I doubt you’ll need to stay more than a week.”
His brows raised. “A week? I was thinking a couple of days, max.”
“Start with that and see how it goes.”
“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” At my wide grin, Brenner scowled. “It’s only because you have me trapped here that I’m agreeing to this. Plus, we’ll probably end up not speaking to each other again. It’s not as if we have anything in common.”
Chapter Thirteen
Brenner
“Yes, Christine, I’m fine. I’m going for a checkup in a few days.” I had my phone to my ear as I opened the file of a new case.
My friend Christine, socialite, cosmetic mogul, married to successful restaurateur Tony Gigante, and self-appointed matchmaker had been horrified to hear what had happened to me. We’d met when my old firm had bought a table at her yearly benefit to support research for blood cancer. Her mother had passed away from the same disease as Pearl, and we’d bonded over our devastating losses.
“Sweetheart, they’re paying for everything, I hope? It happened on their watch. You could get workers’ comp and stay home to rest.”
Wouldn’t that look great? Only a month into my partnership, and I’d be after them for compensation and how to stay home and not work. It had been a week, and while my head was back to normal, my ribs and ankle still gave me trouble. Much as I wanted to dispute Weston’s claim, I begrudgingly admitted it had been a hell of a lot easier staying with him.
“Not my thing. I’m doing better. Honest. How’re you and Tony? And the little one?”
“We’re great. Better than. Tony’s stepping away a little to spend more time with us—we bought a place in Tuscany we’re going to be at for several months a year in the summer. You should think of joining us.” Laughter bubbled in my ear. “Lots of beautiful women to meet.”
“I’ll keep that in mind whenever I get the time. Being a new partner, the last thing I want is to ask for time off.”
“How are you managing at home? Isn’t it painful? Tony once got a broken rib in a football game with his brothers, and he could barely move. You have four bruised ones, plus everything else. Do you need me to get you some help?”
When it came to organization, Christine was a superstar, and I knew she was itching to do something for me. I shifted in my seat. “It’s hard getting comfortable,” I admitted. “But I’m, uh, staying with someone, and they’ve been helpful.” I braced myself for the inquisition because I knew Christine would jump on my words. She did not disappoint.
“Someone? Who? A new girlfriend? Darling, have you kept me out of the loop? Naughty boy. Who is she?”
Even though it hurt to laugh, I chuckled. “No, it’s nothing like that. A work colleague. He and I know each other from law school, and he offered to let me stay with him while I recuperate.”
True to his word, Weston had helped me recuperate. I thought he’d be out most nights, but he’d stayed at home and ordered us dinner. It had been…nice.
