I love them.
I love talking about them.
Not every minute of every day, but they are my life. And pretending they shouldn’t take up space, pretending they don’t deserve some of the spotlight, is just wrong.
I glance over to see Travis yawning, stretching like he’s about to fold in half. I’ve kept the poor guy out all day. “I gotta run, Pix.”
“Me, too,” she says. “I think I smell something burning in your kitchen.”
“What?”
“Kidding.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “I should let you go.”
“Yeah…”
Neither of us hangs up.
The call lingers, filled with nothing but soft breaths and the quiet pull of something between us.
Then I hear them. My boys, arguing somewhere in the background, their voices carrying.
“Ava said I could clean the fridge.”
I blink. What on earth? Was that Ollie?
“No, she said I could do it,” Connor insists. “Ava, didn’t you say me?” he hollers loudly.
“Pix,” I say quietly, equal parts amused and alarmed, “I don’t know what kind of unholy spell you’ve put my children under, but never, ever stop.”
“Ava!” my kids shout in unison.
“That’s my cue,” Pix says, laughing through her words. “See you later, Lumberjack.”
“See you later, Pix.”
I hang up and head to the car. “Where to, Boss?” Travis asks.
“The Barrington.”
CHAPTER 26
Harrison
I arrive at New York’s most photographed hotel with a knot already tightening in my gut.
The building hums with the low-grade electricity of a perpetual after-party. No perimeter defense. No crowd control to speak of.
Just money, ego, and the delusion that a three-tiered fountain in the right lighting makes anyone look good. Valets jog instead of walk and, as always, no security in sight.
Across the street, two rows of lower-tier paparazzi have staked their claim, living on dreams and caffeine.
The promise of someone else’s downfall is just a camera click away.
One that will end up on Page Six by morning.
My hand closes around the door handle. I’ll be damned if Pix is staying here.
The car barely slows before I’m out. Between the celebrities and the staff, I’m the odd man out. Clearly underdressed.
