"I've been with Isadora for three years, Smith."
That's the best answer-non-answer I've heard in weeks. I met Isadora once. From what I remember she's tougher than a two dollar steak. The woman is all business, all the time. It's paid off for her in spades, professionally.
"How is she?" I ask before I signal to the server that I want another drink. If Julian's about to wax poetic on the woman of his dreams, I need to settle in for the long haul.
Fuck sleep. I can survive on a couple of hours if need be.
"Fine." His gaze lands just over my shoulder.
What is thisfineshit? The last time I asked about his beloved I was treated to a thirty minute sermon on the virtues of Isadora Patel.
"What's going on with you two? I thought you'd be married by now." Twisting my head to check on Maya Baker, I catch her giving Everett a chaste kiss on the cheek.
"Don't you need to get up early to be on the air, Smith?"
If I was a bigger dick than I am, I'd point out that fair maiden Maya is likely going to spread out in her birthday suit on a bed later tonight as Everett's dessert. I tone it down because Julianand I go way back. That reminds me why I invited him here in the first place.
"I have time," I say flatly. "How are your parents? I haven't seen them in years."
What can I say? I'm sensitive. I'm also smart enough to know that interrogating him about his younger sister right out of the gate will raise red flags. I'll ease into my questions about Brynn.
"Good. Busy." He looks down at his trillion dollar watch. Thousand dollar maybe, but still it makes mine look like a dollar store discounted special. "Yours?"
I have no fucking clue. Since my parents retired, they've been on a non-stop party-until-we-drop world tour. The last I heard they were in Australia, learning how to surf. "They're living the good life."
"They deserve it." He finally tears his eyes away from Maya again to look at me. "I'm proud of you, Smith. You took that college radio gig and turned it into a career."
I did. A few lucky breaks along the way didn't hurt. A year and a half as a midday news anchor in Buffalo turned into four years as the co-host of an entertainment show in Los Angeles. I've spent the last two years as the six o'clock anchor on a cable news network. My current job is the dream for me.
"I appreciate that, Julian." I pick up the glass of whiskey the server just brought me. "I don't have to say how impressed I am by what you've done with the hotels. I can't turn a corner without seeing a Bishop property."
"Expansion is my goal." He mirrors my movement with his glass and takes a drink. "The hotel chain has been in the family for years. I took it nationwide. The next step is to go international."
I see an opportunity so I take it. "I remember your mom being part of the business? Did your sister sign up too?"
"Jane's moved on to other endeavors." He smiles when he mentions his mom. "Brynn was on board right after she graduated. She quit last year to start her own interior design firm."
"Interior design?" Why the fuck didn't I find a trace of that online? I searched Brynn Bishop in two different browsers, three different times, after my scavenger hunt of her social media profiles turned up nothing. The only explanation is that she's using her married name now. Fuck if I can remember the name of the guy she was head over heels for.
"She has an eye for it, not to mention a master's degree." His gaze drifts back over my shoulder in Maya's direction. "The company is Brynn Janie Interiors."
"Brynn Janie," I repeat back. Janie's her middle name.
"She's determined to make it on her own. She thinks the Bishop name will give her a leg up. She's right but she's bull headed. She wants to prove she's got the talent to succeed."
It's impressive. Bishop is a name that commands respect in this city. To willingly toss it to the side is admirable.
"I could use some help in that area." It's not a lie. I've got a shit eye for design. I can't pair a shirt and pants together most of the time. The jeans and blue button up shirt I'm wearing right now are a testament to that. I stick to the basics when it comes to what I think looks good. Trying to decorate an entire home is a joke for me. "Maybe I'll give her a call."
"I'll text you her number." He picks up his phone from the table. "I can't say if she'll remember you. It's been years since you've seen her."
Wrong. I saw her yesterday and I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since.
I ignore the comment. Self-torture isn't my thing but I can't resist. I need to know she's happy. "How was her wedding? It was in the Hamptons last summer, right?"
He tosses back the rest of his scotch. "Brynn called it off the day before. It was the best decision she's ever made. I couldn't stand the prick she was engaged to."
Best decision indeed.
