Archer made a face. I had always been curious about the Svenssons. They seemed so mysterious behind the gates of their estate. I saw the younger ones when I took Minnie and Rose to school, but being around Archer had been the most I interacted with the family of billionaires.
"Mace sort of does. It's just hard. I don't think any of us are really disciplined enough to essentially cater three meals a day every day."
"You manage to have successful businesses," I countered.
"Yes, but that's business. It's almost in some ways easier than family. You put in the work, and money and power and respect come out. With the kids, you put in work, and it seems like you are always falling behind."
"I'm sure they like having you around," I said. "Also, you wouldn't have to cook every day. There are lots of Svensson brothers. You guys could rotate."
Archer grimaced. "Very few of us actually stay at the estate for any extended amount of time."
"You just leave your little brothers alone?" I asked. Archer scowled.
"Hey, I'm not judging. My little sisters are alone with Meg and Uncle Barry. I should probably do more," I said with a guilty shrug.
Archer nodded. "Our childhood was rough. We lived in an old trailer home. There was never any room; we had nothing. Then you leave the compound, and it's like, there's this whole wide world out there with flowers and cupcakes and cars and money and nice clothes and swimming pools, and the last thing you want to do is stay cooped up in a house with two dozen rowdy kids who remind you too much of your terrible childhood."
"Your older brother Hunter does it."
Archer grimaced. "Hunter sacrificed everything. He's been stuck here for years. He's never done anything for himself. I bet he thought that he was just going to take care of my generation and then he would be done. But the kids kept showing up once my father figured out that he could pawn them off on Hunter." He shook his head and took a long drink. "Mace helps. I should do more, I know. I try not to think about it. It's a lot of bad memories."
"Sorry," I said. "My sisters and I also were left high and dry when my parents died."
"But your great-uncle's the mayor," Archer said.
I didn't know if I wanted to go into how difficult it was with Uncle Barry. "It's complicated."
"Yeah, complicated," Archer said and snorted. "Manhattan is easy—make money. Annoy Greg. Be the billionaire. Here you'd think a small town would be simple, but really it's just free of distractions and forces you to confront who you really are. I'm not sure if I like him all that much." Archer looked down at his drink.
"I like you," I said, resting my hand softly on his.
"You do?" He grinned. There was that jump in my chest. "I guess you would have to if you're painting that lovingly detailed picture of me."
I blushed.
"I like you too, Hazel," he said, leveling his gaze at me. He took another sip of the drink.
"I didn't think you liked me, because you were being mean to me," I admitted.
"No," he said. "I'm just an idiot." Archer leaned toward me slightly. My eyes traveled down the flash of exposed skin. The way he was leaning over the bar, I could see the outline of one of his pecs through his shirt.
"My eyes are up here, Hazel," Archer said wryly.
My eyes met his, and my chest clenched. I thought maybe he would lean over to kiss me. I wanted him to. Instead I broke the tension. "But I wanted to look at your paintbrush!"
18
Archer
Ihad been more honest with Hazel than I had with anyone else. I was a little worried it would be weird between us. McKenna certainly hadn't liked it when I acted like anything other than the aloof billionaire. But Hazel smiled up at me and squeezed my arm when she saw me at the art retreat the next afternoon, like I was the highlight of her week.
"I saved you a sandwich," she said and pressed a brown paper package into my hand. It was such a thoughtful, sweet gesture. I ate it while Otis and Theo excitedly set up their paints and canvases.
"I need to go to the site soon," Hazel said to me.
I nodded, my mouth full of sandwich. "We can go over whenever you want," I said after I swallowed.
"I have to get ready for the art fair first." She chewed on her lip. I wanted to press my mouth to hers.
