Maybe I should just move back to the Midwest, I told myself.I clearly can't handle myself alone in New York.
I scrolled through the thousands of messages people had sent me, needing the boost to my self-confidence. There were declarations of love—and declarations of other things. I closed the app.
"Stop taking the easy way out," I said to myself. "There are other restaurants. You'll find something."
But would I? I felt sick. I was locked into this Airbnb for the next few days, I didn't have any more money, and I had no job lined up.
The sad reality was that I just wanted Jack. I knew I was safe with him. But Jack had his own problems. He didn't need mine.
As I was tucking my phone back into my purse, a Santa jumped out at me. I screamed.
"Chloe," he said. It was my cousin. He seemed as if he needed drugs immediately. I remembered the look from my mother. His friend Kevin wasn't with him at least.
"I need help," Cody pleaded. "Chloe, you have to help me. I need money. Just a little bit. I'll do anything."
"I don't have any money," I yelled. "I am flat broke. You need to leave me alone."
"You may not have money, but I know who does," Cody said as someone put a bag over my head. I screamed as I felt myself being dragged into a car. A door slammed, and we drove away.
64
Jack
Icouldn't believe Hartleigh was still hanging around. Why did she have to be here and yet Chloe wasn't?
My phone rang, and my heart jumped, thinking it was Chloe.
"She doesn't have your number," I told myself as I answered the phone.
"Who are you talking to?" said the voice on the other end of the call. It was Owen.
"Uh, no one."
"I see. Are you actually having a Christmas party?" my brother asked.
I slapped a palm to my forehead. I had completely forgotten. That was why Chloe wanted the decorations. Why had I been so awful to her? She was only trying to help.
"Are you still there? Are you even listening?" Owen snapped.
"Yes, yes," I said. "There's a Christmas Eve party, I think."
"Are Matt and Oliver coming back from Harvard today?"
"I guess."
"You don't seem to know what's going on," Owen remarked.
"I'm very busy. I am a billionaire. I'm running a company. And I am trying to keep a multimillion-dollar real estate deal from imploding!" I yelled into the phone.
Owen snorted and hung up. The phone rang again.
"What is it?" I snapped.
"I hope that’s not how you answer the phone for potential tenants," Greg Svensson said in a clipped tone. "No wonder Frost Tower isn't making any money."
I sighed. "Can I help you, Greg?"
"Has Chloe confirmed that she will be running the restaurant? We need her in that space as soon as possible. Carl has had interest from several tenants who seem intrigued about your baker running her own restaurant. Apparently my brother's bake-off show has been farther reaching than previously anticipated."
