When the doors open, everything is familiar but still feels foreign. People glance up, and a few heads turn curiously. I recognize the look. They know who I am and what I’m here for.
I walk straight toward the front desk. “Good morning. I have a meeting with Charles Montclair.”
Her eyes flick down to her screen, then back at me. Something shifts in her expression. It’s respect. Interesting. “He’s expecting you.”
Good. This is a good sign.
The dark-wood double doors to his office are heavy, their polished handles shiny. I knock once and enter when I hear him call out. He stands before his floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan. To some, he may seem intimidating, but to me, he’s not. No matter how much he tries to be. He’s staring out at the city as if he owns it, which I suppose he kind of does.
He turns slowly and takes me in from head to toe. He nods his head approvingly. “You clean up well.”
I don’t respond to that, because I feel like it’s a test. Of whether he can get a rise out of me or not. I’ve had practice with people. While he was making deals, I was behind a bar for the past five years studying people like him. Seeing how they interact, how they tick, and I’ve got Charles Montclair’s number. There’s just one problem. He doesn’t have mine. He has no idea about me. None.
“I’ve had practice.”
He gives me a confused look and gestures to the chair across from his desk. “Sit.”
I don’t. Because I’m not a fucking dog. Or a cat.
“I won’t take up too much of your time,” I say. “I’m here to get my wife.”
The words hit, and he’s silent. His eyes narrow and his jaw tightens.
“I thought we were past this. You were staying in Coconut Beach and playing your part. Silently.”
“With all due respect, Charles,” I say evenly. “Enough. Drop the bullshit.”
Silence stretches between us.
“I’m here because I want things to go differently this time,” I continue. “I want a real wedding with family. I want Silvie to be surrounded by people who love her. Not whatever bullshit circus you had that first time.”
He studies me, his eyes still narrowed.
“She’s my wife. And I love her. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He blinks and looks like he’s not sure what to say. “You weren’t supposed to be real. You’re a bartender in Coconut Beach. She has a real opportunity here to change her legacy.”
I step closer to him, not aggressive, but firm.“I am a part of that legacy. She is my family.”
“What do you want? Is it money?” he asks in an even tone.
“I don’t think you are understanding. See, where you come from, it’s all about money. For me...it’s about family. Big, loud, happy family. People who show up, even when it’s hard to show up. They love each other and would do anything for each other. That’s my currency.”
A look of surprise crosses his face. He’s thinking.
“You don’t know me. You think I don’t fit in your world. And that’s fine. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I do. But I’m here anyway.”
His gaze flickers at that, and he continues to listen.
“Family is everything to me, Charles. I grew up with a mother who loved me and encouraged me to have anything I wanted in life. She told me I could be and do whatever I wanted. She only just wanted me to be healthy and happy. So, I had a good role model. Silvie didn’t have that for a mother. And she should have.”
He sighs and looks away.
“Things are going to be different from here on out,” I say. “My wife will have her village that supports and encourages her.”
His eyebrows furl together.
“And she needs you to be a part of her village,” I continue. “She’s been working for this her whole life and she loves it. And she should have it. With all of us having her back and encouraging her.”
