“Dude, I know. Did you hear about the violinist who cheated on his girlfriend with his ex?”
I sit up. “No fucking way. She hasn’t mentioned Percy lately. Poor Bessie.”
“Poor Bessie is right. She also told me that when they got to Prague, Bessie was drunk off her ass and yelled at Percy in front of everyone.”
“That sounds like a mess.”
We stay silent for a moment. “Lainey has officially turned us into gossipers.”
Laughing, I nod in agreement with him. “Yeah, but at least she has a good social life,” I point out again at the lack of his.
He sucks in a breath. “And how is yours going, exactly?”
I grunt. “Touché.”
Wes chuckles. “Seriously, though. I’m excited to see you guys on Thanksgiving. It’s been too long since the three of us have been together.”
“Same here.” My brother lets out a long sigh, and I can tell what it means. “You gotta go?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Sorry, G. I’ll shoot you a text later.”
“All right. Let me know if you hear anything new about Percy.”
He snorts. “Will do.”
Wes hangs up, and I exhale, feeling unsatisfied with our short conversation. Wesley is doing well for himself, but his health worries me. The guy is all work and no play, like I used to be, but he also seems to enjoy it the way I used to enjoy being a full-time chef.
“Okay, my first question is, who are Percy and Bessie, and what’s their deal?” Emma asks from my side. I shake my head and laugh.
“Eavesdrop much?”
She shrugs. “Sorry. I finished, like, three minutes ago and didn’t want to interrupt.”
“It’s fine.” I motion for her to sit across from me.
She walks and sets her notebook down as she unties her hair from its bun. It falls, and she runs her fingers through it while letting out a quiet sigh.
My eyes track her every move, and I start to get hard at the sounds she’s making and the way her head is tilted back with her mouth partially open.
I shift uncomfortably and try to ignore what’s happening down south of my body.
Her eyes open as if she realizes what she’s doing.
“So, you’re a Brighton?” I ask, trying to distract myself.
Emma clears her throat. “Yes, on my father’s side.”
Nodding, I try to recall what I know about the family. They’re filthy rich, but that’s common knowledge. I think it’s mostly based on real estate, if memory serves. “Are you not interested in taking over the family business?”
She lets out a quick laugh. “Oh God, no. Neither industry interests me. That’s up to my older cousins who’ve already started working with both companies.”
“And your family didn’t pressure you?”
Emma shakes her head. “Is this my interview or yours?”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m being inappropriate.” I cringe at myself.
She rolls her eyes. “No, they didn’t pressure me,” she continues, surprising me. “My grandparents tried for years but gave up once they saw that I am just as stubborn as my mother is. Although they still insist on me marrying somebody with money.”That’s not where I thought this was going.“However, my parents just want me to be happy and don’t care who I’m with orwhat career path I choose. They expect me to work hard to get what I want. That’s another reason I use Haywood rather than Brighton. I want to earn my place and not let people think I got up the ranks by using my family’s connections.”
