Page 11 of Filthy Rich Ex's Brothers

I blink and look up. Henry stands just outside the elevator door, arm outstretched, keeping it open for me. He looks at me like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

But thank god he doesn’t.

Any thoughts about Travis Oakley are just childish impulses, and I’m not here to fantasize about my boss. I’m here to do a job, so I make myself act like it.

“Thanks,” I say, breezily, trying to keep it together.

When we get off the elevator, the hallway smells like fresh paint and money, and there’s a bouquet of red roses sitting in the entryway.

I raise my camera and frame the shot.

The house is a crazy mixture of smells and sounds when I push open the front door.

“Ser-ena!” Lillie sings from the kitchen, and I smile. I like the fact that she knows it’s me without even looking. It makes the house feel like home again.

My entire body relaxing, I walk down the hallway and into the living area. Our kitchen is old and messy and never 100% clean. This house is nothing like the sleek, flat condos I capture for Onyx.

And nothing like the lifeless places Alex dragged me to tour.

Still, even after everything, I feel a tinge of grief for the relationship. Late nights watching Disney movies and eating too many M&Ms. Peanut for Alex, mini for me. It’s not like all of it was bad.

“She’s back!” Grayson calls, throwing his arms in the air liketouchdown!when I appear. He and Sid are sitting at the island, waiting for Lillie to finish whatever she’s cooking.

Georgie is behind them in the living room, sitting on the couch, her face buried in one of her textbooks. Her dark hair is pulled back in its signature ponytail, a look Sid calls thefuture doctor slick-back.

“I’m making lasagna just for you,” Lillie says, and I take in the mess of the kitchen: minced garlic cloves on the cutting board, bread sliced and on a baking sheet, tomato sauce splattered on the backsplash.

“It smells delicious.” I breathe in deeply, happy to be home. “Where’s Bianca?”

Lillie glances at Grayson, who glances at Sid, who looks at me and shrugs, “Out, I guess.”

“She hasn’t been around a lot lately,” Lillie says quietly. When she opens the oven, it lets out a puff of hot, garlicky air as she slides in more bread. “Not sure why—maybe stuff with her grandpa?”

Bianca comes from old money with conservative traditions. She’s always struggled to earn her grandfather's affection, who maintains that unless she’s married and making babies, her contributions to the family legacy don’t matter.

I’d always assumed she was living with me after college because of our friendship—that she would take the cheaper rent for a little more fun—but maybe there’s something more. I make a note to talk to her about it.

“How was the shoot?” Georgie asks from the couch, glancing up briefly with flash cards balanced on her thigh. Of course, she remembers what I was off to do today. Georgie remembers everything.

I hesitate, then tell them all about barging into Oakley’s office. Lillie squeals, Grayson covers his face with his hand, and Georgie shakes her head at me.

“It all worked out,” I shrug.

“There’s more good news,” Sid says, standing up from the barstool and stretching so his shirt rides up, exposing some of the tattoos on his pale stomach. When he finishes his stretch, he reveals the good news. “Your stuff is mostly dry.”

On the far end of the room, we set up two folding tables, over which we spread my rain-damaged things last night. A fan whirs steadily beside it, oscillating and clicking as it sends a current of air over everything. Sid painstakingly took a hair dryer to each of the vintage record sleeves.

“Thank you,” I say again. Apparently, I said it too much yesterday, because they all got annoyed with me.

“You’re acting like we wouldn’t fight a dragon for you,” Grayson had said, waving a bedazzled folding fan at me, “Drying out some books is no big deal.”

Now, I cross the room to the tables, fingers reaching for the record player at the very end. When I glance at Sid, he winces and shakes his head. At first, he’d assured me that his one-year stint at an electronics store made him qualified to resuscitate it.

“Sorry, but this thing is less electronic than I thought. Must have belonged to a great-grandma first? It’s more mechanical. I can’t figure out what’s wrong with it.” Sid reaches out and touches the brass horn sadly, and I bottle up the disappointment that rises inside me.

Alex wasn’t a fan of the way it sounded, so I hardly used it when we lived together. And now I’ll never use it again.

“I might be able to find someone interested in it just for decor,” Lillie says, pointing a spatula at me from behind the counter. “We could talk to the people at that one antique?—”