Page 128 of Late Harvest

His heart stalled for a moment, a pang of guilt lancing through him. He remembered her early comment to him that ‘no one called her Arabella.’ And he’d cavalierly insisted on using it. Making it about him and his conquest of her. Not even caring to ask why.

I am a massive, thoughtless, impulsive asshole.

“Jesus, Arab—Remy—” He halted, not knowing what to call her.

She gave him a sad smile. “I like it when you call me Arabella. It reminds me of them. It’s part of why I was so comfortable with you, despite all my misgivings and apprehensions about us and the arrangement at the root of our relationship. I know Etta and Tasha would’ve adored you. And every time you call me Arabella, you give me a little gift. A little piece of them I lost a long time ago.”

Now Bash wept, tucking his face into her neck. “I love you, Arabella Remington.” His words were muffled against her neck, but he knew she’d heard him.

“I love you, Sebastian Wheatley. You’re my funny clown who brings sunshine to my dreary life. My prince consort. My liege man of life and limb.”

Bash gave her a watery smile.

“You’re my mate, Sebastian. Mine.”

Chapter Sixty-Seven

You are strong. You are grounded. You are fucking powerful.

Now dry your fucking eyes and get back at it.

—From Remy’s Badass Bitch Affirmations

Remy

Lila wrapped Remy in a hug. “I’ve always admired you, Doc. One of the most impressive, accomplished women I’ve ever met. Now, that’s grown exponentially. I’m so proud to call you ‘friend.’”

“Thank you, Lila. That means…more than I can say.”

“I realize no one can take Etta’s place, but just know you have a true friend in me. For life.”

Remy allowed Lila to tuck her into another fierce hug, inhaling the soothing scent of Lila’s shampoo. Green apples and maybe coconut? It was fresh and perky and so very Lila.

Look at me, Etta—making friends. And falling in love.

After Remy’s big reveal, Honor went into the primary bedroom to nurse Jude. Sebastian—with Remy’s assent—disappeared into what used to be Brinder’s guest room to discuss public relations strategy with Melody and Slash. Remy couldn’t bear to discuss it for one more second, trusting Sebastian to represent her with integrity. Which she knew, beyond a doubt, he would.

Reporters on the hunt for a salacious story had managed to connect Arabella Remington to Arabella Torres. From there, it was an easy trail to follow, leading to Etta’s murder and the standoff with the SWAT team sent to rescue Remy, which ultimately led to Doug’s death.

It was an ugly story and the media vultures were salivating over the carrion of the tragedy. The underbelly of the Internet had exploded in speculation and lies, no one seemingly interested in the truth and in the fact that actual people—whose lives were devastated and snuffed—were at the heart of the story.

Nell and Gen gathered her in their arms, murmuring words of friendship and support. Benny Tambeaux, who’d remained in the condo to prepare to-go plates from the food she’d ordered, surprised Remy with another hug.

“It’s not weird at all to be hugging the supermodel whose DVD of makeup tips was Etta Remington’s go-to source for nights out.” Remy grinned, still acclimating herself to the reality that the man she loved was famous, his sister was equally famous, and his sister’s agent was as well.

“Hashtag mind blown,” Lila chimed in. “So you’re living in this building now?”

Benny nodded carefully, her face neutral. “My son is an incoming freshman at Boston University. He was recruited to play hockey. We’ve lived in London for almost twenty years, but my—” she halted, clearly struggling with word choice. “My son’s father and I are no longer married. I decided I didn’t want to be an ocean away from Rasmus, but that he also didn’t need his mother hovering over him in the same town. Brinder mentioned his building. I just moved in a couple weeks ago. I was going to buy his place, but it turns out, it’s about to be occupied.” Her gaze darted to Grayton, who was back on his phone and speaking in a low, urgent voice. “We’ll see. My lease is just for six months.”

“You know what I’m thinking?” Gen turned to Nell, a slow smile spreading on her face.

“I believe I’m reading your thought bubble, Geneva Fox-Reyes,” Nell replied, gently wringing her hands. “But I don’t think we should impose.”

“And I think we should at least offer,” Gen replied, eyebrows high.

“Then we’re putting her on the spot. She’ll feel she has to accept just to be polite.” Nell cast a worried glance at Benny.

Lila raised her hand. “Um, hi. Lila Somerville. Longtime listener, first time caller. For the rest of us who don’t seem to have developed mind-reading skills or have your bestie-ESP—ha! BestiESP—does someone want to fill us in?”