Okay, he thought he’d work from home.
Until his normally comfortable warehouse began crushing him like a trash compactor. Mostly because Isa had left without a goodbye after their argument. The air at home was stale—heavy with the weight of her absence.
On Wednesday, he gave up his home office and stepped into the Crane with—God help him—a leather shoulder bag containing his laptop and other important files.
G.I. Executive.
Eli hadn’t been to Reese’s office downtown in…he didn’t know how long. His older brother was made for this place. Reese had always had a penchant for business, for presentation. For professionalism. Eli preferred some grit in his life. Always had. The most grit inside of the Crane was…well, Eli, at present.
He’d dressed in a suit and tie, face shaved—a sight he hadn’t yet grown used to seeing in the mirror.
At the top floor, he stepped out of the elevator and greeted Bobbie, Reese’s long-time assistant. Everyone said the woman was a bear to deal with. He didn’t get it.
“Good morning, Bobbie,” he greeted.
She smiled, but the expression did little to erase the hard lines of her features. “Elijah. You look well.”
“How is Derrick?” Her son was military, a few years older than Eli.
“Home for the holidays.” Her smile broadened.
“That’s good news.”
“It’s the best news. I’m sorry about your injury, but I’m glad you made it back alive. Derrick has lost friends.”
“Comes with the job,” Eli commented. The worst part of the job. At least as COO of Crane Hotels, the fallout wouldn’t be as traumatic if he fucked up. “Is Reese in?”
“He is.” She lifted the handset of her desk phone. “Reese, Elijah is here.”
“Seriously?” Reese asked into the speaker.
“I’ll send him in.” Bobbie pressed a button and Reese’s office doors swished open, automated or some fancy shit. Reese stood beyond them, stark surprise on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Reese asked.
“See you, Bobbie.” Eli touched the woman’s shoulder as he passed by and watched as she blushed. Merina and Tag always said the older woman was a hardnose. He didn’t see it.
The doors whooshed shut behind him as he stepped into his brother’s office. “That’s some real Star Trek shit.”
“She loves you more than any of us,” Reese commented, ignoring Eli’s observation about the doors.
“Who? Bobbie?”
“I think she has a crush on you.”
Eli grunted. “Whatever.”
“Yeah. She’s married anyway.” His brow crinkled. “I think.”
Reese’s office was regal. A lush leather couch sat under bookshelves packed with spines, and a black block of a desk stood in front of windows that wrapped the room.
“So…?” Reese lifted an eyebrow at the bag slung over Eli’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Why does something have to be wrong for me to show up here?”
Reese offered a bland blink.
“As it turns out, I need a space to work that is not at my house,” Eli said. He hadn’t heard from Isa since she’d walked out. When he texted her on Monday to see if she was okay, she’d replied Tuesday with one word: Fine.
Sounded like a bad omen to him.
“Too quiet there.” If Eli’s options were to overexamine his relationship with Isa or blame the quiet, he’d go with blaming the quiet.
“I thought you liked quiet. You’ve spent the year trying to get Tag and me to leave you alone.”
“I know. I don’t understand it either.” Eli had changed. And most of the reason for that change had long, dark hair, legs that wouldn’t quit, and sincere whiskey-brown eyes that he could fall into and not care if he ever returned…if he could find a way to give her what she wanted without losing his mind in the process.
“Women are complicated,” Eli grumbled.
“No kidding.” Reese leaned on the corner of his desk and folded his arms. “What happened?”
“Isa and I had a fight.” Apparently, they were talking about this. Eli plunked his bag on the guest chair.
Reese shrugged. “Couples fight. What was it about?”
Eli swallowed past his very dry throat, debating on how to collapse what had happened and fit it into a manageable nutshell. “She…expects more from me.”
“Hmm.”
Eli lifted his chin. His brother wore a smirk of amusement mixed with a dose of Been there, done that.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say Isabella Sawyer is under your skin.”
All the way under. But admitting it involved him talking about a plethora of other feelings and emotions—none of which he was willing to go into.
“I came in to use an office.” Eli jerked his head toward the doors behind him, itching to escape. “Do I have one? If not, I can take the conference room.”
“Dad’s office is empty. Desk, a stapler, and a wastebasket, but otherwise empty. We saved it for you.” Reese smiled. “Just in case.”
“I’ll take it,” Eli said with a nod. Anywhere was better than his warehouse, with his own voice bouncing off the walls.
* * *
At nine o’clock Friday night, Isa was at her desk in her darkened office. She’d given herself time over the week to process. Or, well, she’d given herself the week to get over Eli, but that wasn’t happening. She had successfully shelved her tumultuous emotions and arrived at a pragmatic, practical conclusion.
She didn’t like the conclusion at which she had arrived.
If Eli wasn’t willing to go down Lover’s Lane with her, then she’d have to put her heart into reverse and find another highway to travel.
She’d been so busy, her pile of mail had sat in her inbox unopened for the entire week. When she’d finally sorted through it a few minutes ago, she’d come across a crisp, heavy-stock envelope. In it, the invitation to the Royale London event hosted by the Cranes. The event where Eli would be announced as Crane Hotels’s COO. As Reese had promised, the function would also serve as a fund-raiser for Refurbs for Vets.
All the top brass from the biggest companies would likely attend the event to make their presence and support known. Sable Concierge, having provided assistants for several of those businesses, would be expected to show as well. She couldn’t avoid it for personal reasons.
Plus, being there to hobnob was just plain smart. Isa was a smart businesswoman, and the future of her company depended on her being smart enough to do what was needed rather than what she wanted. Which meant showing up at the event and schmoozing with a chunk of upper-class Chicago.
There was only one problem.
She couldn’t do it.
She stroked the vellum over the fancy invitation with one finger, chin resting on her hand, elbow leaning on her desk. As much as she tried to convince herself she didn’t need Eli in her future to have a future, she wasn’t ready to face him again.
Elijah Crane had altered everything in her life. As much as she wanted them to be, a thriving business and shining success were no longer enough for her. She wanted Sable Concierge to bloom, and she wanted to be in a loving, growing relationship. And not in a generic sense. She wanted a relationship with Eli.
How inconvenient.
Last week, he’d made it clear she was not his priority. He’d made it clearer this week when the only contact she’d received from him was a text message. As much as she wanted to vilify him, she couldn’t. She understood why she wasn’t at the top of his priority list. He had gone back to Crane Hotels and taken on a new role. COO would take most of his time. He’d have to find a new routine, learn the ropes, fall down and pick himself back up.
If she had been navigating a relationship while building her business, one or the other would’ve collapsed under the weight of long days and longer nights. There simply wasn’t enough time to succeed professionally and personally in the beginning.
She set the invitation aside and let out a sigh. This was the hard part. She knew what she had to do and it was the last thing in the world she wanted to do. She’d spent the last week wishing she were the kind of person who could be with Eli and keep her feelings at bay until he was ready.
She wasn’t willing to wait. The waiting could last a few weeks—a few months. A few years. Being in love alone wasn’t an option. When she’d confessed how she felt about him, and he didn’t concur, a piece of her shrank. If things continued on that same path, how much longer until she withered away completely?
With Josh, she’d shrunk herself so small that by the time they split, she felt microscopic. She couldn’t do that again. She was responsible for a team of people, for running a business that helped very important people. She had to put herself first, which had always been one of her biggest challenges. In this case, that meant she needed to put her needs before Eli’s.
Chloe had a date tonight, so she’d already gone home. Isa assured her she would be safe walking from the front door to her apartment. She doubted the mugger would be back for seconds, and if she was by herself, she had to learn how to fend for herself.
She couldn’t expect Eli to ride in on his white horse again.
Keys in hand, she pulled her purse over her shoulder and went to the front door. Not for the first time, she considered creating an entrance from the office space to the upstairs apartment. Maybe that was something she would do this year. She had bought a small container of mace to hang from her keychain, so as soon as she had the door locked and was outside, she held it at the ready.
At the foot of her stairs leading to her apartment, headlights shined across the parking lot, causing her to jolt with panic. But the panic was short-lived. The car belonged to her former assistant-slash-new manager.
Chloe stepped out of a grass-green smart car, her auburn curls bouncing. The rest of her, however, wasn’t bouncing.
“That was a fast date,” Isa said.
“I was stood up.” Chloe shrugged, arms out to her sides before dropping them next to her. “My new dress is going to waste. Want to go to Posh for a martini?”
Isa smiled. “Chloe Andrews. Are you asking me out?”
“If you’ll have me.” She swept an arm toward her car. “Your fuel-efficient, environmentally savvy chariot awaits.”
Isa couldn’t refuse that offer. Especially after the week she’d had.
Twenty minutes later, Isa and Chloe sat in Posh, a martini bar with a clublike setting.
“I now understand why they have the ‘it’s complicated’ description online for relationships.” Isa plucked the cherry out of her Manhattan and pulled the fruit off the stem with her teeth. “You think you know what you’re doing,” she said as she chewed, “but then sex happens and you have no idea what you’re doing.”
Chloe nodded sagely and sipped her martini, her reddish hair reflecting the pink bar lights. A DJ hovered from a platform overhead, across from him a shelflike overhang with furniture and a table, a private area for people who’d rather not smash in with the crowd.
Smashing in with the crowd suited Isa just fine.
“Sorry about your date,” Isa said to her friend.
“Eh.” Chloe shrugged. “Being stood up is better than following a relationship to the bitter end, I guess.”
Isa considered that.
Chloe winced. “I didn’t mean to imply things were over between you and Eli.”
But it felt like things were over, which meant they probably were. Isa hadn’t reopened the conversation and neither had Eli.
“It’s not like you broke up,” Chloe added.
“It’s not like we were ever official,” Isa amended.
“At least you had a guy.”
“You don’t want one. Trust me. ” Isa lifted her stemmed glass. “I’m the moron who fell in love with him. I have no one to blame but myself.”
Chloe patted Isa’s hand with sympathy, then sipped her own cocktail. Isa relinquished her glass to dig the Royale London invitation from her purse. She slid it across the bar to Chloe, who lifted the expensive paper and regarded Isa with confusion.
“What’s this?”
“I need you to go on behalf of Sable Concierge.” It hurt her heart to say the words. To admit she wasn’t going to go to the event herself. Whatever she and Eli had really was over.
“Isa.” Chloe shook her head and offered the invitation.
“Please, Chloe.” Isa pushed the invitation back into Chloe’s hand. “There will be lots of executives from other companies there. Take a date. Take a coworker. Canvas the hotel for potential future clients. One of us should. I can’t go. I can’t face him.”
Partially because she was humiliated and partially because she was heartbroken. She’d been trying to be strong for a week, but right now, miserable and hovering over her martini glass, there was no sense in prolonging the inevitable. Eli had shut her out the moment she’d walked away from him.
Yet, she couldn’t regret it. Walking away was, ironically, her way of standing up for herself. It still hurt, though.
“Ladies,” a male voice oozed from over her shoulder. Isa turned around to see a man wearing a cowboy hat—a legit cowboy hat. He leaned an elbow on the bar. “Can I buy you two cowgirls a drink?”
“Eww.” That came from Chloe.
Isa burst into a fit of liquor-fueled laughter as the man’s smile vanished.
“Bitches,” he spat, then turned to go find his next prey.
When Isa turned to face her friend, Chloe was giggling.
“I can’t even.” Chloe swiped tears from her lashes. “I think I’ll stay single for a while longer.”
“Like until the apocalypse,” Isa suggested. “Then if you pair up with someone it will be to save the planet, not get a free drink.”
Their laughter ebbed at the same time and Chloe gave Isa a decisive nod. “I’ll go to the Crane event for you.”
“Yeah?” Isa never knew she could feel relief and regret at the same time. “Thank you.” She planned on donating to Refurbs for Vets. Regardless of what she and Eli had been through, the charity was worthy.
“Anything for you. To Sable Concierge.” Chloe lifted her drink and Isa tapped the glass with hers and sipped.
Knowing her friend had her back didn’t staunch the disappointment settling in her gut. She’d fought for independence a long time ago, but this was the first time she’d felt less than empowered.
Stupid love.
Stupid heart.
* * *
“The Crane brothers, back together.” Tag passed a red Solo Cup to Eli and one to Reese and kept one for himself.
Reese took a sniff at the inch of liquid in the bottom. “Tequila?”
“Yeah.”
“Not very sophisticated. I like it,” Eli said, tapping his brothers’ cups with his own before throwing back the shot. Flames lit his throat and he coughed.
“You are out of practice, my friend,” Tag said, slapping Eli’s back.
This Friday dinner was different from the rest. Eli, Tag, and Reese had worked late, so they came straight from the office. Merina and Rachel had met up for happy hour without them—something called “GNO,” whatever the hell that was. The regularly scheduled dinner was on, just later than usual. Even their father and Rhona were planning to attend.
Which left Eli the odd man out. Again.
Fantastic.
“Where is your girl tonight, Eli?” Tag asked.
“Yeah, how are things going with Isabella?” That came from Reese. “You never shared what became of your argument last week.”
“First fights suuuck,” Tag hissed through his teeth.
No, Eli hadn’t shared. Sharing meant admitting he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. No sense in being humiliated as well as devastated. His heart and home felt empty. His head was fuzzy. His arms were lonely without Isa in them.
Here he’d thought he was a sorry sack of shit when he’d been discharged. His and Isa’s breakup was in the running for first place.
He didn’t know if it was the tequila or the rare opportunity to have time alone with his brothers, but one of the two made him say, “She loves me.”
There was a distinct pause.
“Like…she can’t resist you?” Tag asked. “Or like she literally loves you and you don’t know what the fuck to do about it?”
Eli gave him a wry glance. “The last one.”
Tag rested both his elbows on the countertop and raised his eyebrows. Waiting. Reese, arms folded over his chest, head tilted to the side, waited too.
“Change isn’t easy for me,” Eli grumbled.
“This comes as a shock to no one,” Reese said.
“I have a track record at not giving women what they want—what they really want.”
Tag shook his head. “Change isn’t easy for any of us, E.”
“What is it that Isa really wants?” Reese asked.
I want a future with you. I want to see who we can be when you’re not holding back.
“More than I can give her,” Eli said. “She needs someone ready. I’m not ready.”
Reese mumbled something that sounded like, Your funeral.
“You think I was ready to go after Rachel?” Tag asked with an incredulous chuckle. “Lucas’s wife had to practically brain me over the head to get me to realize I was being stubborn. I could’ve lost her altogether.” His face contorted as if the possibility made him physically ill. “Don’t be that stubborn, E.”
“Gwyneth was the one who flushed me out of my hotel suite,” Reese put in. “Cranes have a knack for head-up-the-ass mentality.”
“Look, I didn’t mean for this to turn into an intervention.” Eli started to leave the kitchen but then Reese spoke and stopped Eli in his tracks.
“It’s not an intervention. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. She deserves more than you on the fence. Even if going to her would pull her back in for a short while. She was honest with you, and I assume you were honest back.”
“That was the problem,” Eli muttered.
“Then maybe it was never meant to be.” Reese held Eli’s glare, interrupting with a patient blink.
Eli hated when Reese was right. Problem was, he was right a lot. About a lot of things. There was a reason he’d always looked up to his older brother. And now that Eli had manned up in more than just a business sense, it was harder to dismiss Reese or what he knew about life…and love.
“By the way, I proposed to Rachel last night.”
Reese and Eli snapped their heads in Tag’s direction. Tag folded his hands where he leaned on the counter and smiled.
“No shit?” Reese asked. Then a smile graced his mouth. “Congratulations.”
“Sorry, E. Didn’t mean to be insensitive. She’ll be here any minute wearing a rock the size of your car, so I thought it was better you know before you saw it.”
“How’d you do it?” Reese asked.
“Brought back a jar of sand from Maui, from the site of the new Crane hotel. She said the jar wasn’t ‘pretty enough’”—he mimed air quotes—“to preserve my first new build. We picked out a glass container at an antique shop after dinner one night, and when we arrived home, she insisted in pouring the sand into the new container, and”—he spread his hands—“out came the ring.”
Tag’s grin widened. A man in love. A man who knew how to love. Eli envied his younger brother more than ever before.
“Damn.” Reese frowned. “That was better than my first proposal.”
“Yeah, but Merina remarried you, so the second one must have been good.”
Reese smiled, his eyes going to one side in thought. “It was.”
“Congratulations, Tag,” Eli said, meaning it. But the familiar frustration coated him at his brothers’ happiness. Frustration he had no right to blame on them. Eli had gotten himself into this mess. He shoved his feelings of inadequacy aside and yanked open a drawer in the kitchen, coming out with a deck of cards. “Can we stop clucking like hens and play poker now?”
“Yes. I’ll gladly take your money,” Tag said, taking the change of topic in stride.
“You’re the worst gambler I know,” Reese said.
“Bet you twenty bucks I’m not.” Tag grabbed the bottle of tequila and they moved to the table and sat.
“See?” Reese said to Eli, shooting a thumb over his shoulder at Tag.
“Five card draw,” Eli announced, shuffling. “Nothing wild.”
On cue, Tag drummed the table with his hands and said, “Except for me.”