“Sagaponack?” I glared at my father across his desk. In the two weeks I’d been back, I hadn’t stopped glaring.

“Yes, Sagaponack. And stop scowling. You’re going to end up looking like my mother when she got old if you keep that up.” Dad pushed back his rolling chair, stood, and stepped over to the window to stare out at the San Francisco skyline and the bay. “It’s in New York.”

I glared harder. “I know it’s in New York.”

He didn’t bother to look back. “Then you’ll also know it’s one of the most exclusive little towns in the country. We’ll try Comfort Coffee again, there.”

“You’re really going to send me to New York?”

“It’s business, Joel. You’re not your mother. You have enough money to not need the subway, and even if you decide to slum it, I trust you’re smart enough to do so without getting yourself killed.” At the sound of me sucking in a breath, he finally glanced over, giving a glare of his own. “Business.”

“And if I’m more like Mom than you want to believe and I stay there?” Even I couldn’t deny that I sounded like a petulant child, refusing to eat his dinner to punish his parents.

“Then we’ll be a bicoastal company.” He shrugged and returned to the glittering view. “Just don’t sleep with the locals this time.”

“I didn’t just sleep with Andrew. I love him.”

Nothing. Not a smirk, not a shrug, not a shit to give.

Again, I sounded more like a teenager declaring love to a parent who doesn’t approve of their boyfriend. Not a successful thirty-five-year-old man.

It was gross. And I knew it.

And I was more and more aware of that feeling with every passing day. Maybe it was the role I’d always played with my father.

My father had surprised me upon my return. Surprised me in two ways. He hadn’t blown up at my failure. He’d been silent, utterly silent as I explained both the situation of returning home without a contract and the reasons why. Not even when I made it clear there would be no chance for Comfort Coffee to enter Lavender Shores now, not even close. But then, he hadn’t needed words. He’d been silent and cold. The only reaction had been a flicker of surprise at the onset, then nothing. Just cold. His disdain and judgment had been evident.

The other shock? I hadn’t been demoted, nor threatened with losing my position as his successor.

I wasn’t sure whether that spoke of my father’s actual faith in my ability or his unwillingness to let the company go to someone outside the Rhodes bloodline.

Probably the latter. All right, no probably about it.

“I never tire of this view.” He glanced away long enough to retrieve his tumbler of scotch, then resumed his position at the window. “It’s the only thing that really brings me pleasure. The lights twinkling, people scurrying around, skyscrapers and bridges and trolley cars. Every aspect of the city, right there. Like the stars and planets above, but all of it within reach, and all of it beneath me.” He sipped his drink. “You should join them. You leave in two weeks. You are booked on the plane to New York on the first of July.”

I hesitated for a second. I wasn’t sure why. He didn’t need me to say goodbye or make any other comment. The law had been laid down. I would follow. Just one more of the lives beneath him.

Sagaponack.

New York.

Well, what did it matter? Like I gave a shit where I was.

I was nearly to the office door when my father spoke again. “Joel…”

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t disappoint me again.” He didn’t take his attention from the view. “And do your homework this time.”

I’d intended to take the town car to the Nob Hill Café, my favorite place in the city for gnocchi. It wasn’t fancy, but it was comforting. I needed that desperately. But instead, halfway there I asked the driver to take me to the bridge.

I got out, the breeze whipping at me as soon as I opened the car door. I leaned back in. “Don’t wait on me. I’m going to be a while.”

He gave me a concerned expression. “Are you all right sir?”

I knew that look. The concern wasn’t for me. “I’m not jumping, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“I’m not. Don’t worry. If I was, I’d take a cab. I can only imagine what my father would do to you if you’d delivered me to my death.”

Another second of observation and then he nodded. “Very good, sir.”

I shut the door and watched him drive off. Hell, maybe my father would’ve actually given the guy a raise to dispose of his disappointing offspring so efficiently. Although, that would make the headlines, wouldn’t it? And Dad wasn’t a believer in the no-such-thing-as-bad-press mantra.

I hadn’t walked across the Golden Gate Bridge since I was a child. Another of my mother’s rebellions. Rhodes didn’t lower themselves to the level of tourists in their own kingdom. I didn’t think my father actually said kingdom, but he might as well have.

We’d gone to a baseball game, and then she’d taken me to the bridge. The night had been similar to this. Rather cold, strong wind, clear skies.

I’d been scared as we walked across, cars zooming on one side of us, their lights blurring in speed, and the dark depths on the other, waiting.

We didn’t speak, or if we did, I didn’t recall what was said.

I remember her hand in mine as we walked.

I remember her pulling her long dark hair back into a ponytail, another thing my father didn’t condone.

And I remember her leaning on the railing, staring out at the water, her ponytail whipping in the wind. Her beautiful face illuminated in profile by the lights and etched in sadness.

She’d left not too long after, and I often wondered if she’d been considering running away. If she’d pondered the possibility of taking me with her. Flagging down one of the passing cars and disappearing.

As if you could ever disappear from my father and his limitless resources.

And there I was again, leaning on the same section of railing. At least, I thought it was the same; it seemed right. I felt her there, next to me.

Oh, I knew she wasn’t. She was gone. She wasn’t whispering in my ear, telling me how to fix my stupid, stupid life. But I felt her nonetheless. Felt her echo, felt the young version of myself from all those years ago.

The dark surface of the water rippled in reflections of purple and gold from the lights of buildings at the shore. I knew it was beautiful, but I couldn’t see it. It was flat. As if after bathing in Andrew’s beauty and losing it, nothing could ever compare. After a bit, I pulled out my wallet and slipped Sandy Koufax’s card free, then replaced my wallet.

I’d taken off the plastic sleeve my first day back. It was one more layer of distance between Andrew and me. When I traced the edges of the card, I could feel him, and my heart would slow. It had become such a habit already that the card showed wear and tear from my constant touch.

Holding it tight, I looked to the north.

What was he doing at that moment?

It was late, so he was probably done for the day. Probably at home in his condo. Maybe talking to Gilbert on the phone or with his batshit-crazy father. I couldn’t help but grin at the thought of Robert.

My smile died quickly. How they all had to hate me. Rightly so.

I could pretend I hadn’t hurt Andrew. That it had only been a few days, so the hurt couldn’t be that great. But I knew better. I’d seen it every time I looked into his beautiful blue eyes. He’d hung every hope on me, and by God, I’d wanted to be worthy of that trust. But I hadn’t been. I wasn’t. He’d chosen wrong. And I’d let him.

And I hurt. I hadn’t even had hopes resembling Andrew’s, but somehow he’d infused them into my soul. I had them now. I wanted… a home. Someone to come home to, to build a life with, to fall asleep at night and wake up next to. Someone to make love with, fight with, cry with, sit and watch stupid television with.

I wanted him.

I missed the way his body moved under mine. The feel of his muscles and the strength when he wrapped me in his embrace. His smile brighter than any of the stars dotting the sky.

I missed the ease of being in his presence; even when I’d worried about how it would all end, I breathed easier simply being near him. The sound of his laughter and the joy at being the cause at times. How happy he looked when he spoke about Lavender Shores and me returning to him to walk along the cliffs and through the trees.

I missed every part of what made up Andrew Kelly.

I hadn’t even realized we’d never exchanged numbers until I was home. I called Lavender Realty a couple of days later, and Regina answered. I hung up. It was for the best. What could I say? I had no way to make it right.

And it wasn’t like Andrew didn’t have access to all of my information. He could call if he wanted. Which, he obviously didn’t. I couldn’t blame him.

I wanted Andrew, maybe more now than I did when he was in my arms. But what good did that do? Even if he could forgive me, which he wouldn’t, he was settled. He never planned to leave Lavender Shores. What was I supposed to do with that? Even if I could live happily in such a small town, which seemed preposterous, what would I do for a job? Sure, I had enough that I could live comfortably for the rest of my life. I was a Rhodes. I’d be back here and jumping from this bridge within a month.

I stared at Sandy. He was whispering something. No, really. He was, but I couldn’t catch it in the wind. As if to make certain his words washed away, the wind ripped him from my fingers. I screamed. I sounded like someone had died. Not that I gave a shit how I sounded. The card flew out over the dark water, and I leaned, trying to grasp it. It grazed my fingertips and the wind cackled and breathed again, this time shooting it skyward, high between the crisscrossing beams. I ran beneath it, following its path as best I could, running into tourists, and not bothering to slow or apologize.

Another gust of wind and Sandy plummeted down and landed on the walkway less than five feet away. A high-heeled shoe slammed over his face and then lifted once more.

I dove just as the wind attempted a final time. The card moved, but my fingers closed over it as it darted out into the night once more. I rolled to my side and clutched it to my chest, not caring that I’d crumpled it into a ball. I closed my eyes.

“Buddy, are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

It took a moment for me to realize the words were directed at me. I looked up at an old face, the man looking down at me in concern as he pointed to my cheek.

“That looks pretty bad.”

I must have hit the concrete when I dove. I started to lift my hand to check but wasn’t about to let go of the card. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I said I’m fine.” I didn’t sound fine.

“You about to jump? I saw a jumper a few years back. You don’t wanna jump.”

“I said I’m fine.” I could barely speak through my clenched teeth.

“You don’t look fine. You’re crying.”

That I was. Though it had shit to do with my cheek. I rolled over again and managed to push myself up to a standing position without letting go of the card. I spared the man a glance before taking off the way I’d come. “I’m not going to jump.”

The scrapes weren’t that bad after I washed and then lathered them in Neosporin. But there were a lot more than just the one on my cheek. My arms looked like I’d been in a bike wreck, and I’d managed to bruise my legs and ruin my pants.

Not that any of that mattered.

Sandy Koufax was in worse condition than I was. He was barely recognizable beneath the cracks and rips over the surface of the paper. Even so, I propped him against the small pile of books on my nightstand as I did every night before bed. As I reached to turn off the lamp, he whispered again. This time the wind couldn’t carry away his words. I considered the plan he presented and then discarded it. I turned off the light and sank back into bed, knowing that like every night before, I’d dream of Andrew surrounded by the lavender blossoms of his palisade, and I’d wake with tears in my eyes.