CHAPTER 1
Ryan
“Fuck. I was supposed to be there an hour ago,” I muttered as I stared at the brake lights in front of me. Nobody was moving tonight, and I groaned as I dropped my head back against the seat of my Escalade. I saw a break ahead and switched lanes quickly, earning a loud honk as I turned left to go to the parking lot nearby. I was already tense from the argument I’d had with my parents earlier today, so I planned to have a drink before running down the street to Lucy’s party.
The public thought my family was wealthy and perfect. Mitch and Linda Hall were a power couple with their successful banking firm that had made them rich beyond belief. They had everything money could buy, and I was like a pawn in their game. Mom was certainly beautiful with her long blond hair and bright blue eyes, but she’d had so much surgical work done to keep her youthful appearance. She was in her late forties now but didn’t look a day over thirty. Dad was a savvy businessman, always in the papers and online blogs for having made billions in the business.
I wasn’t hurting for anything. I had a great penthouse in Manhattan and I drove a brand-new Escalade. Possessions weren’t an issue, but Dad was infuriated that I didn’t want to step into the family business. It had been in the family for generations now, and he was always pushing me to embrace my legacy. It was our constant argument.
The final straw was when my father had decided to add conditions to my inheritance. I had been set to get it at the age of twenty-five, and my father waited until just before my birthday to change the terms.
I walked into a corner bar, needing to relax before I joined the party. Lucy was my favorite cousin, and I had a great time with her when we hung out, so I didn’t want to be an asshole when I arrived. She was already going to give me shit about being late in the first place.
It wasn’t like I spent days at the bank working. I avoided it as much as possible and only helped when necessary. I ordered a whiskey on the rocks and looked at it for a moment before I tossed it back in one gulp.
My mother was an alcoholic. That was her big secret from the public, but Dad and I both knew how bitter and angry she was when she was drunk at home. They fought all the time and she bossed him around, playing him like an instrument to maintain her lavish lifestyle. It was no wonder Dad worked so much.
I called out for another drink, needing a little more of the burning warmth in my throat. I wasn’t driving if I didn’t have to. I would take a cab home and get my car tomorrow. I tried to loosen up more by drinking the second one at a slower pace while running a hand through my hair.
I was not my mother. I was young, just thirty-two, and going to a social function. People drank at parties, and I was not the nasty lush Mom was. I was friendly and interested in conversations, meeting people, and getting to know them. I had a lot of friends who were involved in social work. That was what I wanted to do with my inheritance money, which Dad was going to hold.
I needed to get married or provide a child to get the half million dollars set aside for me by my grams. I was her favorite grandson. When she’d been alive, she had always told me she saw me doing good things with the money in the future. She died when I was just fifteen, breaking my heart, and Dad had decided to change the terms of the will. He was very proud of the firm and wanted it to stay in the family, no matter what. Once I explained that I wanted to go in a different direction, he altered things so I’d be forced to play by his rules.
It hadn’t bothered me so much at twenty-five. I’d been living fine then, but now I was all too aware that I needed to be hitched or expecting a child within six months. Nothing like love and romance in the Hall family. I didn’t think anyone had it, least of all my folks. They seemed to hate each other at home but always played it up for the media. If I didn’t comply with the rules, there would be no inheritance for me to change the world with, and Dad had made it clear that things weren’t going to change. I’d have to work somewhere making money, and I didn’t know what I could get. I wasn’t stupid, but I’d blown off college and it was competitive here in the city. Dad had told me he wasn’t going to help me if I didn’t choose the business or marriage and a family. I knew from growing up with him that he meant what he said. Dad was a hard-ass and Mom was a nag who made it all worse.
Why the fuck would I want to get married?
I finished my third drink and walked to Lucy’s apartment, which was just a few blocks away. As an artist, she fit in perfectly here in Brooklyn. Like most New Yorkers, she was building her career while she waitressed at a local diner. Her parents weren’t thrilled with her choices, and we bonded over that. I was pushing for her to make it, and she could afford the apartment with a roommate. I was proud of her. I headed up the stairs and tapped on the door, hoping someone would hear me over the music.
The door opened and Lucy’s wild brown curls came into view before the eyes that matched her hair. She shook her head at me. “You’re late!”
“Hey! I got stuck in traffic and parked a few blocks away to make myself less late than I was going to be. Give me a break.” I held up my hands and grinned at her as I watched her lips curl up into a smile. “Let me in.”
She moved to the side and I saw that the small two-bedroom apartment was full of about thirty people. They were all more of Lucy’s crowd if I were to take my parents’ stance, but I liked her friends. I walked through the door and she led me toward the kitchen where the drinks were lined up on the counter. I poured another whiskey out of habit and glanced around, seeing men and women alike. A tall brunette walked over and hugged Lucy as I looked on. I found her intense green eyes alluring as Lucy squealed and hugged her back. “It’s about time, Brea.”
“I had to close at the coffee shop. Some people refused to leave.” Brea rolled her eyes as I stared at her, finding her more compelling with each passing second. Lucy looked around as someone called out her name. She ran off as I looked nervously at Brea.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Brea Taylor. I’m Lucy’s best friend.”
I reached over and shook her hand, appreciating her solid grip.
“I’m Ryan Hall, her cousin. We haven’t met before, have we?”
She shook her head and smiled weakly.
“Probably not, no. I haven’t been around until recently. I just graduated from NYU, and that kept me busy.”
I looked her over, thinking she was a bit older than most graduates I’d met.
“Want a drink?” I asked. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “You don’t drink?”
“I…I took care of my dad for a couple years while he was dying of liver failure. He was an alcoholic, and I think that whole childhood and the watching him die thing made me never want to drink. It can be so damaging,” she said as she reached for a can of soda. “I know that it’s fun for people in their twenties and it’s what we’re supposed to be doing, but I’ve been over it for a while now.” She giggled. “I went to an ice skating rink on my twenty-first birthday with some friends. We skated around, singing every song and acting like fools.” She shook her head. “I thought I’d be out of school soon at that point, but then Dad got sick. Mom’s remarried in Minnesota, and it was on me to take care of him. I took a break from school for that.”
“How long?” I asked, drawn to the caring in her bright eyes as she smiled wistfully.
“Two years. I’m twenty-seven and I just graduated a few months ago. It’s crazy.” Brea glanced up at me and smiled. “I feel like I am so out of the loop.”
“What was your major?” I asked.
She sighed heavily. “Cinema studies. Great, huh? I want to be a filmmaker in the biggest, most competitive city on the planet.” She shook her head as I looked down at my drink. I didn’t want it, and I regretted the other drinks I’d had on the way over. While I wasn’t my mother and didn’t suffer from her addiction, I also didn’t need alcohol to have a good time. I set it down and looked around, reaching for a soda as she tilted her head curiously at me. “Change your mind?”
“My mom drinks a lot. I’m pretty sure she’s a closet alcoholic, but I’d never say that to her face. When you were talking about your dad, I thought a lot about her. She’s not sick, not like he was. She’s probably headed there though.” I looked into her face, taking in the thick hair that hung over her shoulders before I looked into her eyes. “I’ve always said that I’m not like her. I don’t drink often, but when I do it feels like I’m proving a point, like I’m telling myself I’m not her. I don’t even know why I bother, because it isn’t all that great the next morning.”
“No, it’s not.” She smiled at me in agreement and started to sip her soda before she held it up. I clinked mine to hers and we laughed as she shook her head. “I’m sorry I babbled your head off the second I got here. I normally don’t do that kind of thing, I swear. You’re just easy to talk to.”
I was different with her than I was with other women. I’d inherited the alpha male quality from my father, and hated it. I was glad she didn’t see that side of me tonight. Hell, what good did it do him when my mother just pushed him around anyway?
“It’s fine. I like when you feel like you can just talk to someone, you know? No awkwardness.” I smiled at her and saw the look in her eyes as I made it one of my more charming ones. Brea was hot, and I watched as she laughed and looked around.
“What do you do?” she asked. I frowned. Here Brea was so smart and compassionate and I hadn’t even gone to school past high school. When I’d been younger, I had just wanted to enjoy life and had assumed Dad would shove me into the family business. He had tried, but once I’d felt like I’d had more of a voice, I had told him that I didn’t want to do it.
Somehow, I never made it to college.
“I’m floating around right now,” I told her. She raised a perfect brow at me. “I’m deciding what I want to be when I grow up.” That was a lie since I had no choice in the matter. I would get married just to get the inheritance. Then I could finally start something of my own and fake it until we could dissolve the marriage. It would give me the start I needed, and even though I was going to cave to my father’s wishes, I felt like it would be the key to my freedom.
“There you are. Holding down the booze?” I heard my best friend Lewis say as I rolled my eyes. He had worked his way into this party once he’d heard that I’d gotten the invite. He was a trust fund kid, though his had come much easier to him, and he joked that he liked the hippie girls at Lucy’s parties. I’d corrected him several times already, and my skin bristled as he checked out Brea with a hungry gaze. “Who are you?”
“This is Lucy’s best friend, Brea. Brea, this is Lewis.”
She gave me a curious look and then stared him down as he checked out her curvy body. She wore jeans and an off-the-shoulder shirt that was extremely flattering.
“Hi,” she said without offering to shake his hand. I smirked. A lot of women fell for Lewis’s blond hair and blue eyes, but not too many from this crowd. He was a hit at the parties our friends threw.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he told her, leaning over and giving her a confident gaze. I thought he already had a friend-with-benefits deal with Lucy, though I didn’t get why.
“Yeah. Right back at you.” There was a bite in her voice as she shot him down, and I felt pleasure race through my veins at her smart-ass comment. Brea was not going to be another notch on Lewis’s bed post.
I wondered if she would be on mine.