Chapter Twenty-Four
Lilah
I had arrived back in the States in the late afternoon. I had never flown first class before and it had been quite an experience. After that level of service, respect, and luxury, I definitely wanted to do it again. The next time, however, I would foot the bill for it myself. I didn't want anyone paying my way. Since I had the rare luxury of free time while all the new computers were set up at the office and all the data restored from the cloud backup, I figured I should see Ed since I hadn't seen him for nearly two weeks. Maybe he could help me decipher all the mixed emotions I was dealing with.
My mind was like a revolving door, and Asher was stuck in it going around and around. He had messaged me on Sunday, and he'd seemed to try to express what came across as genuine feelings of affection for me—but part of me just couldn't shake the suspicion that I might be yet another notch on the bedpost.
I kept thinking back to how hard I'd once fallen for Jacob. Or rather, how hard I'd let myself fall for another man. Because that was it, wasn't it?
Jacob hadn't forced me to fall in love with him. Sure he'd been charming, good looking, and suave. He'd certainly made it easy to fall in love with him. But looking back, I also remembered there was a time when I questioned him. There was a tiny gut feeling that I’d ignored. I distinctly remember the moment where I'd thought to myself, You're falling for this guy. Are you sure this is a wise thing to do?
I gave in to it then. I ignored my gut feeling, abandoned my logic, and gave myself—heart and soul—to this man who'd seemed perfect in most every way.
I'd blinded myself to reality, to his faults, to all the blaring red flags that anyone else would have seen. In truth, some of my friends did see them. I just rationalized them.
What did it leave me with? Heartbreak—a month before our wedding.
I hadn't thought I'd ever even consider opening myself up to another man again, trusting again, or loving again. All of my faith in love had been shattered, crushed beneath the heels of an empty soul who took my heart and kicked it out into the street, then stomped all over it before walking off laughing.
I shook my head. I had to get my mind off things of the past.
I took out my phone, pulled up Eddie's name in my contacts, and gave him a call.
“Hey, Eddie.”
“Hey, sis, how was your trip to Paris?”
“Pretty damn amazing, actually.”
I didn't want to talk about Asher or what had happened between Asher and I. So if Eddie asked, I'd just brush it off and switch topics. After all, aside from what had been going on in my head, I had actually had a great time in Paris. Even if I’d had to do most of the exploring alone—I had to tell someone about the art, culture, and history I'd had the chance to take in. I knew Eddie had been there a few times to play shows with his band, so he would be a great person to talk to about it, without having the thought of Asher hovering over me all the while.
“Cool, cool. I wonder how it's changed since I was last there?”
“Well, do you wanna get a beer and we can talk about it? And, I'll show you the pics I took.”
“Sounds great! I've got a couple photos on this phone, actually. We can compare pics and stories. See you at McGinty's in an hour?”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
***
“So, how cool was the Louvre? How much time did you get to spend walking around it?” Eddie asked, smiling as he flipped through the photos I'd taken on my phone.
“It was seriously breathtaking. I mean, I walked around it for a couple of hours, but it felt like only five minutes.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. I think I spent a whole afternoon their last time I was in Paris. Just wandered around from around lunch time until a security guard came and kicked me out at closing time.”
“I'll have to go back again. I didn't get to see nearly enough of it.”
“You will have to. And hopefully billionaire boy will foot the bill again, huh?”
So far, we'd managed to avoid talking about Asher, but without even mentioning his name, Eddie had brought a flood of memories rushing through my head.
“Yeah,” I said, somewhat half-heartedly. “I probably will end up going back for another meeting, I think.”
“So, how's old Asher doing, huh?”
“He's, uh, he's good.”
Eddie handed my phone back to me and frowned before taking a swig of his beer.
“Really? I know that tone. Something doesn't seem right about this.”
“It's just . . . ya know, Eddie, I don't really want to get into it.”
He sipped on his beer again and nodded. “Okay. But you know I've always got your back, right, sis? I mean, if he's being a jerk, or whatever, you know I'm here.”
I couldn't help but smile.
“And, what are you going to do if he is being a jerk? Kick his ass for me? I'm not in high school any more, Eddie.”
He grinned. “Sometimes I feel like I still am, though,” he replied. “But seriously, if you wanna talk about it . . . I mean, I know I'm a guy and your brother, so maybe you don't think I'll get it. But hey, I've been on this rock for ten years longer than you, and I think I've learned a few things along the way. Maybe I can help, you know.”
I leaned across the table and squeezed his hand. “I know, I know. You've been the best brother—and friend—you could possibly have been all my life. And, I love you for that.”
“Thanks, sis. You know, you're the only one in the family who ever got me—the only one who really cared. And, you always believed in me when everyone else was telling me I was crazy trying to follow the path of a rocker, when everyone else was saying I'd end up homeless in the streets, you were the one who kept telling me: 'I believe in you, Ed. You're my hero. You can do anything you want, if you really believe in yourself.' And you said it with such conviction—”
“Because I was just a kid,” I interrupted. “I believed it.”
“Yeah, exactly! Your childlike faith got me through many dark times. And now look where I am. I made it!”
I looked at him as pride swelled in my chest. “You really did make it, Eddie. I'm proud of you.”
“And, you have no idea how proud I am of you. Hell, you stormed into that company, what's it called, Sinclair whatever, and you gave them hell! You blew ‘em outta the water with your ideas. You're gonna get right to the top, and nobody—especially not billionaire boy—is gonna stand in your way.
“You don't need his help. You don't need anything from that guy. You don't even need a dime from him. Because it's all you, you understand? Your talent, your ambition, your drive, your hard work—they've got you this far. And if that guy thinks he can play you, well . . . well, he can just go jump right out of his damn skyscraper and be done with it. Because there's no stopping you, whether you're working for him, or working for someone else. You're gonna be at the very top in just a few short years, sis, just a few short years. I can feel it! I know it!”
“Aww Eddie, you're just . . . You're the best. Seriously.”
I stood, walked around the table to where Ed was sitting, and gave him a big hug.
“I'm just gonna go to the little girls' room. I'll be back in a sec.”
“Sure thing. Hey, do me a favor, grab me one more beer from the bar when you come back?”
“Will do.”
I went off to the bathroom, feeling recharged and energized after Eddie’s inspiring speech. When I returned, I made a beeline for the bar. As I waited for the bartender to turn my way so I could get her attention, I caught sight of a strikingly handsome man, dressed impeccably in an Italian suit staring intently at me. His perfectly styled, blond hair was combed back in a side part and dark stubble peppered his powerful, square jaw. Ice-blue eyes gazed at me from beneath imposing eyebrows.
For a few moments, I couldn't take my eyes off of him—but then I felt suddenly uneasy and broke my trance. He, however, maintained his interest in me. After a half smile, he picked up his martini and sidled up to me at the bar.
“Hi,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “You don't know me . . . yet. But I’m hoping to change that. I would certainly like to get to know you.”
“Really? And who do you think I am that I might be so interesting to get to know?” I’d seen his kind before. They think they’re smooth. If you call them on it, one of two things will happen: you’ll either trip them up and they’ll have nothing, or they’ll feed you some bullshit line and you’ll at least get a good laugh. Either way, they are full of it. I expected nothing different from this one.
“I believe you are the lovely and talented Lilah Maxwell, rising star of the Sinclair Agency. It's a pleasure to finally see you in the flesh. You're every bit as gorgeous as my . . . assistant . . . says you are.”
I was immediately taken aback. Who on earth was this devilishly good-looking stranger, and how did he know who I was? I was both intrigued and slightly frightened.
“And how, precisely, do you know who I am?”
“We work in the same field, you and I,” he replied.
“Oh, really? And who might you be?”
“The name's Savage. Brendan Savage. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lilah. Very, very pleased indeed.”