NICHOLAS CHASED a tomato around his plate. His father and grandfather had escalated from quiet disapproval to outraged shouts twenty minutes ago. The prison-labor scandal was resolved as best it could be, but the men had started arguing over the scope and cost of the investigation.
His sister sat quietly across from him at the boardroom table. Eve had tried to talk to him before the meeting, but he hadn’t been able to concentrate on the annual gala the foundation was throwing and what she needed from him.
He didn’t much care about anything, to be honest.
It was never pity.
Then what was it?
I love you. I always have. I probably always will.
I love who you were, and I want to get to know you properly now so I can tell you how much I love you as the person you’ve become.
I am nothing without you. I live for the hours I can see you. Locked in stasis, waiting for you to turn the key.
Any of those would have been acceptable responses. How had he fumbled so badly?
Because you’re an idiot. And now look what’s happened. You’ve lost her. She’s going to leave town, and all you’ll be left with is—
“Nicholas.”
“Nicholas!”
He jerked, his head swiveling between the two patriarchs. “Sorry?”
Brendan folded his arms over his chest and glared at him. “Seems you’ve been sorry a lot lately. What’s going on with you?”
“I’m . . .” Tired from trying to save a family and a business that doesn’t care about saving me. “Nothing.”
“Then pay attention.”
Nicholas looked around the table, taking stock of his grandfather and sister and their concerned faces. Past and present and future, they were seated here.
If he’d learned anything from spending time with Livvy it was that he couldn’t change their past. He could regret it and learn from it, but their history would always exist.
He could change the present, though. He could take actionable steps to have some sort of future.
He’d feared every crank of emotion would ruin him, but instead it was like each one had made his life finally come into focus, like he was a camera with a clean lens.
Nicholas closed his eyes and opened them again, and this time, instead of noting the similarities between him and his father, he took stock of all the differences. They weren’t the same.
He could break this, right now. He didn’t need to be afraid.
He didn’t have to stay cold.
He put down his fork. “I have something on my mind.”
“Something more important than the business?” Brendan scoffed.
“Yes. Someone more important than the business.”
“Nothing is more important than the business.”
“You would say that,” Eve snapped.
Nicholas wasn’t sure which one of them was more stunned by Eve uttering the caustic words. His father shot her a fierce frown. Nicholas bet the man had forgotten Eve was there.
Since he couldn’t look at the girl for longer than a few minutes, Brendan returned to Nicholas. “Well? What’s on your mind then, that’s so important?”
He glanced at his grandfather, who had straightened in his wheelchair, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Livvy.”
A gasp came from Eve, quickly muffled.
Brendan stilled.
Nicholas met his father’s gaze. “Olivia Kane.”
Nicholas had witnessed his father’s rages. They were scary things, straight-up red-faced meltdowns. But this . . . this was new.
Brendan paled, his lips barely moving. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I told you to stay away from her.”
John leaned forward. “You did what?”
Oddly enough, uttering Livvy’s name had calmed him. It was done. His father knew, and all that was left to see was how the man would handle it.
He didn’t care what Brendan did, though, because Nicholas knew what he was going to do.
Nicholas shoved his salad aside and perused the platter of dessert. No cannoli, but there were chocolate chip cookies. He picked up two and placed them on a napkin. He took a big bite of one, aware his entire family was watching him like hawks. “I told you, I’m not a child.”
“You’re my child.”
“Your child, not your robot.” This magical land of not giving a fuck was pretty cool.
“I will not tolerate you seeing a member of that family.”
Another bite. “I don’t care.”
Brendan slammed his fist on the table. Eve jumped, but Nicholas didn’t move. Nor did he usher her and his grandfather out of the room.
They were adults, and he couldn’t protect them anymore. Let everyone see exactly who Brendan was.
“You know what they did to us!”
“They didn’t do anything to us.”
“They killed your mother.”
“No. Robert was behind that wheel. It sucked. It was bad. It was a fucking tragedy. But that had nothing to do with the rest of them. You’re the only one who wanted to punish the whole family for one man’s mistake.”
“One mistake? The fire—”
“The charges against Jackson were dropped,” he said flatly. It didn’t matter what he thought about the younger man.
It was too late for him to make peace with Paul. Regret slammed into him at the thought of his former best friend. Paul had been difficult and stubborn, no doubt, but Nicholas should have and could have tried harder to speak to the man instead of letting their friendship disappear.
Nicholas would have to carry that regret for the rest of his life. He could, however, make peace with the living Kane son.
“We all know he did it.” Brendan thumped his fist on the table again. “I knew this would happen. You were always panting after her like a dog after a bitch. What’s so special about her pussy, Nicholas?”
John barked out, “Watch it, Brendan,” but Nicholas couldn’t fully appreciate his grandfather scolding his father like a child.
He sat up straight, taking advantage of the few inches he had on his father. “Don’t speak that way about her ever again.”
The paleness in Brendan’s cheeks had vanished, replaced by a red flush. “Because it’s the truth?”
“Because if you want any place in my life, you’ll be civil to her.” Nicholas picked up his second cookie and bit into it, savoring the chocolate and brown sugar. It tasted like freedom. “You will not go near her, pay anyone to go near her, or do anything which could be seen in any way, shape, or form, as aggression.” Cookie in one hand, he leaned forward, not breaking eye contact with his father. “Do you understand me?”
“If you date that woman, Nicholas . . .” Brendan shook his head. “I told you what would happen.”
“You were bluffing.”
“You think so?” Brendan looked at Eve. “Do you want to gamble on it?”
Nicholas couldn’t help but cut his gaze to Eve. Their eyes met for a split second, and it was enough. Realization dawned on her face. “This is about me? He threatened you with something to do with me?”
No matter how much he wanted to, Nicholas couldn’t keep every ugly thing away from Eve. Especially not now that she was an adult. “Yes.”
Eve reached forward and grabbed her own cookie. “What was it?” She sounded only mildly curious, but that wasn’t surprising. If the Chandlers did anything well, it was pretending everything was fine.
“He said he would disinherit you if I didn’t stop seeing Livvy.” The words rang with accusation in the silence of the room.
“Whoa. Disinherit an innocent child? Cold.” Eve’s eyes had hardened to obsidian chips.
“You didn’t.” John’s voice rang out. Their grandfather was pale. “Brendan, tell me you didn’t say that.”
Brendan was silent. He rested his hands on the table, shoulders stooping.
Nicholas could almost pity him. For all his stomping around and machinations, Brendan wanted the world to think of him as perfect.
Eve and John eyeing him with disgust had to grate.
“If you ever disinherit either of these children, son, I will make you pay,” John rasped.
Eve nibbled at her cookie. Nicholas wasn’t fooled by her nonchalance. He’d seen that carefully controlled rage before. In his father, but in himself as well. “Nicholas, if that’s what Dad was holding over your head all these years, consider the shoe fallen.”
Brendan shifted, rallying. “I won’t tolerate the president of Chandler’s dating a Kane.”
A rush of realization and resolve swirled within Nicholas. Focused. He was so focused. “Then I won’t be the president of Chandler’s anymore. I quit.”
A crafty gleam entered his father’s eyes. “You wouldn’t sacrifice the company like that.”
It would hurt, no doubt. It would be so awfully painful to walk away from this company that had been built by his hands and the hands of men before him. He thought of the list of people sitting on his desk, every extended family member who relied on the place for their livelihood.
But he’d done enough for it. More than enough.
“I would.”
His grandfather’s measured voice came from the end of the table. It was the first time in ten years Nicholas had heard that tone from his grandfather when speaking to his father. Normally, John met his son’s coldness with impassioned heat. This time, a blast of pure frigidness came out of his mouth. “Enough, Brendan. The poor boy has suffered enough.”
“Poor? Suffered?” Brendan scoffed. “He’s had everything money can buy. He’ll inherit a multimillion-dollar company.”
“I’ve suffered,” Nicholas admitted, and saying that, acknowledging the pain he’d experienced, felt better than anything he could remember. He didn’t have to lock it up in a little box and soldier on. He could bring it out and let it grow inside him. It hurt, but it was the good kind of hurt that came with acceptance. Freedom. “I stopped seeing Livvy because I thought I had to. Because I was certain I needed to keep this company and this family together.” His laugh was short. “Look at us. You and Granddad never talk to each other without fighting. You barely acknowledge your daughter and only speak to me when you want something.”
Nicholas looked around the conference room. “Our only meals together happen in a boardroom, and we never discuss anything more than business. My initial motivation doesn’t exist anymore. There’s no family to keep together.” His voice turned ragged. “And as much as I hate the thought of the employees suffering for your and Grandpa’s temper, I can’t let that control my life anymore. Go on. Splinter this family. Kill the company. I’m done with letting you and the past and your ridiculous anger and secrets dictate my life. I gave Livvy up once for this family, for the company. I won’t again.” He came to his feet, feeling like a ton of bricks had lifted off him.
Brendan sneered. “So fucking dramatic. Come on now, Nicholas, this isn’t you. Be realistic.”
“Realistic like you, you mean? Nah. I could never be like you,” he murmured, certain of at least this much. He could never be like his father. He had too much of his mother and grandfather in him. “Besides, you weren’t being realistic, then or now. You were being vindictive and selfish.”
John cleared his throat. “Nicholas, I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t accept your resignation. What would you like us to do in order to ensure you stay?”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow while his father sputtered. He hadn’t foreseen any part of this discussion, but he certainly hadn’t anticipated bargaining his way through his resignation. He thought for a second. “Both of you need to stop squabbling like children. Since I don’t think that’s going to happen, I need you to establish an independent board of directors so I won’t have to play this ridiculous balancing act between the two of you. Plus, Dad has to learn to treat Eve and Livvy with the respect they’re owed. Or simply stay away from them, and me.” He rose, the rest of his cookie still in hand. He’d eat it on the way to Livvy’s. “You can think about it and let me know if those terms are acceptable. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk to Livvy.”
He almost made it to the elevator before Eve hailed him. She ran up to him, huffing and out of breath. “Nicholas.”
He turned, regret and sorrow hitting him. “Eve.” He glanced around, grateful the hallway was empty. “Sweetheart, I never wanted you to—”
“I know,” she interjected, and then wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him tight. “You’ve always been so good to me, and I needed shielding when I was thirteen or fourteen or fifteen. I can’t thank you enough for that. I’m an adult now, though, and if you’d just talked to me like an adult, we could have removed this obstacle for you long ago.”
He returned her hug with no reservation, absorbing her love inside of him like sunshine. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You know, I don’t know if he would have honestly written you out—”
“There’s that shielding again. You and I both know he would have done it.” She patted his back, like she was offering him comfort. “And we both know why.”
He exhaled, feeling her final words like a punch to the gut. Christ, so many secrets. He drew away and looked down at her, uncertain of what to say, unable to give voice to the suspicions he’d always harbored. Finally he settled on something unequivocally true. “I love you.”
“I love you more. I don’t think you should quit, by the way. I know mediating between those two isn’t fun, but this place makes you happy.”
“I don’t think I have to. Once Dad and Grandpa calm down, they’ll give me what I want. Who else is going to run this place?”
“Not me.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You couldn’t pay me enough to do your job. Or work at the foundation, actually. I really do want to quit. I hate it there.”
“Eve, you can do whatever the hell you want with your life, and I’ll help you.”
She blinked up at him like she’d expected more of an argument. “Okay.”
He shoved his thumb at the elevator. “I have to go.”
“Oh! Yes. Yes, go.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m very happy Livvy makes you happy. If there’s anything I can do to assist with that . . . well. I’d like to make up for my previous behavior in any way I can.”
Nicholas had thought his father would be the big boss he fought at the end of the game, but now he knew Brendan wasn’t the problem. The biggest struggle, getting Livvy to see how good they could be together, was ahead of him. “I’ll let you know. For now, keep your fingers crossed.”
She showed him her crossed fingers and he smiled tightly. If only it could be that easy. But when had Livvy ever made anything easy? No, she would be difficult and troublesome and contrary.
As the elevator doors closed, he popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth and brushed the crumbs from his hands, uncaring about the mess he was making. Luckily, he could be just as stubborn.
SOMETIMES THERE was a very thin line between dumb and romantic.
Nicholas eyed the trellis on the east side of Tani Kane’s house. At her old home, Livvy had a tree right outside her bedroom window, a huge oak Nicholas had grown intimately familiar with. This trellis wasn’t much different. Except he’d been a lean kid then, not a much bigger man with a creaky knee.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tried calling her again, cursing softly when it went right to voicemail. He’d sent texts too, for the past few hours. All of them had gone unanswered.
He glared up at the window. It was getting dark, so hopefully the neighbors wouldn’t notice him casing the place and call the cops. Her car was in the driveway. Maybe if he could get her attention? He picked up a rock, then hesitated, staring at it. It was a big rock. What if he ended up breaking the window? He couldn’t imagine that would endear him to Tani.
Knock on the door.
Wouldn’t it be better to talk to Livvy before introducing the rest of their families into the mix? She wouldn’t be concentrating on them if she was worried about everyone else. And damn it, for once he wanted them both to only be concerned with themselves.
He dropped the rock and stared grimly at the trellis before giving it a good shake. Seems sturdy.
Livvy’s sardonic tone whispered in his ear. Now you’re a trellis structural engineer, huh?
Nicholas grabbed ahold of the wood, grimacing at the dirt. He hoisted himself up, halting when the thing gave a fraction of an inch beneath his weight. Dying like this would be mortifying.
He placed his hand on the next rung carefully, trying to avoid the thorns there. He’d gotten about two feet off the ground when a throat cleared behind him. “Olivia isn’t home.”
He dropped his head for a second. Dying like this might have been less mortifying than being caught like this.
Not seeing any way past it, he crawled back down the trellis and hopped to the ground, surreptitiously wiping his hands on his pants legs before turning to speak to the small woman behind him.
He hadn’t seen Tani since the night he’d rushed into his father’s office to try to stop her from signing away the business. She’d been pale then, her eyes vacant, the skin below them bruised. She’d looked right through him.
She seemed smaller now, more fragile, and not only because of the cane she was leaning on. She’d always dressed in fashionably expensive dresses, but today she wore soft pink pajamas, tennis shoes on her feet.
Losing her hadn’t created the hole in his life losing Paul or Livvy had, but it had been a loss nonetheless.
He straightened and met her dark gaze. “Hello, Tani.”
“Nicholas.” She shifted her weight. “One would think you would have learned to use a doorbell in the past ten years.”
“Uh.”
“It’s been at least that long since I’ve seen you creeping into my daughter’s room.”
Busted. Busted from years ago, it seemed. Nicholas’s smile was more of a grimace. “Uh.”
Tani’s lips curved, but her eyes were pitiless. “Each generation thinks it’s far more clever than the generation before it, doesn’t it?”
He tucked his hands in his pockets, trying not to feel like a chastened nineteen-year-old caught by his girlfriend’s parent. “I’m sorry, Tani.”
“Sorry for what? For disrespecting me and my husband by crawling into our daughter’s bedroom when you were both young?”
He winced. “Ah, yes.”
“Hmm.” She pivoted, leaning heavily on the cane. “Follow me.”
It wasn’t an invitation, but an order. Her cane was sinking into the ground, so he tried to walk closer to her, in case she fell, but she seemed fairly surefooted.
They rounded the house, and he took in the modest backyard. As unfair as Nicholas had found the takeover, he’d taken some comfort in knowing the money she’d received from it and the estate was enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life, with proper investment.
She led him to a well-built back porch where a larger woman dressed in a blue dress, tights, and a matching fleece sat on the white wicker furniture. The other woman raised an eyebrow at spotting him. “That walk you took came with a souvenir, I see, Tani.”
“I found him trying to break and enter.”
He nodded at Maile, his face heating again. “Hello, Ms. Maile.”
She settled back in her chair. “Boy.”
Mentally, he resigned himself to an awkward delay in finding Livvy.
Tani gestured to a seat to the left of Maile, and then took her own seat to the right once he sat down. He glanced back and forth at the two women he was sandwiched between. They stared at him, but their faces gave nothing away.
Finally Maile spoke. “So. You’re seeing Livvy again.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry you had to find out this way—”
“We knew before you almost broke my trellis.” Tani pursed her lips and poured a cup of coffee from the press in the center of the table.
Maile leaned to look around him. “How did you know?”
“Please. I know everything. Like I knew about this one sneaking into Livvy’s room years ago.”
Maile grinned. “I do like you, sister.”
“You never said anything then,” he said cautiously.
“If she’d been younger, I probably would have intervened. But the way you two looked at each other . . .” She shrugged. “I assumed if you weren’t sneaking into my home, you’d be sneaking off together somewhere. I kept it from Robert. Livvy’s father—” She cut herself off and cast him a wary glance.
He gestured for her to continue. “I’m fine. What about Robert?”
Her shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. “Robert would have killed you. Olivia was his baby girl.”
“Thanks for not letting me die. I’m sorry we did what we did.”
“Are you?”
“No,” he admitted, with brutal honesty. “I’m sorry you knew, though.”
Maile’s laugh was deep. “You always were an honest boy.”
He accepted the mug of coffee Tani shoved at him, though he didn’t want it. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t necessarily a compliment. It would have been nice if you’d been a little less honest sometimes.”
The bite in the words didn’t startle Nicholas. He welcomed them. “I hurt Livvy back then. I know that.”
“One of the few things I remember about that time,” Tani said quietly, “was walking past Livvy’s bedroom and seeing Jackson holding her while she wailed on the floor. That was the day you ended your relationship, I believe.”
His heart shredded, imagining his Livvy sobbing after leaving him in those woods, with only her twin to comfort her. I don’t care what that idiot burned down. I will owe you forever for that, Jackson. “Tell me,” he managed.
Maile shifted. “Tell you what?”
“Tell me how bad it was for her. I have to . . . I have to make up for every tear she shed.”
“Because you pity her?”
He shook his head. “I only want to make up for my mistake.”
“And what was your mistake, Nicholas?”
He turned back to Tani. “I gave up.” Their path had been so open and easy before that. A crown prince and princess merrily walking hand-in-hand. The royal family, before the villain arrived and threw the realm into chaos.
“Do you think the outcome would have been different if you hadn’t given up?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I want to try again.”
“The obstacles are gone now?”
He thought of his father. “No. But I’m better prepared to handle them. Him.”
“Your father doesn’t approve,” Tani guessed.
“Would you approve?” he hedged.
“No. I think you’ll hurt her again.”
Fair concern. “I won’t.”
“Have you told Brendan you’ve been seeing Livvy?”
“Yes,” he responded.
She raised an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine he was pleased,” she replied with the kind of sardonic air that came from someone who knew Brendan well.
“He wasn’t. My grandfather and sister gave their blessing, though.”
Tani’s hand jerked, tapping her mug. It jostled but didn’t spill. “John?”
“Yes. He holds no ill will against any of you. He never has.”
A yearning need filled Tani’s eyes, and she took a sip of her coffee, her hand trembling. When she put the cup down, she looked away. He wanted to wait for her to compose herself, but the clock was ticking. He needed to find out where Livvy was and get to her before she had more time to dwell on all the reasons they couldn’t be together.
“He didn’t want my father to buy you out. Neither did I. That was a shitty deal Brendan gave you.”
“It was.” A smile played over Tani’s lips, surprising him. “I don’t resent you or your father for that deal.”
“You weren’t in the right state of mind to—”
“Don’t tell me my own state of mind,” she said, forestalling him with quiet dignity.
“Yes, ma’am.” He shoved his mug away. “My grandfather would probably like to see you. He’s not getting any younger.”
Her sigh was deep and long. “None of us are.”
He was well aware of that, acutely conscious of every second and minute and hour he had already lost with Livvy. “Can you please tell me where Livvy is?”
There was a long silence. Just when Nicholas was ready to get up, Maile spoke. “Her brother is in town.”
Tani made a small sound, and Maile cast her a sympathetic look and named a hotel. “I assume she went to see him.”
He nodded and pushed back his chair. “Thank you.”
“It won’t be easy,” Maile warned.
“We can make it work.”
“I mean getting her back.”
A cold sensation ran down his spine. “I know. I’m confident, though. I’ll tell her how much she means to me. Then and now.”
“And you think that’s all she needs to hear?” Maile’s words were cruel, but her tone was gentle, as if she were delivering a necessary stab wound. “That you decided you want to be with her, and she’ll fall in your arms?”
He remained silent, and Tani picked up a sketchpad and a pencil.
“Good luck,” she said.
Nicholas wasn’t sure if that sentiment was sincere or not, but it didn’t matter. He’d take every well wish he could.