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Dalton, Evie, and I joined her out of solidarity, and it ended up being way more impactful than I could have imagined. Getting to hang out with kids from the same neighborhoods that Kara and I grew up in spread the message that even though the odds are heavily stacked against them, they can still get out. Unsurprisingly, that message was better received coming from the famous DJ, but some of them listened to me too. Right now I have a solid amount of kids from the program working at the event, and with my tutelage and connections bolstering their natural talent, I know they’ll go on to do great things for themselves and their communities.
So though the case ultimately ended up okay, it was clear by July that there was no way the Seafarer was going to be sailing by August. The month came and went while we were embroiled in the courts and before long, the prime season was over. My market value crashed. I was in danger of losing the company. The unthinkable had finally happened.
But as so often happens when our worst fears come true, the reality ended up being very different from those sweaty 1 a.m. anxieties. I got through it, and the troubles were made infinitely easier with Evie and my new friends by my side.
My advisers told me to sink the Seafarer. Not literally, of course, but to sell it to a competitor. I rejected the plan. Not only would it barely make even, but I’d be damned if I saw my beautiful ship sailing the seas with Mickey Mouse behind the wheel.
So, in true Nick Madison fashion, I did the opposite of what everyone said: I sold everything else.
I sold all of my company’s development projects and downsized immensely, making sure to give all my employees incredibly generous dismissal packages. I hope most of them will come back once I expand in the cruise department. They’ll certainly receive invitations.
It also means that I had to sell the downtown office with its giant glass fishbowl office. Gone too is the penthouse apartment on Central Park. Getting rid of both was a relief. They no longer represented the man I wanted to be, the man I was working to become. Cold impersonality works when you’re trying to rid yourself of all emotions.
But now? Now I know the power of them.
Evie and I moved to a different penthouse in the Village. It’s in a neighborhood where the buildings aren’t skyscrapers. We have a large terrace with a beautiful view of the surrounding city and lots of light that shines on the hardwood floors and house plants. It’s a comfortable place to come home to, where I can set aside the worries of work and lie in the sun with my beauty as we read our respective books, or collapse into bed together, tangling in the sheets as we urge each other toward pleasure again and again.
But even that is changing now.
“There you are,” a voice says behind me. “Kara’s looking for you.”
It’s Jack. My little brother is dressed well, with a fresh haircut and an easy smile. It’d been a hard year for him too, a difficult transition into adulthood as he debates what he wants to do with his life. It feels like he changes his mind every other day, but I’m just happy that he’s thinking about it. He didn’t move back in with me, continuing to stay with a friend in Brooklyn and working at a dispensary. But we get lunch once a week, and every month I take him to see Dad. I never go into the visiting area with him. Some relationships can’t be mended until both parties want it to. I’m not there yet, and I doubt Dad will ever be. But I go for Jack. So he doesn’t have to do it alone. It’s the very least I can do.
“Of course,” I say, clasping his outstretched hand. “Last-minute notes on the speaker quality?”
“Something like that,” Jack says. “What are you doing up here alone?”
“Just looking at it all,” I say. “Thinking about how I got here.”
“It’s been a trip, all right.”
“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” I ask him, leaning on the rail and putting my foot up on it.
“No way,” he says with a grin. “I’d miss the city too much. I don’t know how you’re gonna do it.”
I shrug. “We’ll see. Might be nice.”
“Are you still gonna—” His eyes travel past my face and land on something behind me. “Speak of the devil.”
I turn and there she is. My Evie. Blonde hair spilling free down the open back of a black party dress that skirts the tricky line between professional and here to party.
Jack slaps me on the back and says, “I’ll see ya on the dance floor, bro.” He leaves with a friendly nod to Evie, who joins me at the railing.
Evie wraps her arm around me and leans her head against my chest, fitting perfectly into place like we were built for each other. “Ready to have a good time?” she asks.
“Now I am,” I say. I lean down and kiss her, and she kisses me back, but there’s something wrong. A tension in her face that I can feel rather than see.
I pull back and look down at her curiously. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Are you sure about this trip?” she asks.
“Are you not?”
As owner of the Seafarer I want a front row seat of the maiden voyage. Tonight we’re finally hosting the concert that Evie pitched me so long ago, a ride around Manhattan with Kara’s beats, meant to draw interest and ticket sales. Next month will be the official launch that sails to the Caribbean, and Evie and I had planned to be on it. And afterward? Well, Evie is now helming all my advertising for the cruise ships, and my workload is quartered now that I’m just focusing on one industry. We deserve a little vacation, a little break. And I want to get away from the city. I want to look out my window and see more than my past.
“It’s just…” Evie turns away from me. There’s real confliction on her face, the likes of which I haven’t seen since that horrible night in my old penthouse when she walked out my door and we both thought it was goodbye.
“What’s the matter, Evie?” I ask. A thousand nightmare situations are coursing through my mind. Illness. Cold feet. A vengeful Brent, furious that Cheryl left him and that Dax made his client list follow suit, blackmailing her.
