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“I’d argue they don’t steal.”
“I’m not talking about money, Magnus. I mean the quirkiness of little places. Unique pieces of the world that make it up.”
She’s wrong, but she’s smart, I’ll give her that. But her stubbornness can’t just be from her bias against big business. Big business gets her books to her on time. It keeps things running. Creates jobs. And I have a heart. It’s just not bleeding and soft like hers. Which reminds me, I need to check on my charities and non-profits. Maybe I’ll add a school reading program to my list, to help underprivileged kids. I can name it after her.
“People like convenience.”
She nods and looks out over the east side and Tompkins Square Park that’s across from us. “You sound like my ex.”
“Uh oh.”
“Bronn’s not part of my world and I should have known it.”
I stare at her. “Bronn? As in Bronn Lichtenfeld?”
The words are out before I can stop them and her face swings up and she frowns. “How…”
“I think my marketing firm once did a campaign for his.” The Lichtenfelds are in big business. Banking. But they also snap up properties. All kinds. They don’t care about what they’re doing. They’re the quintessential amassers of fortune by sheer number and they’ve always wanted a piece of my family’s pie. Get a slice of Sinclair reputation and it’s easier to make some questionable investments and purchases in less than stellar environmental circles look better.
That’s the thought, anyway. I’ve never liked Bonn and how he handles his father’s company. Comparisons have been made with his philandering ways and Ryder. But that’s all they are.
Ryder likes women. A lot of women. He plays fast and loose and no one’s gonna pin him down, but when it comes to business, he’s scrupulous—his way.
But it puts little Zoey in a different light. The fact he went for her. I didn’t think he had it in him to see quality over flash.
“Yeah, well, he’s cut from the same cloth as this Sinclair monster,” she says darkly. “Probably cheats on her, too.”
And there we have it. But while I might go in for the kill, soft Magnus with the ailing, and probably by now on life support, gran wouldn’t. He’d be kind and supportive and digging all the information he can in a different way.
“Asshole.”
“Exactly.” Her shoulders deflate. “It’s a long time ago, college, but we were on and off for a few years after. That was me, not him, because I didn’t want his life, and he wanted the jets, the high rolling fancy restaurants. I just wanted someone who could be with me. Maybe love me. That was not him.”
I sigh and nod and wonder if Magnus should have a wound of the heart, too. “And it still hurts.”
“No. He’s a jerk. Suzanne thinks I’m still hung up, but I’m not. I dumped him. He cheated and lied and I don’t play with that. He didn’t get my little store, and he thought a gift to me would be to raze it to the ground, put up a chain bookshop so I could play at running it, and that was my final straw.”
I look at her. Stare.
Zoey Smith.
Little, unassuming Zoey Smith.
She’s something else.
“You dumped him over the store and not the other women?”
“Well, that didn’t help.” She gives me a small, rueful smile that, in the shadowy light on this roof top spot, lets her pretty face bloom into something more than I first saw. Like this, with that smile, that self-knowledge and utter artless way she has, makes her beautiful.
“Anyway, Suzanne has a mission to test any man I bring along to make sure he’s not the same kind of cheating asshole, and then she bugs me because I don’t have time for men. I dated a bit, but it’s just hard with the store.”
“Is it that important?”
“Yes.”
Fire burns in her eyes and something in me stirs.
“I get it.” I do, but what I get is far more important than a stupid crumbling store. My important is world’s away from hers. Mine is about changing the world, not selling moldy books.
