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Grateful to be in my presence.
I want the one who challenges me every opportunity she’s given and encourages me to step away from work to enjoy life.
Shows me how that’s done.
Can be fun.
“That’ll be all Miss Penny,” Clark calmly dismisses, stare relocating to her. “I will meet you in the aquarium for our daily check of pumps, filters, and lights, momentarily.”
Another round of nods is executed prior to her scurrying out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Once we’re alone, the man my parents trusted more than anyone else in their lives, presents me with a firm yet sympathetic expression. “You cannot have it both ways, Weston.”
An unpredicted lull spreads across the space between us.
Settles heavily on my shoulders.
Chest.
Crushes the air out of my lungs.
“You cannot hide from the past while trying to build a future.”
Room for a rebuttal is granted, yet it isn’t given.
I don’t have one.
His point – much like my best friend’s – is valid.
Right.
Clark offers me one final chin tip and quietly leaves like the others.
Rather than open the package likely containing a new object for my collection, I carelessly toss it onto the table, accidentally knocking around the stacked papers, revealing a familiar item that significantly deepens the agony lingering in my stomach.
The word search booklet we pass back and forth between responsibilities like love notes no one else understands but us sinks me further into my seat.
Perhaps it’s time to reevaluate the labels I’ve put on myself.
And, more importantly, perhaps it’s time to remind Bryn of the non-negotiable one she already agreed to bear.
Chapter 16
Brynley
Aleksei Faulk, head of the social event design team for Wilcox Whiskey, winds his warm beige shaded fingers around the edge of the leather seat in front of him and purrs, “Now, walk in for me like you will that night.”
From the doorway at the opposite end of the room, I give my hair a sexy ruffle and sashay into the space as though I’m walking a runaway in my lacy black and skin-tone colored mini rather than the freshly polished floors of Fire & Ash. “Evening, Gentlemen.” Pausing confidently in the middle of the space precedes me seductively wetting my lips. “My name is Brynley and I’ll be bringing you pleasure this evening.”
Aleksei practically humps the chair in front of him. “Perfect.”
“Is it?” J.T. nervously questions from the nearby bench seat. “Because I’m getting high class escort vibes from your preferred phrasing, which is not the standard of the Wilcox Whiskey brand.”
“I’m getting exclusivity,” counters Aleksei with a quirked brow. “And isn’t that what our brand is all about?”
Grumbles of surrender are poorly hidden behind the beverage he’s slowly been sipping on for the past two and a half hours.
It’s not like I can’t get him a refill, or he doesn’t want one.
