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“She’s getting married.”
“Huh? Who are you talking about,” he says as he sits down in the leather chair in front of my desk. I toss him the paper.
“Declan Blair. Damn, she hit the jackpot.”
“He’s fucking over twenty years her senior.”
“Money makes up for the age gap.”
“Fuck you, Lucian. You’re not helping,” I growl.
“I thought you were over her?”
“Do you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Because you’re always telling me that fucking women who look like Lana is not going to bring her back, right?”
“Yeah, I guess I do. It’s been over five years.”
“Would you be able to get over Olivia if she left you?”
“No, and I didn’t. I don’t know where I’d be if we weren’t together.”
“Probably back in that fucking cabin.”
“So, what is your plan?”
“Plan?”
“Zane, I’ve known you long enough to know those gears are turning in that head of yours. I can’t believe that you just found out she was with Declan Blair.”
“You knew?”
“It was splashed all over one of those raggy tabloids and on Entertainment Tonight a few months ago.”
“First off, you watch that shit, and second, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Olivia watches that stuff and insists that I buy those tabloids, so she has something to read while Vincent is sleeping. She said she couldn’t read the classics all day. I didn’t tell you because there is nothing you can do. What would you have done if I told you? Run to wherever she was and beg her forgiveness?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t be a fool. You’re rich in your own right. Move the fuck on already.”
“I can’t,” I mumble.
“Look, I got over the devastating loss of Cassie. You can get over this.”
“But that’s different. Cassie was gone. Lana is alive, but I can’t have her.”
“You’re making me fucking crazy. Is this all I’m going to hear about now?”
“No. I have work to do.”
“I’m taking this fucking paper with me. The last thing you need is Lana staring you in the face.”
“Take it and get those finance reports to me this afternoon.”
