Page 119 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

“No. Some people just hire them to write shitty articles about their own business,” I jab, and this time he nods.

“True, true. But in fairness, Scarlett actually refused to give a dishonest review. She said if the experience was amazing, that’s what she was going to write. The fact that you fucked up her stay only worked to my advantage,” he says with a grin.

I take another sip of my beer.

Then he sobers again. “It hasn’t been easy for me either, you know,” he says.

“You sure make it look easy,” I say back.

“We all cope in different ways. You hide in the dark,”

“And you YOLO your way around resorts ignoring your responsibilities,” I say.

“And now you see just how heavy those responsibilities are. I can’t keep up with them. Nobody can. Do you know what it’s like stepping into the resorts and being told you’ll never be him?”

“Actually, as of late, I do know. I know exactly what it’s like to be held to his standard.”

“It fucking sucks,” he lets out.

“It does,” I agree. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”

Conrad doesn’t look too convinced. But I never give up easily.

“Listen,” I say, setting my beer down on the counter and leveling with him. “Right now, it’s us against the media. They’re having a heyday watching us destroy each other. We’re standing on a crumbling foundation here. But it’s our fault it’s crumbling. We’ve let our grief and angst rip everything they gave us apart. We have to work together. It’s the only way Bale will survive. Neither of us can do it alone.”

Conrad stares at me before tipping his head up in my direction. “So you’re admitting that I’m not a failure?” he asks.

“I don’t think either of us are. But both of us will be if we don’t clean up the mess.”

Again, he’s quiet, thinking about that. It’s a Hail Mary for sure. We haven’t worked together on anything since we were kids. Pretty sure the last time was when we were trying to build a sandcastle big enough that we could walk inside it. In the end, we both almost buried ourselves alive, but at least we were working as a team.

“Alright. We can have peace talks,” he says, before going to the fridge again and grabbing two more beers. “But first, you have to tell me everything.”

“Everything?” I ask.

“About her,” he says and I just blink.

“There’s nothing to tell anymore. It’s over,” I say, reaching for the new beer, but he snags it away from me.

“Oh, come on. There’s a story there. You can’t have a one-night stand and then hire the girl and swipe her bucket list and there not be a story. Spill it.”

It isn’t until I start talking that he hands me the beer again and sits down. And I tell him everything. Start to finish. Even the things I didn’t want him to know.

By the time I’m done, my second beer is half gone and I feel like a filleted fish, heart still beating.

“Damn,” he says. “So you fell in love.”

“I didn’t say that,” I snap back.

“Not in so many words. But I knew it anyway. Those photos showed sides of you I haven’t seen in years. I doubt it’s just because she’s a really good photographer.”

Once again, he’s not wrong. It’s a new pattern that I’m not fully used to yet.

“Yeah, she definitely created something new in me,” I say vacantly, but Conrad shakes his head.

“Not created. It was there before. It had just been dormant for a long time. Honestly, I used to think if I was wild enough for both of us, maybe that part of you would come back to life.”

I don’t really know what to say to that. So I just nod.