Page 93 of Manhattan Bossholes

Irreplaceable.

I was familiar with someone like that.

“You know how it looked from the outside, right?” I asked him. “All of those relationships made it seem like you never took marriage seriously at all—like love was never more than a temporary whim that ran its course and then disappeared.”

He let his head fall back against the pillow. “I know. Your old man just can’t stop making mistakes.” He sat up and locked onto me. “I’m hoping you didn’t inherit that tendency from me.”

I’d been gifted with my father’s head for business, his drive, and even his looks, but the idea that this desperate, needy part of him was within me as well was a concept I couldn’t stomach.

I was more comfortable standing alone. The insecurity of giving your heart away? That sounded horrifying. I wasn’t about to open myself up to the same sort of brokenhearted bullshit my dad went through.

“She loved me too, you know,” he continued. “So much. Seems funny to think about it now, given how I’m just a footnote in her life. But back in the beginning?” He let out a low whistle. “We were something else. We’d stay in bed for days.”

“Dad, come on,” I complained. “I don’t need to hear that stuff.”

He chuckled. “It wasn’t just the amazing sex. We were a team, you know? We viewed the world the same way. We could finish each other’s sentences. She walked me to the door every damn day and sent me on my way with a hug and a kiss, then was there waiting for me with more when I got home.” His expression darkened. “But time does things to a relationship. Summit kept growing. I needed to focus on it completely to keep up with the momentum. Your mom understood, but then I started pulling away from her. Not because I wanted to. Because I thought I had to, especially once you were born. I’d watched my own father retreat into his work. I thought that was what you did—that was what it meant to be a provider. And now you know how that turned out for me.”

A nurse bustled in to take his vitals, giving us both a chance to breathe. The second she left, my dad was back at it.

“I’m begging you, Vincent. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Based on the way Piper was acting, I’m assuming you were the one to end things. I want you to think long and hard about that. You were good together—I saw it with my own eyes. And she’s special. Just like your mother.”

I stared down at my hands. He was right: Piper was unlike anyone I’d known before. But true to my legacy, I’d fucked it all up.

“Dad, she’s done with me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he said. “She’s hurting, but she still cares for you. So go to her and tell her you were an asshole but you’ve seen the light, and you’ll do anything to make it right between you.” He paused as pain flooded his face. “I don’t want you to end up like me.”

I reached over to squeeze his arm. He pulled me into a bear hug and slapped me on the back. Damn. It was exactly what I needed.

“Go get your girl,” he whispered in my ear. “Before it’s too late.”

28

PIPER

“Pinch me,” Darcy said as she kicked up her feet on her new desk. “Is this real life?”

“You sitting and me working feels very real life to me,” I joked as I broke down a cardboard box.

“Don’t you dare,” she scolded me. “This is the first time I’ve taken a break in three days.”

“Totally kidding. You’ve been incredible.”

I plopped into the roller chair in the middle of our brand-new office. Setting up was taking longer than expected, but we’d both been having a blast easing into our new space. The brick-walled former garment district cutting room was bigger than we thought we needed, but Mercedes had convinced us we’d grow into it way quicker than we expected. The order just in from Italy was taking up plenty of space, and we weren’t even operating at full capacity yet.

My professional life was at an all-time high. I was so busy I didn’t have time to think about the nightmare that was my personal life.

“You ready to head out for a quick bite?” Darcy asked. “I’m starving.”

“Not yet. I have a couple of emails to send, plus I want to hang my photos. I picked them up from the framers today.”

“Oh, let me help then,” Darcy said. “Where’s the toolbox?”

“Stop it. I know you’re meeting that bartender later tonight; you don’t have to hide it from me. Go home and start getting ready.”

“I just feel bad going out on a date,” she sighed. “I hate what that asshole did to you, and that it went down right as our dreams were coming true.” She swept her hand around the space.

“I’m totally fine,” I lied. “Better to figure it out now, before I got too wrapped up in his bullshit. Work is a great distraction.”