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But you can't hide from reality forever, and when I leave to get some food for Clarissa, I check my phone to see more than fifty messages and voicemails waiting for me.
Good.
They deserve to stew. I'm not sure I'm even ready to hear what they have to say now.
Being unplugged gave me time to spend with her, focus only on her. And for a little while, we were without inhibitions, without the baggage of the past, without answering to anyone and anything. And it had been the most fun I'd had in as long as I can remember.
She is intelligent, smart as a whip, with a sting just as fatal. She can talk on any topic I bring up, sometimes to test her knowledge, sometimes just wanting to know what she thinks about things. She took to business fast, probably helped by growing up in a family with a fortune of almost 80 million dollars and being twice engaged to my brother. She might not have sat in on board meetings, but she'd listened and learned. And now was using it to run her business.
Last night, she'd talked about dreams for the club, for the future, with a gleam and glint in her eye, and made me wish and wonder whether or not I'd see them come to fruition.
And when I talked about mine, she listened, asked insightful questions, and I couldn't help wondering if she was seeing herself in them as well.
Somehow, she had gone from a dark mark in my family's past, to a shimmer, not yet taking form, in my future.
And how it happened, I may never know.
I only know that now, having only left her side five minutes ago, I ache to be near her again.
My brother was a fucking fool.
He is so happy now, but could he have actually had a fulfilling relationship with Clarissa if he'd just opened himself up to it?
Jealousy streaks through me like a lightning bolt.
The thought that my brother had once touched her irrationally burns.
I've been jealous of my brothers before, but not over women. Until now, we have never shared even a glance at the same woman. None of us were ever interested in relationships, which made it easy never to fall for the same woman.
But it turns out... it just took the right woman.
It took Clarissa.
I order two breakfast burritos and coffees. And step outside to go through my messages.
Voicemail and texts from Kingsley and Kylian. Not surprisingly, there's nothing from Damien.
Kingsley's messages only say to call him. That we need to talk.
Kylian's messages are... well, Kylian-ish. Ranging from"What the fuck, dude?"to"Tell me something about yourself that no one else would know so I know it's really you"to"What do you think your smooshed together name is going to be "Mattarissa? Clarrias? Your children are going to be so confused when they see their Uncle Damien's photos with their mother."
None of it helpful. But he rarely is. God gave him a brilliant brain with the worst case of adult ADHD I've ever seen in person. He's like an energizer bunny on meth. Brilliant and bouncy.
I dial Kingsley's number. Maybe he's still in New York, who knows. It's eight a.m. in Hong Kong and Kylian's probably already in a morning meeting.
Do I know what I'm going to say? No. Is there anything he can say that might change my mind? Maybe before Clarissa and I slept together. Now? I can't imagine a single thing.
He picks up on the first ring and the conversation goes as well as any reasonable person might have expected. A lot of"do you know what you're doing"and"I don't think this is the right thing to do even for the IPO. We can work something else out."But the one that is hardest to handle, and the one that I've been telling myself since this whole business started is"You can understand why Damien's not going to be okay with this."
I do understand.
But just as I understood when he decided to follow his heart, I'm going to expect that he does the same for me.
I hang up with Kingsley with the promise that the four of us will talk soon.
Although I don't know what else can be said.
I know them as well as they know me. None of us have ever been convinced to change our mind once it's been made up, and I made it clear my mind is stuck on Clarissa.
