Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“What business do you have with Keely and Jamila?” he presses.
“They’re opening a donut shop. It looks quite nice and I think they’ll be a big success.” I sip my whiskey, delaying. I can tell it annoys him. “I want a piece of it.”
“You’re shaking them down?” His eyes widen.
“I bought the building they’re renting. It wasn’t hard to figure out which one Keely would go for. Then I waited until they were nearly finished with the renovations—”
“I don’t want to know how you’re shaking them down,” he says, practically growling at me. “I want to know why.”
I push the chair back and stand. His eyes track me as I walk across the room, looking at the pictures in frames set up among the expensive bric-a-brac. Golden ships in bottles, an old WWII pistol, a real piece of the Berlin wall. Remnants of our father.
“I like Keely,” I say at last. “But more than that, I need to expand outside of our normal circles. You have the main family business. Finn has his wife and kids. Liam’s Liam. But I’ve been lost in all of this, not sure how I fit into the picture.”
“You think shaking down a donut shop’s going to give you purpose?”
“I think it’s a start.” I turn to face him. Carson rubs his face, clearly frustrated. “You don’t agree.”
“I think you’re going to hurt Keely. And if you hurt Keely, you hurt Ash. And if you hurt Ash—”
“You’re going to go full-on gorilla and try to kill me?”
His stare is flat. “Something like that.”
I dismiss him with a crude gesture. “You’re a little too in love with that wife of yours.”
“You have no idea.” He leans forward, palms on the desk. “Leave Keely alone. I’ll buy you out if that’s what you want. Let the girls work this out on their own.”
“They need me,” I say, shaking my head. “That place is one bad decision away from disaster and they haven’t even opened yet. Besides, Keely doesn’t even know who Jamila is—”
“And she doesn’t need to,” Carson says, interrupting me. “I’m well aware of Jamila’s family. They don’t matter.”
“We both know they will.”
Carson’s jaw works. “You think you can protect Keely from that? Those girls are close. They’ll figure it out.”
“You know I can.” I approach his desk. “This isn’t some passing idea. I’ve thought it through. I want a piece of this business. I want to help them make it work. Call it… call it a personal project.”
Carson’s silent for a moment. He looks like he might explode at any moment. But finally, he cocks his head. “You like her, don’t you? Ever since our wedding.”
“Vow renewal,” I correct. “And yes. I do. But it isn’t all about that.”
Carson leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “If you hurt Keely, you will answer directly to me. Do you understand? I will not have this blow back on Ash. My wife will be insulated from your bullshit. Do you hear me?”
I struggle to keep my temper. Carson used to be my closest friend—he used to be my brother.
Now all he cares about is that wife of his.
I like Ash. I really do. I don’t blame her for any of this. But sometimes, I wish Carson weren’t such an obsessed dickhead.
“Keely will be fine,” I say, turning away from him. “Now, is that all? Or do I have to wait to be dismissed?”
“Don’t be a prick, Nolan.”
“I’m going to say hello to Mother now.”
“Good. Come have dinner tomorrow tonight. Finn’s bringing the family.”
“Fine.” I glance back at him.
But he’s already flipping through some files.
Once, not too long ago, we would’ve shared a drink together, talked about our day.
Now, I’m a problem to be solved.
I shake my head and leave his office.
Chapter 8
Keely
I check my phone twice to make sure I got the right place before shoving it back into my bag. I’m standing outside of an old red-brick Boston row home in the Back Bay neighborhood, about as bougie and expensive as it gets. I feel out of place, like any second someone’s going to descend from a nearby stoop and sneer as the police drag me back to where I belong.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself.
It took a lot of courage to ask Ash for Nolan’s home address. She wondered what I needed it for, and I told her a lie. I said it was a booty call.
Which is better than what I’m really doing here though I’m pretty sure I’ll never hear the end of her teasing.
I walk up the steps and knock on the door. It’s big and black with gold accents. Nolan doesn’t strike me as a black-door kind of guy—that feels too chic—he’s more of a wood-and-iron sort of man, something hard and austere, but still pricey. I knock again, starting to wilt under the pressure of waiting, and a piece of me hopes he’s not home.