The Billionaire's Gamble

Chapter 22

To saythat Kara’s pop-up concert in Washington Square Park is a success is a massive understatement.

She’d posted on her social media platforms in a code that apparently made sense to those “in the know”. I have to take her word for it. I’m definitely not young or hip enough to decipher it. But that doesn’t matter because those who are, do. And hopefully somewhere in this mob of teenagers and college students is Nick’s little brother.

Nick and I are standing with Mickey just beneath the iconic arch. Initially it was a good place to keep an eye on everything, but now the crowd has gotten so large that it’s impossible to make out individual faces, and more people are pouring onto the green every minute.

Once Kara starts playing, we’ll be racing against the clock to find Jack before the cops break it all up.

Nick had picked Mickey and me up from my apartment in his private car. He looked like he hadn’t slept, probably out all night again looking for Jack just in case the plan doesn’t work.

He’s wearing a suit, which was expected, and a backpack, which was not. I’d asked him about it, but he’d only shrugged and winked. As curious as I am, I could tell that he was going to be stubborn. Whatever it is will have to wait until he’s ready to share it with me.

There’s no time to wonder about the backpack though. What had started as a trickle is now a flood, everyone desperate to be in the park by the time the clock strikes 5:53 (which is apparently a nod to Kara’s next album).

“I think we should split up,” Mickey says, craning her neck and trying to stand on tiptoes to see over the people.

“Good idea,” I say. I try to sound positive, but I’m starting to get worried. The park is huge. Even if Jack or his friends are here, we might never find them in time.

I glance at Nick. His jaw is clenched. He’s obviously thinking the same thing.

“Hey,” I say, putting a hand on his arm. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find him.”

Nick opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, a familiar voice cuts him off.

“Hey, Evie! Nick!”

Suddenly out of the crowd comes Dalton, leading a pack of friendly faces. It’s the Krew! They’re suntanned from their week in Ibiza and bursting with excitement at seeing us again.

“Oh my god!” I say, hugging Tori and LaToya, then the rest of the members I’d grown to really care about in the short but life-changing time we’d spent in Europe. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Kara recruited us, of course,” Tori says.

“We heard you have a missing brother to find,” LaToya adds. “Knowing the crowds Kara pulls, we figured you needed all the help you could get.”

“You weren’t wrong,” I say.

I look up at Nick, who hasn’t said anything. He’s looking at the Krew strangely, seriously, almost sadly. But then he shakes it off and clasps hands with Dalton, slapping him on the back and whispering something in the younger man’s ear that makes him grin.

I don’t know what he said, but Dalton replies, “You know, there was a lot of downtime in Ibiza, and then one thing led to another…” He doesn’t have to continue.

Nick sends Dalton a photo of Jack that gets shared in the Krew’s group chat, and it’s in the knick of time because just then Kara’s voice shouts over the crowd, “WHAT IS UP MY DARLINGS?”

Her fans roar back and the bass drops, reverberating up through the ground as the crowd starts to jump as one.

The Krew disperses, each going to their assigned corner of the park. Nick starts to leave too, but I run to catch him, grabbing his hand.

Before he can react, I stand on my toes and kiss him lightly on the lips. “For luck,” I say.

Nick looks down at me for a long second, that same sad-serious expression in his deep brown eyes, and then, without a word, he’s gone, disappearing into the jumping, dancing crowd.

Okay. I’m on a mission, and by god I’m going to find that kid even if I get trampled doing so. It probably won’t come to that though. I’ve been given a less crowded quadrant, probably because my stature doesn’t lend itself to shoving through the thick of things.

I bounce through groups, scanning faces, looking for anyone even slightly familiar. Every person I see looks younger than the last, but none of them are Jack’s friends.

I’m moving fast. Calls of What gives? and Calm down, lady! echo after me as I fight the crowd. The world is churning with bass and noise, a sensory overload. But I’m determined. If he’s here we’re going to find him.

I run smack into a haughty-eyed teenage boy and practically fling him aside. But then I stop. There’s something about the kid that gives me pause and then the memory hits me like a thunderbolt: That’s one of Jack’s friends from the club.

I turn around and run backward, tripping over someone’s giant Doc Martens and almost bring the kid to the ground.

He’s not exactly put out by the fact. He glances down at my hands on his shirt and smirks at me suggestively.

I haul him toward me and scream in his face, “IS JACK MADISON HERE WITH YOU?”

The guy’s hair is blown back, his eyes bug. Then he looks annoyed.

“Believe me, baby. You’re not missing anything with Jack that you couldn’t get bigger and better with me.”

I roll my eyes, and then remember that I need to work with this kid.

“Look, I need to talk to Jack,” I say, composing myself slightly. “And if you bring me to him, I’ll bring aaall my friends over.”

That hooks him.

“Yeah, sure thing. Follow me,” he says.

I text Nick as he leads me toward the edge of the crowd, by the street. Found him. We’re at 4th and Sullivan.

And sure enough, there’s Jack, leaning against a tree with a knot of his friends. My guide shouts out to him as we get closer. “Hey, Jacky-Boy. You got a friend here.”

Jack’s eyes light up at the sight of me. He starts to look me up and down but then freezes when he realizes that he knows me. It only takes another second for him to place from where.

And considering that night was probably one of the worst of his life, I don’t blame him for his reaction.

“Wait, Jack!” I say, lunging after him as he tries to walk away.

“Oooo Jack,” one of the friends teases. The ridicule falls right off her face with one furious look from me.

Jack, meanwhile, has managed to slip through the crowd. I run after him, ignoring my guide’s indignant shout of, “Wait! What about your friends?”

Thankfully Jack doesn’t make it that far; he doesn’t realize his only chance of getting away from me is a full-on sprint. He’s about to cross the street when I catch up to him, almost bowling him over as I grab his arm.

He rips it out of my grasp, turning on me with an expression so much like his brother’s it’s uncanny.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?” he asks.

“Jack,” I say. “I’m here with your brother.”

That was the wrong thing to say. His eyes harden instantly, and now he resembles Remy Madison way more than Nick. “I don’t want to talk to him,” he says. “I don’t know what part of blocking his number didn’t tell him that.”

“He’s worried about you,” I say.

Jack scoffs. “No he’s not,” he says. “He’s worried that he’s going to get blamed in the papers if something happens to me. Then his precious stock prices are going to go down.”

“That’s not true,” I insist.

“Look, lady,” he says. “You barely know my brother. I’ve known him my entire life. I think I know what I’m talking about.”

“He—”

“You know I was only four when he split? Left for college and Dad and I didn’t hear from him for years. The entire time I grew up, he was right over the river and never so much as called on my birthday. But then Dad starts getting into legal trouble and now he wants to come in and try to tell me what to do? Well Dad might not be perfect — actually he’s pretty fucking far from perfect — but at least he was there. At least he tried instead of dipping out like Mom!”

I stand stunned, blinking back tears. I hadn’t expected Jack to unload like that, and from the look on his face, neither did he. I guess you can only keep that kind of pain bottled up for so long before it spills over.

Jack hurriedly wipes his eyes and says, “So why should I talk to him? Just so he can soothe his own ego? Tell me to get over it and that he had it worse and to get a job you lazy fuck?”

“So I can tell you I’m sorry.”

Jack freezes at the sound of Nick’s voice.

We both turn to find Nick, suit jacket discarded, backpack dangling from one hand. His hair is a mess, sweat stains his shirt. Kara’s Krowd has eaten him up and spit him back out, but he’s still on his feet. And for once he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at Jack, jaw firm, a determination in his eyes that by now I’ve come to associate with Nick staring down the impossible and willing himself to come out on top.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” he says. “I’m sorry I left when you were young. I wasn’t strong enough to handle Dad. I’m sorry I never called. I wasn’t strong enough to be there for you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a hard-ass. I didn’t try to see things from your perspective. I’m sorry I told you I didn’t want you in my life. And I’m sorry that I meant it. Because it’s easier for you to be out of my life than to admit that I’m weak. I tried my entire life to become as powerful as a man can be, but I’m still weak when it comes to you and Dad. I still care what you think. I haven’t been able to stamp it out, as hard as I’ve tried. So ultimately, I’m so sorry I tried, Jack. The point of all this wasn’t to force you to come back or to do what I want. I just want you to know that I’ve been so wrong and so weak, but that if you still want me in your life, I’ll be here.”

Jack is crying. I’m crying. Nick is the only one dry-eyed, his determination overcoming all other emotion, hanging on the silence (Kara’s concert a mere buzz in the background) preceding Jack’s response.

“The point of all this?” Jack asks.

Nick jerks his head behind us. “Kara’s a friend,” he says. “And I know you have questionable taste in music.” His serious face breaks slightly, a smile seeping through his eyes.

And that’s enough to break the spell. Jack walks forward with determined steps, and then the brothers hug each other for what’s probably the first time.

Nick talks quietly in his ear for a second, and I suddenly realize that I’m a prying eye on a very private conversation. I step away, letting the two talk, both grinning, mirrored faces with mirrored joy at opening a new chapter in their relationship.

Finally I notice that they’re both looking at me. Jack elbows Nick in the ribs lightly, and Nick jokingly pushes him toward the crowd. Jack disappears with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Nick picks up the dropped backpack and meets me on the meridian. The park is emptying, the music stopped.

“Sounds like the fuzz have gotten to Kara,” Nick says, smoothing back his hair. There’s a glow about him, a light in his eyes that I haven’t seen since Paris.

“I take it your apology went over well,” I say.

He smirks. “Yeah well, promise the little bastard that he and his friends can meet Kara and I think he’d forgive me if I pushed him out a window.”

Nick’s joking, of course, hiding the emotion of the moment with humor. I decide not to press it. Nick can tell me more later, if he wants to. This has been a lot of soul-baring in one day for a guy like Nick.

“Let’s hope Dalton doesn’t have to lay any of them out,” I tease.

“Knowing those assholes, it’d probably do ‘em some good.”

Nick and I watch the crowds disperse, snaking out like tendrils of smoke to drift from Washington Square Park to every corner of this great city. The light is starting to fade; a pink and purple glow touches the towers of Manhattan. A beautiful night. I breathe it in, enjoying the moment. A few months ago, I was alone and depressed in Boston, left not quite at the altar but pretty damn close, thinking that I’d never be happy again. I never could have envisioned that a moment like this would be right around the corner.

And then I feel his gaze on me, and I turn to see that Nick has stepped closer to me. That he’s looking down at me with that sad and curious expression in his eyes.

“My whole life,” he starts, “I was afraid that I was going to end up like my father. I’ve been realizing lately that I’m more like him than I ever wanted to admit.”

“Nick…” I start, but he puts a hand on mine, stopping me.

“Just let me finish, Evie.

“My dad had, by all accounts, a successful business, just like I have, albeit on a smaller scale. What he didn’t have?” Nick nods toward the stage, the emptying crowd. “People who cared about him. Friends that would show up for him.” He looks down at me. “A woman who loves him.”

He inhales, holding his breath. “Today is the first day of my entire life that I’m sure that I’m nothing like him. Because I lied a little to Jack.” Nick reaches down, takes my hands, holds them tightly, warmly. “They aren’t my only weakness, Evie Davis. From the second I saw you on that train, I knew you were beautiful. But from the moment you strode into my office, I knew you were different. And I fought against it with every bit of my self-preservation. I didn’t want to change. I was so afraid. But I didn’t realize then that the life I’ve been living all these years is what I should have been afraid of. It took you to show me that. And that’s one of a hundred, a thousand, reasons I’ve fallen in love with you, Evie. You changed me. You saved me.”

I look up at this wonderful, strong, steadfast man, and emotion swells my heart to bursting. He’s been through so much. It’s so hard to change, but Nick Madison isn’t a man who shies away from difficult things. He rushes into them headfirst. And that’s one of the hundred, thousand, reasons I’m in love with him.

“Nick,” I say softly. “I never knew life could feel like this. I had absolutely no idea.”

“Me neither,” he says.

And then he’s kissing me. Gently at first but then deeper, stronger, entwining himself with me. A first step of what feels like could be a long life together. How was I able to get this lucky? It beats me, but I’m not going to question it. I’m just going to enjoy it and love this man with every ounce of love I have to give.

And I know that he’ll love me the same way.

When we finally break apart, he presses his forehead to mine and we stare into each other’s eyes for a long minute. Then he pulls back, apparently suddenly realizing he still has that mysterious backpack.

“I almost forgot,” he says with a smile. Then, from its depths, he pulls something that I recognize in a second.

“Cornelius!” I exclaim, grabbing the stuffed arcade octopus from his hands and squeezing it to my chest. “You went back for him!”

“Last night,” Nick says. “And I did it the proper way. No credit cards. I’ll have you know that my Skee-Ball skills have improved greatly.” He offers me his arm and I hook mine in it.

“We’ll have to see about that,” I say as we join the evening crowds flowing along the sidewalks of the Village. “And now that the Seafarer is a success, my future Skee-Ball career is no longer on the line. A little competition later?”

“Oh no, I need more training first. Then I will crush you.”

“I’m sure. By the way, I meant to ask, is Remnick a family name?”

“Oh god. No, that’s a long story. You see…”