Chapter 25 Sienna
TWENTY-FIVE
SIENNA
“This one isn’t half bad.”
Cat’s right. And it’s a hell of a lot better than everything else the realtor has shown us so far.
I’m still hesitant to consider it a possibility, though, after the last apartment she showed us.
It seemed like a winner until Cat noticed how clearly she could see into the apartment across the way.
Obviously, curtains could solve that issue.
But the real problem was the obese man who appeared in the apartment, completely nude, and wandered around that way for some time.
Cat insisted the agent get more information from the landlord, and when she did, we discovered that the man never wore clothes or used blinds.
So, unwilling to live in darkness or be mooned by a man across the way constantly, I moved on.
It was crushing, really, since the closet in that apartment was big enough to house every pair of shoes I own and had lights to illuminate each shelf.
Both Cat and I cried over that.
After she’d wiped away her tears, she texted a picture of it to her husband. Knowing Jay Hanson, Cat’s closet will be upgraded within the week.
“Anything is better than living with my mom.” I turn toward the agent and take the leap. “I’ll take it.”
She clasps her hands and breaks into a wide smile. “Okay, I’ll go get the paperwork for you to sign.”
Cat lets out a loud whistle. “Look at you doing big things.”
I snort. “Right. Moving out of one’s childhood bedroom at thirty is not a milestone to be celebrated.”
She rolls her eyes. “At twenty-two, you built a fashion empire. At twenty-five, you starred on a hit show that dominated all the charts. For the last five years, you’ve been the number one designer on the who-to-watch list of everyone who matters.”
“And now I’m starting over.” I sigh, my chest aching.
“They say women can reinvent themselves as many times as they want. It’s hot. A new trend.” She gives me a cocky smirk.
A watery laugh bubbles out of me. “Who’s they?”
She points at herself. “Me, Sienna. And we all know—”
“What Catherine Bouvier says goes,” I chime in.
As our laughter fades, I take in the view of Boston from here. It’s nothing glamorous. Just a city street, and the place doesn’t even have a balcony, but Cat’s right; it’s a start.
Today’s been full of firsts. My first day at my new job, my first non-self-induced orgasm in god knows how long, and the first time a man has ever truly hurt me.
Have I been disappointed by men in the past? Sure. But finding out that while I was searching for him, he knew where I was but chose not to reach out was devastating.
He’s wrong when he says it’s not over. It is. It has to be.
Cat bumps her shoulder against mine. “What are you thinking about?”
I sigh and survey my friend. She may be the most incredible person I know. With long, thick, wavy dark hair, striking whiskey-colored eyes, and curves that anyone would envy, she’s gorgeous. But it’s her kindness and the way she carries herself that really set her apart.
Maybe the similar dynamics of our families are what drew us to one another, or maybe it was the fashion thing, but Cat has always been the older sister I never had. Showing her the worst parts of myself, letting her in when I’m at my lowest, is hard.
“It’s just a lot, you know.”
She nods, surveying the street below. “Did I tell you that J.J. and your niece play hockey together?”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, shocked that she isn’t hounding me for details but happy to follow along with this change of subject. Poor Beckett so badly wants his kids to play baseball, but Addie wants to be a goalie like her Uncle Brooks. “What position does he play?”
“He’s a goalie as well,” she says, her eyes dancing with humor. “The two of them are more competitive than any adults I know. And Addie is good. I’ll give her that.”
“I didn’t know you liked hockey,” I muse.
She laughs. “I didn’t either until I watched my husband playing a pickup game with your brothers.
Now that it’s consumed J.J.’s life, we have no choice but to be invested.
Not that Jay minds one bit. Though with as busy as we are, it can be a challenge to get him to every practice and all their games.
Beckett pulled some strings and got the two of them on the same team, so that helps.
He makes sure to get J.J. there when we can’t. ”
“Sounds like my brother.” I smile. The man is always meddling. “Beckett talked me into coming to work for Langfield Corp.”
Her lips twitch, like this isn’t new information. That shouldn’t surprise me. She’s connected to almost everyone I know, as well as the media. She knows things before they’re ever made public. “How do you feel about that? Is it really what you want?”
With a shrug, I let out a long breath. “I don’t know. But since I can’t design anymore, I need something.”
Eyes flashing with anger, she says, “You could if you’d let me fix this.”
I take a step back and cross my arms. “No. I shouldn’t have brought it up. We promised we wouldn’t discuss this again.”
She snorts. “No, you insisted that I not bring it up, but I never agreed to your demand.”
My responding laugh echoes off the ceiling. “Please.”
She sighs, her expression easing. “Fine. But really, CEO of the hockey team?”
That’s all the confirmation I need. Of course she knew.
“Yeah. Bizarre, right? My initial instinct was to flat-out turn the offer down, but then I watched Beckett and Liv discuss trades for the baseball team and it was almost”—my heart rate ramps up a little, just like it did that day, when the memory surfaces—“exhilarating.”
Her eyes widen. “That’s something, huh?”
“Yup.”
“You know what else is something?” she hedges.
“What?”
She grins. “Orgasms.”
Heat floods my body. She can’t know, right? There’s no way. “Excuse me?”
She takes my hand and squeezes gently. “Come on, let’s go to Allure. You’ll love it.”
I shake my head. Cat and her sex clubs. God, just the idea freaks me out. “No.”
She lifts a shoulder and drops it easily. “Garreth is coming to town next weekend.”
I wince. “I hope it’s not for me.”
“Still hung up on book boy?”
I bristle. She’s one of very, very few people who know about that weekend and my search for Noah.
If I told her I found him, I can only imagine the meddling she’d do.
She’d be worse than Beckett. For as tough as she is, her love story is epic.
Years after the love of her life vanished, he resurfaced and absolutely wooed the shit out of her.
Now they’re living the quintessential happily ever after, with three children and a brownstone in the city.
But that’s not in the cards for me. Not anymore.
“Well,” she says, knowing me well enough to understand that I’m not interested in delving into my past, “if you are determined to make it in the family business, then there’s one more thing you need to do.”
“And what is that?”
She grins. “Talk to your family.”