Chapter 34
34
W hen I walk out of Lili’s hospital room, everyone’s staring at me.
Her parents. Her brothers. Her uncle. Her grandfather. Her godfather.
Her friends, at least, know who I am. Have some sense of our relationship.
But Lili’s family members all look significantly less friendly than they did the previous times I met them. They’re all worried about Lili, and none of them have any clue why I’m here.
I couldn’t not come. I overheard a couple at the gala say that there had been a car accident involving Elizabeth Kensington, and I arrived outside right as the ambulance was pulling away from the curb. Cal told me which hospital they were taking her to. Even offered me a ride, but I’d rented a car at the airport when I arrived this morning that I drove here.
She asked for me, same as she had the last time she got injured. This time, it wasn’t for my medical opinion.
And I … froze. Everything I came here to tell her—apologies about how I’d left France, explanations about why I’m so consumed by my family and my role—got sidetracked during her chilly greeting. It felt like the return of the Elizabeth who purposefully pretended not to know me on multiple occasions. Like the past few weeks had been wiped away and we were back in the same place where we’d started.
In her hospital room just now, she was different. Softer. But still withdrawn. And clearly shaken from the accident that had ended with her in the hospital … again.
Maybe it’s fate—that, as an aspiring doctor, I’d end up with the most accident-prone woman on the planet.
Except I’m not a doctor. I gave up that dream to deal with all the problems plaguing me. Problems I was planning to share with Lili. Problems that sound like excuses now.
And I’m not with her. I lost any chance with her. Bungled this from the beginning because I was so arrogantly certain that I’d never fall. That emotional distance was one way in which my father and I are similar.
Tripp, surprisingly, is the first person who approaches me. “Good to see you, man,” he tells me, clasping my hand and giving me a hard pound on the back.
Cal does the same gesture.
“Thanks again for …” I clear my throat.
Cal nods. “I knew she’d want you here.”
That makes one of us. I’m not sure if I made anything better by showing up.
There’s no sign of Jasper, but Fran gives me a hug. Bridget disappeared into Lili’s room after I left it.
“I’ve got to … head out.” It’s a pathetic farewell, but I’m not currently in the best shape.
My red-eye landed in New York at nine a.m. I checked into my hotel as early as I could, passed out for several hours, then put on this tux. This evening didn’t play out the way I’d hoped it would, and I’ve spent too much time in hospitals recently.
I’m expecting expressions to harden when I announce I’m leaving, but they all still look sympathetic. Makes me wonder what the hell Lili told them about us.
I stop to say goodbye to Asher, avoiding meeting Lili’s family’s eyes. Her mom and aunt are whispering, and her brothers are both frowning.
“Thank you for the invitation.”
Asher nods. Then lifts an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize how well you knew the family.”
“I don’t really. Just … her.”
He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then thinks better of it and shuts it. “Been keeping an eye out for any investment news with your hotels …”
I avert eye contact. “I haven’t sold.”
“If you’re still wanting to, I have some contacts in Europe who I think would be interested. They haven’t done much in hospitality, but they prioritize quality over quantity. Might be a good fit. I can get you their contact information, if you’d like?”
“I’d appreciate it,” I tell him.
I trust Asher’s judgment. And I’m so sick of treading water. If it’s a deal that involves a fair price—the amount the shares are actually worth—I’d seize it like a life preserver.
“Great. I’ll get it to you on Monday.”
“Thank you.”
We shake hands before I continue down the hallway. As soon as I’m around the corner and out of sight, I let my shoulders slump. Press the button for the lift and lean against the wall, covering my yawn with one hand.
Everything feels raw after my conversation with Lili. I’m still sorting through the panic she was injured, the relief that’s she okay. The uncertainty of not knowing what to say.
“Charles.”
I turn at the sound of my name, then stiffen.
Crew Kensington is walking toward me. There’s no sign of the friendliness that was on his face when we spoke at the gala as he looks me up and down before stopping a couple of feet away. His eyes—the same blue as Lili’s—search my face.
The lift arrives, doors opening with a ding.
I don’t move.
“When we spoke earlier, I wasn’t aware you were on the sort of terms with my daughter that merited a trip to the hospital.”
He pins me with an intense stare, broad shoulders squared. I have maybe an inch on him, but I don’t feel very tall right now.
Crew Kensington is an intimidating man. I’ve been told I’m one, too, but I don’t feel very powerful right now, either.
“I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”
He cocks his head, considering that. “I don’t have an issue with you coming here, Charles. I’m wondering why you’re leaving.”
“She … asked me to.”
Crew doesn’t appear surprised by the revelation. “Lili has always been independent. Creative. A little unpredictable. In twenty-five years, I’ve never been sure what she’ll say or do next. Her asking for you … that tells me you’re important to my daughter. Very important. And my daughter is very important to me, Charles.”
I swallow at the subtle threat in that last sentence. The tone of a billionaire accustomed to deference. “She’s very important to me too.”
His stern expression softens a fraction. “Then, as someone who fell in love with the woman who raised Lili, I’ll offer you a little free advice: It’s not going to be easy. That’s not a reason to give up. That’s a reason to fight harder. She’s stubborn. You want a chance? Be stubborner.”
“So … I should stay?”
Crew shakes his head. “Listen to her, Charles, but stand up to her too. I doubt you came all this way to hear my brother give a bad speech.”
“I didn’t.”
This time, he cracks a small smile. “You showing up here said a lot. Give her some time to realize it. Sometimes, we have to let things go to realize they’re what we really want. If your father was anything like mine, he told you love was the least important thing in life. Don’t believe him. Decide your own priorities.”
I nod.
“She told you I own part of AC Milan, huh?”
“She did,” I confirm.
“My boys barely give a shit.” Crew sighs, like that’s been a long-term source of disappointment for him. “If you ever want to go to a game, let me know. I don’t make it to as many as I’d like, and it would be nice to witness one with a real fan who’s not more interested in the snack bar.”
I haven’t been to a football match since my dad died. We used to go to a lot of games together. He was an avid Aston Villa fan. His life priorities went something like the dukedom, his kids, gambling, and football. The order changed.
And Crew is right; I don’t think love was anywhere on the list. Certainly not the romantic kind. He never remarried or even introduced me and Blythe to a woman.
“I will,” I say, my throat suspiciously thick.
“Crew, where …” Scarlett Kensington’s voice trails off when she sees I’m the one talking to her husband.
She continues approaching us, tucking a piece of her long, dark hair behind one ear. Lili does the same thing.
“Hello, Charles.”
“Hello, Mrs. Kensington.”
“Scarlett, please,” she corrects, holding out a hand that I shake. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“You too,” I reply, hiding my surprise. I wasn’t expecting her to remember our brief interaction weeks ago.
Scarlett smiles, then glances at her husband. “The doctor wants to talk to us.” She catches Crew’s concerned expression. And mine. “Just to discuss discharge procedure.”
I relax. Discharge is good. Means she’s headed home shortly.
“I’ll be right there,” Crew tells his wife.
She nods, smiles at me again, then heads back down the hallway.
Lili’s father sticks a palm out. I grasp it, giving him my firmest shake.
Crew doesn’t let go right away. “If you treat my little girl with anything less than the utmost respect, I want to make it clear, we’re going to have a massive fucking issue, Marlborough. I don’t give a shit about your title. I have a fuck ton of money and very few hobbies. If you hurt Lili, I’ll bury you. Got it?”
He’s dead serious, but I want to smile. Not because I don’t believe him—I do—but because I’m glad he’s Lili’s father. Happy she has a family who would go to war for her.
“Got it, sir.”
His eyes narrow, like he’s trying to decide if I’m being glib.
I’m not. It’s a sign of respect—respect he just earned.
Finally, Crew nods. “Next time we see each other, I promise I’ll remember you.”
“Glad I finally made an impression.”
One corner of his mouth curves up a tiny bit. “Can sort of see why she likes you.”
Following that small endorsement, Crew turns and walks away.
I hit the button for the lift again. It’s late—past midnight—but I no longer feel that tired. Residual adrenaline is coursing through me.
When I reach the lobby, I pull out my mobile and call my cousin.
Ellis answers on the second ring. “Wassup, Duke?”
“You busy?” I ask.
“Nah, just playing video games.”
“Want to meet me for a drink?”
“Meet you for a drink … you’re in New York?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Is everything okay? Did something happen with your mom?”
Ellis witnessed most of my last visit. The distance between me and my mother, which only expanded tonight.
“Georgia’s fine. I came for a work thing.”
“You sure do work a lot,” he comments.
“Drink, Ellis. Are you in or not?”
“Are you going to sip water this time?”
“I’ll be at the same place we met last time in ten minutes,” I tell him, then hang up.
He arrives shortly after I do, a bike helmet tucked beneath one arm.
This bar isn’t any nicer than I remember it being, but it’s significantly busier than it was during my last visit. More popular with the weekend crowd, I guess.
Ellis’s smile is wide as he approaches the booth. I snagged the last open one.
“Duke! You’re really here.”
“You can call me Charlie, you know,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. “How will everyone know you’re a duke then?”
“I’m fine with everyone not knowing I’m a duke,” I inform him.
“What’s this?” He picks up the scotch I ordered for him when I arrived.
“Decent liquor,” I reply.
I know he’s had it before—at Derek’s fancy country club.
Ellis grins. Lifts the glass. “Cheers!”
I lift mine, too, and tap it against his, echoing the exclamation.
We both sip.
“So, what was your work trip?” he asks.
I swish the scotch around in my glass, watching the brown liquid splash up the sides and then drip down. “I went to the Kensington Consolidated gala earlier.”
“Why?”
I give him the answer I should have told Lili. “Because of Elizabeth Kensington.”
Ellis chokes mid-swallow. Swigs some more scotch, coughs, then blinks rapidly at me. “What?”
He heard me or else it wouldn’t have just sounded like he needed the Heimlich maneuver.
But I repeat myself. “I went to the Kensington Consolidated gala to see Elizabeth Kensington.”
After over a year of my telling mostly lies and half-truths, it feels good to be totally honest.
“ Dude .” His voice lowers, like we’re swapping secrets. “You’ve … slept with her?”
“Yes.”
“How was it?” he asks eagerly.
I reach for my glass. “None of your goddamn business.”
I’ve never discussed those details about a woman before. Men who go into specifics about their sex life usually seem to be compensating for something.
With Lili, it’s more than that. There’s also blinding possessiveness involved. Those intimate moments are ours alone.
“Okay, okay.” Ellis leans back in his seat. “So, are you, like, dating her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I-I don’t know.”
There are too many reasons—all of which I don’t feel like discussing—and not a single one that seems sufficient.
I’m currently confused about everything. I don’t know has become my standard response instead of I’ve been busy , and I don’t think it’s much of an improvement. Might be a downgrade actually.
“So … bad night?”
“Could have been better.” I drink more scotch. “Tell me about you. What’s new?”
Ellis launches into a long response, like no one has asked him that recently. We’ve exchanged sporadic texts over the past few weeks, but none of his messages were that detailed. He’s seeing the woman in the photo he sent from the Statue of Liberty. She’s an aspiring nature photographer, and they’re planning a trip so he can surf and she can take pictures. His birthday is in a few weeks, he reminds me, and I make a mental note to remember to text him on the date.
I listen, asking questions occasionally, but the buzzing that used to be in the back of my head? It’s still there, and it’s not stress about potential bankruptcy.
It’s a long list of all the things I should have said to Lili.
And it’s almost as distracting as the woman herself.