Chapter 13
HARRISON
By the time I finally ditched my mother and her endless parade of personal shoppers, my brain was numb. CC had bought me at least a dozen scarves that “brought out my eyes,” and after an entire day dodging matching Christmas sweaters, I needed a drink.
A dozen, maybe.
Slipping into the bar at the Plaza Hotel like a fugitive crossing the border, I heaved out a sigh of relief when I didn’t hear CC calling me back.
I’d left her in her suite, but part of me had honestly expected her to pop up like a festive Jack-in-the-box, insisting that we have a drink together if I wanted a drink at all.
God knew, I loved the woman. To the world, she was the ringleader of her elite group of friends, a powerhouse in her own right, and the matriarch who ruled the Westwoods with an iron fist, but to us, she was just Mom.
My brothers and I all had a great relationship with her.
Contrary to what people might think, she was actually pretty warm.
She’d also always been really involved in our lives, super hands-on, and I generally truly enjoyed spending time with her.
Today had just been a lot for me, and if I had to hear one more opinion about my color palette, I was going to barf.
As soon as I walked in, I spotted Aurelia already waiting in the bar. I didn’t know what it was about her, but it was almost like I could sense her presence. Just like earlier at Bergdorf’s, when I’d been seconds from falling asleep and suddenly something had told me to look up.
My gaze met hers. For a second, all I could see was her in my bed, that beautiful face contorting with pleasure. Shit. She’s your friend, Harrison. Your hot friend, but your friend nonetheless. Fucking act like it.
I strode over to her without hesitating, but before I could even say hi, she leaned toward me and whispered, “We can’t stay here.”
“What?” I blinked hard, not even the sight of her long-sleeved shirt stretching over her chest enough to lift my spirits after that statement. “Why not? They have very expensive whiskey here. I was counting on lots of that to erase the trauma I endured today. I’ve earned it.”
She completely ignored my protests and grabbed my hand, tugging me off the barstool I’d only just sank down on. “Trust me. Come on. Let’s go.”
Apparently, I had no free will when it came to her, because I followed Aurelia Van Alen out of that glorious bar with the amazing whiskey without even putting up a little bit of a fight.
She dragged me through the lobby glittering with decorations and straight into the chaos of a Christmas market across the street, and I didn’t protest once.
Thankfully, she bought us hot, spiced cider at the first stall that sold them, pressing the paper cup into my hand. As she blew across the liquid in her own, sending steam scattering away from her full lips, she finally relaxed a little bit.
“Did you, uh…” She paused for a beat. “Did you know that our mothers are enemies?”
“Enemies?” I shook my head, folding my fingers around the cup and wishing it contained something stronger. “That seems dramatic. All I know is that CC doesn’t invite Regina to her events, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re enemies. They might just not be friends.”
She shot me a look. “Those invitations are like royal decrees. I’m sure you know that.
They’re a declaration regarding a person’s social status.
Not being invited means something. Besides, I asked my mom about it earlier and she left me alone to choose my own shoes to get out of having to talk to me about it. ”
I chuckled as we fell into step side by side, weaving past stalls draped with multi-colored lights and breathing gingerbread-scented air.
“Okay, well, if leaving you to choose your own shoes is as big a deal as CC hanging up on me when I asked her about it, you might be onto something. What do you think happened between them? A fight over the last pair of Chanel pumps at the summer sales?”
“Oh, please.” She giggled. “Neither of them shop the sales. Maybe your mother sabotaged mine at cotillion?”
“Or your mother stole the spotlight at some gala in the eighties and my mother never got over it,” I countered. “No, wait. I got it. Your mom is secretly jealous of CC’s margarita recipe. I wouldn’t blame her. That woman makes a mean shaken margarita. It’s legendary.”
Aurelia laughed, glancing up at me with those big blue eyes that had been haunting my dirty dreams, but there was a light in them tonight I hadn’t seen there before. Maybe it was just all the Christmas in the air, but she seemed happier. Freer.
“Regina is a VIP member at the Garden Club,” she offered. “It could be that.”
I shook my head. “CC is a Country Club gal through and through. She dominates the golf course there and I might even have heard her say that Chef Austin’s chicken salad deserves a Michelin star.”
We strolled past stalls selling roasted chestnuts and woolen scarves, trading theories, sipping cider, and laughing harder than we probably should have.
I rolled my eyes at her latest theory, but as I did, I suddenly realized that right now, I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere but right here, in this cliched market, with her.
I took another sip of cider, watching her as she stopped to admire a handmade snow globe. “So, what’s next for you?”
“Next?” She glanced at me, setting the snow globe back down before she moved on. “You mean for work?”
“Yep. You said you had more deals in mind?”
She let out a throaty laugh that did all sorts of unholy things to me. “Well, that depends on whether W&S will keep letting me invest in your acquisitions. You guys aren’t exactly known for sharing your toys.”
I shrugged, trying to appear casual despite the fact that the idea of any of my brothers saying no to her made my muscles tighten. “Maybe we shouldn’t care about W&S. Maybe we should do our own thing.”
Her head tilted, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to decide if I was joking. She slowed down. “Our own thing. You mean, together?”
“Together,” I said, letting the word hang between us until she glanced away.
Her cheeks flushed pink and she shook her head.
“You would do that?” she asked as we wandered from the market into Central Park.
The crowd had thinned and snow started falling again, dusting the pathways and clinging to her coat.
“I didn’t even realize you were thinking about leaving the family business. ”
“I’m not,” I said. “I would, though.”
String lights had been looped through the trees, casting a soft, golden glow across the park. Aurelia glanced up at me, sticking so close to my side that I felt her against me. “Why would you do that? Why would you leave? Are you unhappy there?”
“No, I love W&S,” I said honestly, elaborating when a confused frown tugged her eyebrows closer together.
“I’ve only just started working under Sterling and I know I could learn a ton from him, but that doesn’t mean I have to commit to it for the rest of my life.
If a better opportunity comes along, I’ll take it. ”
She didn’t say anything but the way her brow puckered when her eyes widened told me she was impressed. “That’s a bold statement, Westwood. Don’t rich boys like you usually stick with the family business?”
“Don’t rich girls like you usually not work at all?”
She laughed. “Touche.”
Silence fell between us for a moment. Our gazes connected and something unspoken passed between us. Something heavy and strange that made me not want to hold back anymore.
“Do you remember the other night?” I asked, finally giving voice to the question that had been burning the tip of my tongue for a week. “During the ice storm?”
“Vaguely.” She ducked her head before shaking it, very purposely averting her gaze. “We drank way too much wine.”
“Yeah, but you suggested that we should get married,” I said, just putting it out there now that I’d brought up that night. “Do you remember that part?”
She blushed so hard that her face lit up brighter than the trees around us. “I was definitely tipsy when I said that. Just ignore it.”
I stepped closer, not close enough to touch her but enough that the warmth of her body became a temptation. “It wasn’t a bad idea, actually.”
Her eyes snapped up to mine, wide and searching. “It wasn’t?”
“Not at all.” The snow crunched under our boots as we walked deeper into the park, our breath puffing out in white clouds.
She tucked her hands into her coat pockets, looking up at the lights strung across the trees.
I had a feeling that it was just so she wouldn’t have to look at me, but I pressed on anyway.
“We’re a great team. We work well together. ”
She arched her eyebrow at me, breaking out The Aurelia Special again. “We terrified one broke client into accepting our proposal. You can’t tell me you think that means we should get married.”
“Nope.” I smiled when she rolled her eyes at me.
“I think we should get married because we’d make a great team at everything.
We were good together with this last deal, sure, but we don’t have to stop there.
Think about everything we could achieve together, Aurelia.
Think about what we could do if we teamed up for real.
We could build a business together. Hell, we could start our very own empire. ”
Laughter burst out of her, light, loud, and lyrical. Her head shook over and over again. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah, I am,” I agreed easily, leaning closer. “So are you, though. That’s why we’re perfect together.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Perfect?”
I shrugged, but my pulse was hammering. “We’re friends, aren’t we? We actually like each other. We get along well. We have a lot in common and we’ve both got something to prove, so why not get engaged? Why not skip the drama and the dating scene all together, and get married?”
While I knew what I was getting into and that she was probably going to laugh at me, I’d been thinking about this and I wasn’t giving up until she’d heard me out. “We already know we work well together. We’d be on the same page about what this is and what we want from each other. It could work.”
She stopped walking, staring up at me like I’d sprouted antlers. “You can’t be serious.”
I grinned. “There would no messy breakup. No more awkward first dates. No more pressure from your parents. Just us against the world, landing deals and taking names.”
Soft laughter bubbled out of her, the sound disbelieving but not mocking. Her gaze flicked from one of my eyes to the other, her jaw slackening. “You’re actually serious.”
I looked at her, her cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes sparkling in the light, snowflakes dotting her hair, and I knew I should’ve probably told her that I was joking.
She tilted her head, waiting for me to crack a grin and tell her I was kidding, but instead, I held her gaze, unable to shake the feeling that the craziest idea I’d ever had might also just be the smartest.
Just as I was about to keep making my case, she spoke again. “Fine. Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”
Surprise smacked into me with the force of a rocket ship crashing on my head. “Just like that, huh?”
She nodded, no hesitation. Not even a dramatic pause. “Just like that. A business partnership without all the legal hassle of setting up a corporation. Streamlined efficiency, right?”
Her tone was airy, teasing. A dare wrapped in a voice like silk. Like she was still convinced I wasn’t serious, that I’d laugh it off and we’d move on, but I didn’t laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”
A familiar weight was suddenly pressing against my ribs, sitting heavy right in the center of my chest. I was so damn tired of people not taking me seriously.
We walked back through the snow, her chatter light and her hand brushing mine every so often like it was an accident, but I wasn’t focused on any of that anymore.
By the time I’d delivered her to her condo, she was smiling, her cheeks flushed and her eyes still sparkling with lightness and laughter. “Good night, Westwood. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”
The urge to just kiss her, to grab her, pull her into me, and slam my lips against hers was almost overwhelming, but I resisted. “Good night, Aurelia.”
I should’ve let the whole idea die right there, but as I watched her disappear into the lobby, I knew there was one more thing I had to buy before I left New York.
It wasn’t another scarf, or more Christmas decorations, or stocks, or even another company. It was a ring—and I wasn’t leaving there without it.