27. hayes
TWENTY-SEVEN
hayes
I lean against a wall in my fitted suit, not caring if crossing my arms over my chest will wrinkle the jacket. I was coerced into an engagement photoshoot with Raquel, yet she’s somehow been the only one photographed thus far. She hired a makeup artist and had a dress designed for the occasion, going overboard in the extravagant gold sequin dress. She’s naturally brunette but has dyed her hair platinum blonde since high school, and it’s falling down her back in waves. But the ring signifies the weight of this lie.
My father told her to choose any ring she wanted, and she did. She went to Harry Winston and had one sized immediately, demanding it be ready for this photoshoot. I didn’t care to ask how many carats. My only assignment was to show up for the picture and smile, and then I’d be free until the rehearsal dinner, which is coming up too soon for my liking.
None of this is to my liking.
I can’t stop thinking about Fallon. She’s in my dreams. She lingers in every inhale. It’s like the thought of her gives my lungs the strength to function. I was cruel to her on purpose, but the look of betrayal on her face when I left will live with me forever. And no matter how often I try convincing myself that I’m doing all this for her, it’s never enough. I could’ve fought harder. I could’ve thrown aside my father’s empire and risked it all, but that would have left her vulnerable and exposed to my father’s vengeance, which he has never been short on. No, this was the quickest solution. With any luck, we can get the marriage annulled once Raquel has the baby. We’ll cite irreconcilable differences as the reason.
The sound of camera shutters fills the air as I adjust my shirt collar, frowning when the photographer beckons me forward. The photographer’s commands float over me—turn this way, hold her hand like you mean it, look at her like you care—and I do my best to comply. But none of it is real. Not the smile on my face. Not the touch of her hand in mine. It’s all part of the performance.
The weight in my chest grows heavier with every minute I spend in front of the camera, and I hate it. I hate being here, dressed in a suit for another woman, acting like I’m a man who has his life together. The truth is, my heart isn’t in this. It isn’t in any of it. And as much as I try to bury the feelings, the thought of Fallon lingers like an ache I can’t shake.
“Come on, Fitz, a little more enthusiasm,” the photographer calls, snapping another picture as I stand stiffly, the fake smile frozen on my face. “Show me the love.”
“Fitz,” Raquel grits through clenched teeth.
I catch my reflection in the mirror behind the photographer, my eyes hollow, my jaw clenched.
What the hell am I doing?
The photographer notices the shift in my energy and steps back, his frown deepening. “Alright, take five,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “I think we’re losing the magic.”
I walk off to the side, trying to collect my thoughts. Every step feels like I’m sinking deeper into the mire of my own confusion. I didn’t expect this to bother me as badly as it is.
I take my phone out of my pocket. The screen lights up with a text from Andrew. He already knows everything.
“How’s it going? You know how Frank feels about these shoots—make sure you’re making the right impression.”
I run my hand over my face, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. How can I make the right impression when all I want to do is throw it all away and focus on something real? Something like Fallon.
But I must go through with it. My father’s expectations hang over me like a dark cloud. My obligations are clear.
I’ll need a drink after this.
Where’s Jace? He isn’t responding.
I’ll check his location.
I didn’t want to share my location with Jace and Andrew, but Jace stole our phones one night and added us to an app that shows where we are on a map and when our phones need to charge. It’s juvenile but has worked out when Jace gets too drunk at a bar and requires us to pick him up, which is often.
Well. You won’t like this.
Fuck. Where is he?
He’s in Sanderling.
At Fallon’s store.
I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. The words are like a punch to the gut. The rest of the world seems to blur around me as I reread it, the message sinking deeper.
I’ve always known Jace had no boundaries, but this… This is something else entirely. He’s going to Sanderling to pursue Fallon? After everything? He knows what I had put on the line. Yet, he’s going to try to steal her away, make a mockery of everything we had—or maybe it’s just a game to him.
I didn’t believe he’d actually follow through on our deal.
My heart pounds in my ears. No. Not like this. Not now. Fallon can’t find out like this.
I don’t even think twice. I turn, ignoring the photographer and Raquel, and grab my jacket, storming out of the shoot. The cold air slaps me in the face as I walk quickly to my motorcycle. The idea of Jace and Fallon together ignites something in me. I am going to stop this. I don’t need to think about it. I don’t need permission. I just need to get to her.
* * *
I skid to a stop in the parking lot of Shoreline Scribes, the engine of my motorcycle roaring as I slam it into park. My chest is tight with anger and something darker, a raw ache I can’t ignore anymore.
Jace’s silver car is parked just a few spaces away, and there he is—leaning against it like he owns the place, a cocky grin on his face as he looks at the storefront.
He sees me before I can get a word out. His grin only widens, his eyes full of amusement. “Well, if it isn’t the prodigal son himself.”
Without thinking, I march toward him and punch him square in the jaw. The satisfying crack of contact rings in my ears as he staggers back, holding his face but still smirking.
“Stay the hell away from Fallon,” I spit, my voice low, dripping with venom.
Jace wipes his lip, tasting the blood from the corner of his mouth. His smirk falters just for a moment before it returns with renewed mischief. “I don’t want her, Fitz. Not in the way you think.”
I blink, confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He leans back, folding his arms, his expression turning serious for once. “I was testing her to see if she’d be loyal to you--if she’s as into you as you think she is.”
My throat tightens, and I fight to keep my composure. “Tested her?” I growl, taking a step forward, the distance between us narrowing. “You went to her, put her through some game to see if she’d fall for it?”
“I wasn’t trying to screw with her,” Jace says, his voice more level now, almost calculating. “I wanted to see if she’d turn me down. And she did, Fitz. She turned me down flat. Not even a second thought.”
A surge of relief floods through me before it’s quickly replaced by something else—something deeper. The tension leaves my body, but I feel it again, stronger than ever.
“And now I see it,” Jace continues, his eyes searching mine with a strange intensity. “You are in love with her, aren’t you?”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stagger back, blinking rapidly, trying to process what he said.
Jace laughs bitterly. “You’re willing to risk your father’s wrath to leave an engagement shoot for a woman you barely know? That is what love looks like, Fitz. It’s not the bullshit with the girl your father chose for you. It’s the one you’ll drop everything for. The one you can’t stand to see with someone else, even your best friend.”
I stand there, frozen, as his words sink deeper than I ever expected. The truth is staring me in the face, and I can’t deny it anymore. I am in love with Fallon. And I’ve risked everything I’d built up with my family and my obligations to ensure her dreams don’t slip through her fingers.
The weight of everything comes crashing down on me. I don't feel in control for the first time in a long while.
Fallon is the one who has me in the palm of her hand.
The small business banquet is in two days. Now that FFJ Holdings is one of the sponsors, I have another request to make.