Chapter 14
Remy
The past week has been really nice at the office without Damon. I didn't realize what an effect he had on my sanity. And the best part? The triplets and I have been spending more time together outside the office. And tonight, they are taking me to dinner.
My phone rings while I'm staring at my closet in despair. I answer after checking the caller ID. "Jess, I need help."
"Well, hello to you, too," my best friend responds. "What's the emergency?"
"I have a dinner with the triplets, and I don't know what to wear."
Once again, I have to rely on my best friend for fashion advice.
"The green dress. The one I made you buy last month that you said was too expensive."
I pull it from the hanger, eyeing the emerald fabric. "This feels like a lot."
She's going to be insufferable about this.
"That's the point, Remy. Wear the damn dress."
I hold it up to myself in the mirror. "What if this sends the wrong message?"
"What message? That you're a functioning adult who owns nice clothes?"
I don't have a good answer for that, so I press the phone harder against my ear. "I'm being ridiculous, right?"
The answer is yes. The answer is definitely yes.
"Probably. But when has that ever stopped you?" She laughs. "You're just going to dinner with your bosses. People do that all the time. Totally normal."
But it's not just a normal, everyday dinner with an employer. "I had sex with Breck," I blurt out, finally telling her the secret I've been holding onto. And then I hold the phone away from my ear while she squeals. And then I continue, "And I definitely have feelings for Enzo and Ansel, too."
"You know that when I talked about you hooking up with all three of them, I was joking, right?" Then she squeals again. "But, damn, Remy. Good for you! Having sex with your three hot bosses."
I quickly correct her. "Nothing has happened with the other two, other than a lot of sexual tension. And I know I can't have all three of them, but I could never choose just one of them."
"Okay, slow down," Jess tells me. "You don't have to figure out forever tonight."
"I just don't know how to handle this."
"Who says you have to choose?" She asks. "Who made that rule?"
"Society? Common sense? Basic math?" I flop back on the bed.
"Remy, you've never followed the rules. Why start now?" She pauses. "Have you actually talked to them about this? Or are you just spiraling alone in your bedroom?"
She knows me too well. "Okay, you're right. It's just dinner." I laugh. "Green dress. No major life decisions. I can do that."
"Exactly!" Jess confirms. She lets me sit in that for a second before her voice softens. "So... how are you doing with the Trent thing?"
My stomach tightens at the mention of his name. "I'm fine. The guys are handling it."
"Remy."
"I'm fine, Jess. Really. I just need to get through tonight without making an idiot of myself."
"Then wear the dress, don't overthink it, and remember that you're brilliant and gorgeous and any man would be lucky to have you. Even if there are three of them."
I smile. "Thanks, Jess."
"You're the best, and you know it. Now go get dressed before you're late."
She hangs up before I can argue.
The restaurant Breck chose has exposed brick and Edison bulbs, with craft cocktails that have pretentious names I can't pronounce.
I'm really glad I let Jess persuade me to buy and wear the green dress. It cost more than I'm used to spending. But I'm not used to getting paychecks that let me afford brand-name clothes.
The way all three of them went silent when they picked me up for dinner made every penny worth it.
I'm brought back to the present moment when Ansel catches me fidgeting with my napkin. "You look beautiful."
Heat creeps into my cheeks. "Thank you."
Dinner is surprisingly easy. The tension from the past week melts away as we fall into comfortable conversation.
I'm halfway through my second glass of wine when I notice a gorgeous blonde woman checking out the guys. And then, she approaches our table.
She's tall and willowy, with a bone structure that probably photographs beautifully.
She stops at our table, looking between the three identical faces with a practiced smile. "I know one of you is Ansel Jacobs. Though with faces like yours, I'd be happy to talk business with any of you."
Ansel stands. "Stephanie Rogers. How are you?"
Her smile widens. "You remember. I'm flattered."
"Of course. The TechScape conference last year."
Her fingers touch his arm, lingering. "I've been meaning to reach out. I'd love to discuss potential partnerships between our companies."
I watch her hand on his sleeve. An ugly emotion twists in my stomach.
This is ridiculous. I have no claim on him. On any of them.
And yet, if she doesn't remove her hand in the next three seconds, I'm going to do something extremely unprofessional. Like glare. Aggressively.
Ansel's response is polite but professional. "I'd be happy to set up a meeting. Have your assistant contact mine."
Stephanie's smile doesn't waver. "Or we could discuss it over drinks? The two of us?" She looks between the brothers. "Or the four of us."
The implication is crystal clear. And she is clearly dismissing me as anybody important enough to talk to.
Breck subtly winks at me, silently letting me know he noticed, too. I quickly give him a slight shake of my head, trying to show him that I am unbothered by the dismissal.
But I am definitely bothered by the dismissal.
Ansel gently removes his hand from her arm. "I appreciate the interest, but I keep business and personal matters separate. My assistant, Sherina, will be in touch."
She finally notices that I'm at the table, too, her gaze lingering on me with thinly veiled assessment. "Of course. I'll look forward to it."
After she leaves, Breck whistles low. "Subtle."
Yeah, subtle as a sledgehammer.
Enzo doesn't look up from his menu. "She wasn't interested in a partnership."
I drain the rest of my wine. "Gosh, do you think so? I thought she was just being friendly."
Ansel sits back down. His hand briefly finds mine under the table. The touch is fleeting but deliberate.
Breck leans forward. "We get that a lot, unfortunately."
“Unfortunately?” I raise an eyebrow. "Oh, no. Three attractive billionaires getting attention from gorgeous women. How do you survive the hardship?"
Enzo's eyes flick to mine. "Wrong woman."
My breath catches at his implication.
Before I can respond, Ansel's phone buzzes. He glances at it, then at his brothers. They communicate silently, that wordless exchange I still can't decipher.
Breck nods once. Enzo leans back in his chair, arms crossed, watching me with an unreadable expression.
"What?" I look between the three of them. "You're all doing that thing where you have an entire conversation without talking. It's unnerving."
"Sorry." Ansel sets his phone down. "We need to tell you about a decision we made."
My stomach drops.
Breck must see my worried expression. "It's a good decision. I promise."
Ansel drums his fingers against the table, then stops. "You saved our company. The breach you found, the implementation you managed… You've done more in two months than some employees accomplish in years."
"Well, it's my job."
Enzo leans forward. "That was more than work. This is more than thanks."
"The car was already—"
"We paid off your parents' debt." Ansel delivers the information like he's commenting on the weather.
My wine glass freezes halfway to my lips. "What?"
"All of it. Medical bills, the mortgage, everything." He pulls up his phone and slides it across the table. "And we've set up a monthly stipend. They won't have to worry about money anymore. You won't have to worry about them being cared for."
I stare at the screen, at numbers that don't make sense.
Breck adds, "We also contacted the best orthopedic surgeon in the state. Dr. Westling. He's already reviewed your father's case and agreed to do the surgery. Everything's covered."
Enzo finishes, "They're on our insurance now. Anything not covered, we'll handle."
My fork clatters against the plate, but I can't make myself care.
"No, I can't accept—" My words crack.
"Even if you don't accept, it's already done," Ansel states. "The paperwork is filed. The payments are made. Your parents are taken care of."
"Why?" The word comes out barely above a whisper. "Why would you do this?"
Breck reaches across the table, covering my hand with his. "Because you deserve to breathe, to enjoy life without worrying about whether your parents will lose their house or if your dad can afford surgery."
Enzo leans closer. "We take care of people we care about."
Tears spill over before I can stop them. I try to wipe them away, mortified that I'm crying in a restaurant, but they keep coming.
Ansel moves to the seat beside me, his arm coming around my shoulders. "Hey. It's okay."
"It's not okay." I'm laughing and crying at the same time. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
His thumb traces circles on my shoulder, and I remember Montana, Enzo's unconscious gesture in his sleep. "Hopefully made your life easier."
"I don't know how to thank you."
Breck squeezes my hand. "You don't have to. Keep being brilliant at your job. Keep challenging us. Keep—" He stops, and his features transform. "Keep being you."
I look at each of them.
"Thank you." The words feel inadequate for what they've given me, but they're all I have. "For everything."
Ansel's arm tightens briefly around my shoulders before he releases me, moving back to his original seat.
But the distance feels different now. I realize I'm not just their employee anymore. I'm more than that. But I don't know what that means yet.
After dinner, Breck suggests a bar he knows a few blocks away. The night is cool but not cold, perfect for walking off the wine and heavy food—and maybe helping me recover from the emotional whiplash of the last hour.