EMBER
Cassidy and I stand on the footpath outside Harper’s office in an amazing part of Manhattan.
The building is classic New York red brick, but it’s been updated.
Clean lines, big, black-framed windows, and a modern glass entrance that still works with the old architecture.
There’s a sleek black awning over the door with ‘The Rose Agency’ in crisp white lettering, and a couple of large planters with bright greenery framing the steps.
It feels polished and current, exactly the kind of place you’d expect a successful PR firm to call home.
“The building is gorgeous,” Cassidy says.
Sam walks out the front door, hanging up his phone, and greets us.
“There you are. Sorry, you’re stuck with me today.
I promise I will do my best.” He kisses us both on the cheek.
“Harper told me about your launch, sounds fantastic. I think I might need to talk to you ladies about updating my bachelor pad.”
“Of course. We’d love to help,” I tell him.
“Great, now let’s show you the space.”
Cassidy and I look at each other excitedly.
He walks us through the lobby, which is all warm timber, low lighting, and a huge arrangement of flowers on the front desk. The woman behind it greets him by name and waves us through.
“How many floors?” Cassidy asks as we get in the elevator.
“Six. The agency's got the bottom five.” He presses a button. “You're on six.”
“What's on six now?” I ask.
“Nothing.” The doors close. “Fair warning, it's a mess. Nobody's touched it in years.”
The elevator takes us up and opens, and neither of us moves.
It isn't an office.
It's the whole floor. Windows down two full sides, timber underfoot, columns running through the middle of it, and light pouring in from both directions. There's junk everywhere, stacked chairs, boxes, old signage, a dust sheet thrown over something big in the corner. It's enormous.
“Oh,” Cassidy says.
I'm already walking. The timber's original under all the dust. The columns are the good kind, the kind you leave exactly where they are and build around.
There's a wall at the far end with no windows in it at all, which is exactly where you'd want the samples, and the corner opposite gets light from both sides.
“I thought Harper said she had an office. We were picturing something much smaller.”
“I’m going to blame baby brain.” He chuckles. “The whole floor is yours. It’s not being used,” Sam explains.
“But this is too much. The rent on this must be huge,” I say.
“My grandfather gifted the building to Harper for her twenty-first birthday.” My eyes widen.
I knew Harper was rich, but this is rich, rich.
“Look, my sister wouldn’t have offered it if she didn’t want you to have it.
As annoying as she is, she has a big heart and will do anything for her friends.
We will make sure this is all cleaned up for you.
Yes, it’s a big space, but I think you’re going to need it.
It can be a warehouse for your products as well.
Harper has been raving about your throws since your launch. ”
She really must have liked it if she’s told her brother.
“Em, the ceilings.” Cassidy points. We stare at the large beams.
It’s industrial chic.
“We love it,” I tell him.
“Fantastic, she will be so happy. I’ll let Marlowe know that you want to take it, and she can organize someone to get all this taken away for you. So, it might take a week or two before you can get in,” he explains.
“We are just so grateful, we don’t care how long we have to wait,” I tell him.
“Great, fantastic, my work here is done. If you guys want to stay and work stuff out, you’re more than welcome. I’ve got to rush to a meeting,” he says, kissing us goodbye. “I’ll be in touch about the work.” Then he is gone.
“This is insane,” Cassidy says.
“It is, but look at this space. We could do anything we want in here.”
“I know.” She squeals as she hugs me tightly. “We need to call Harper.”
“Yes.” I pull my phone out and dial her number.
“How did it go?” she asks, answering the phone.
“Harper, it’s the entire floor,” I tell her.
“I know, but technically it’s one office as there are no walls.” She chuckles.
“We don’t know how to thank you for this,” Cassidy adds.
“Pay me in soft furnishing, that’s all I need.”
“Consider it done,” I tell her.
“Fantastic. I’m so happy for you guys. We are going to have to celebrate. Keep me posted on how it goes.”
“We will. And thank you again. You have no idea how much we appreciate it.”
“I do. Have fun. Bye.”
And with that, she hangs up.
“This is it. This is all ours,” I tell Cassidy.
I can’t believe our dreams are coming true.
Collette and I have been planning the engagement dinner since the night they got engaged, and we've taken over the rooftop terrace again. This time it isn't just the girls. Everyone is here to celebrate Emmett and Jo.
Cassidy and Sully’s parents flew in with my mom yesterday, and they have been split between our apartment and Emmett and Jo’s apartment.
It’s so great seeing Mom again, it feels like it’s been forever.
We showed our family the office, which has now been cleaned out.
We got the keys to it a couple of days ago, so it’s perfect timing.
We showed them our products and plans, and they are excited for us, which is a great relief.
Everyone is here, and the rooftop looks like a florist threw up everywhere, but it is really beautiful.
Collette and I decided on just a cocktail menu because everyone will want to mingle and talk to the happy couple, and this would be the easiest. Emmett and Jo are the first people to arrive as we wanted them to see what we had set up and ensure it met their requirements, which wasn’t much, they just wanted to celebrate.
“Guys!” Jo gasps as she sees the rooftop. “This is …” She seems lost for words.
“Can’t believe you guys organized this,” my brother says.
“Is it okay?” I ask him. He nods.
“Thank you,” Jo says, giving me a hug, she has tears in her eyes.
I’m so happy for them.
Everyone arrives at once after that. Mom gets to Jo first, holds both her hands, and looks at the ring for so long that Jo starts crying again. Maureen's not far behind her, and then Patrick, who hugs my brother so hard he lifts him off the ground, which is not a small thing to do to Emmett Black.
Then it's the boys, and the noise level doubles. Pierre hugs Jo and slaps Emmett on the back while welcoming him to the family. Bouch, Nelly, and Evan all congratulate the happy couple. Harper waddles in on Felix's arm, Jo gushes over the bump while Harper moans. Felix is in overprotective mode and quickly finds her a chair to sit in as he runs around looking after her. Sully finally comes over and wishes the happy couple well. We haven’t been ignoring each other since what happened in the kitchen, but we also haven’t spoken about it.
I think we’re both pretending it never happened.
Mom finds me by the drinks table with a glass of champagne in each hand, both hers.
“Your brother's getting married,” she says.
“I know. I love Jo, she’s the best.”
“She's good for him,” Mom says. We stand there watching him. He's got his arm around Jo, and he hasn't taken it off her since he walked in.
“I'm proud of you, you know,” Mom says.
“Of me? He's the one who …”
“Not about tonight, even though you put on a fantastic party.” She turns and looks at me properly.
“About all of it. What happened to you would have flattened most people, Em. I know how much you loved that life. And instead of falling apart you moved cities and started a business and made this.” She nods at the terrace.
“Look at it. Look at all these people who love you.”
“Mom.” I’ve had too much champagne for this talk as tears well in my eyes.
“I'm serious. I've watched you my whole life make things beautiful for other people. Kevin's houses. Kevin's business.” Her mouth goes tight for a second. “This is the first time I've seen you build something that's yours.”
I have to look at the floor. I will not cry.
“And I'll say one more thing, and then I'll stop,” she tells me.
“One day, I hope you meet someone,” she says it gently.
“Not now. But one day I want to watch you plan a future with somebody who deserves you.
You've got so much life ahead of you, sweetheart, and you spent all those years giving it to someone who was lying the whole time.”
“I know.” The tears come.
“I don’t want to upset you, sweetheart.” She pulls me into a hug. “I just don’t want you to give up on love because of him. That would be him taking one more thing.”
Across the terrace, Emmett laughs at something, and Jo elbows him. Maureen's telling a story with both hands, and Sully is standing at the edge of it with a beer, listening. He happens to glance over at exactly the wrong moment, and our eyes catch for about half a second before we both look away.
“I'm not giving up on it,” I say.
“Good.” Mom drains one of her glasses and starts on the other. “Because I want grandchildren before I'm dead.”
“Mom.”
“I'm just saying,” she pushes.
“Well, you’re going to have to rely on Emmett to give them to you. I am nowhere near that,” I warn her.
“True.” She chuckles. “I'm going.” She kisses my cheek. “You look happy, that's all I wanted to say.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I grumble. She gives me a small wave and dances off happily back into the crowd.
I'm fine. I am fine.
Dammit, I’m not fine. I look around to see if anyone notices me, but everyone is too busy drinking and chatting away to notice someone having a breakdown.
I’m just going to Irish exit for a moment to collect my thoughts.
Damn you, Mom. I exit the rooftop and take the lift back down to our apartment.
The quiet hits me like a wall. I get about four steps into the living room before it comes out of me, ugly and sudden, both hands over my face.
Not about tonight. Not about Emmett, I'm so happy for Emmett I could burst. It's Mom saying, ‘you built something that's yours’ and ‘I don't want you to give up on love because of him’ and then the stupid question about grandkids. My mom is hoping for a life that I don’t even know is going to happen for me.
I don't hear the door until Sully’s deep voice scares the shit out of me.
“Em?”
I spin around, and he’s standing there. His brows are pulled together as he takes me in.
“I'm fine,” I say immediately, wiping my cheeks.
“You look fine,” he says, giving me a small smile.
“I'm coming back up in a minute.”
He just nods at my answer.
“Mom just said something, and I’ve had too much champagne, and I don’t know, I’m just being a girl,” I tell him.
He crosses the room and stops in front of me. “Need a hug?” he asks as he opens his arms. I step into his embrace, and he hugs me tightly.
“Mom asked me for grandkids tonight.”
Sully stiffens. “Shouldn’t she be asking Emmett? He literally just got engaged.”
“That’s what I said. But it kind of got me thinking, and I probably shouldn’t be thinking in this state, and then I got sad because what happens if I never have a family? It would be another thing Kevin took away from me.” Sully hugs me tighter.
“If you think you have run out of time, I’ll have a baby with you.”
I still and lift my head to look up at him. He's already looking down at me, and the whole room changes. “Sully …”
“I mean it,” he says.
I shake my head. “You don't mean it.”
“Em.” He doesn't let go of me. “Look at me. If it came down to it and you wanted a kid and there was nobody else, you'd have to fight me off. That's not a joke.”
I don't know what to say to that. He's looking at me like it's the simplest thing in the world. Like he's offering to help me move a couch.
“You'd have a baby with me,” I say. “Just like that.”
He huffs a breath. “Yeah, just like that.”
Why is that hot? Something goes through my chest that I don't have a name for, and I'm too full of champagne and too raw from my mother to do anything sensible with it. So, I kiss him. Again.
He makes a sound against my mouth like it's been killing him, and then his hands are on my face, and he's kissing me back so hard I stop being able to think.
“Party,” he says against my lips.
“I know.”
“Hundred people upstairs.” He breaths heavily.
“Yep.”
“Em …”
“Don't stop,” I tell him. And he doesn't.
He backs me across the living room until my legs hit the arm of the sofa and shoves my dress up around my hips. I get his belt open and my hand around him, and he groans into my neck.
“Turn around.” His voice is low and rough.
There’s no room for argument and I do as I am told and turn.
Sully doesn’t ease into it, he shoves my dress up over my hips, yanks my underwear to the side, and pushes into me in one hard, deep stroke that steals the air from my lungs.
I bite down on my own arm to keep from crying out.
He doesn’t give me time to adjust. He fucks me hard and fast, one hand splayed across my stomach holding me tight against him, the other reaching around to find my clit.
His fingers work me in tight, ruthless circles while he pounds into me from behind, every thrust deep and punishing.
“Fuck, look at you,” he growls against my ear, voice filthy. “Taking my cock like this when we’re supposed to be somewhere else. You’re soaked. Dripping down my balls. Such a dirty fucking girl for me.”
I moan into my arm, pushing back to meet every thrust. The angle is perfect, he hits that spot inside me over and over, and the wet sound of him fucking me fills the quiet night air.
“You like this?” he demands, hand tightening on my stomach. “Like getting fucked over a couch like a little slut? Come on my cock, Em. Right fucking now.”
My legs give out as the orgasm rips through me, his name broken on my lips. He holds me up, fucking me through it, and four strokes later he follows with a low, guttural groan, face pressed into my shoulder as he comes deep inside me.
We stay like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, his cock still pulsing inside me. Eventually, he pulls out, fixes my dress, and turns me around, his eyes are dark, satisfied, and a little wild.
Neither of us says a word for the moment. We both know this is getting harder to stop.
“You go up, I have to um … freshen up.”
He gives me a heated look and nods. I watch him walk away, heart still racing, legs still shaky. The second the door closes, I lean against the couch and press a hand to my mouth.
We keep saying we’re going to stop.
We keep failing.
And the worst part is … I don’t think I want to stop.