Chapter 19
19
WESTON
A fter our incredibly frustrating meeting, Easton and I climb into the back of an SUV, the scent of leather mingling with the faint traces of rain on the asphalt. The engine hums to life, and as we pull away, I glance at my watch. It’s just after five.
“I’m so fucking sick and tired of playing the same song and dance where they expect a different result, knowing I won’t budge on my decisions,” Easton complains, his irritation evident.
Granted, it was a four-hour meeting that should’ve only lasted two, so I understand his irritation. I’m not thrilled about it either.
“It’s a big investment for them to partner with us. That’s to be expected,” I remind him. “Fuck, I bet Lexi is glad you’re not like this at home.”
“My wife never tests my patience.” He rolls his eyes dramatically.
“No, you just enjoy it and find it endearing when Lexi does it. There’s a difference,” I tell him teasingly.
“Maybe,” he replies, a smirk breaking through.
We both know it’s the truth.
My brother has very little patience in the business world. He’s always the bad cop while I play the role of the comedic relief, the king’s jester in this cutthroat arena. Often, it’s necessary because he tends to go too hard, bulldozing through meetings like a freight train. Easton is a known hard-ass who takes no shit from anyone, a reputation forged in the fires of ruthless negotiations. I tend to read the room better than he does, which makes us great partners—yin and yang. We make deals happen, even the impossible ones.
“I get so fucking annoyed, having to constantly repeat myself,” Easton huffs, his voice low but intense. “It’s not difficult to listen and comprehend.”
“Now it’s over, so you don’t have to think about it anymore,” I say, fully aware he’s still aggravated.
He clenches his jaw, revealing the relentless pressure he puts on himself.
“Until Wednesday, when we meet again,” he mumbles. “I might let you handle that one alone.”
“Whatever you need,” I reply, knowing he’ll rise to the occasion when the time comes.
The industry calls us double trouble because we make billion-dollar deals happen that turn heads and reshape markets. Everyone knows the diamond princes always get what they want in life. We might’ve been born with golden spoons in our mouths, but we’ve worked tirelessly to preserve what’s ours, clawing our way to the top of the business world while remaining fiercely loyal to our family’s legacy.
His phone buzzes with a text, and I see a grin spread across his face. I know it’s Lexi. She’s the only one who can successfully turn his frown upside down. She’s his sunshine, breaking through clouds after a storm. Knowing I helped bring them together might be one of my greatest accomplishments.
He types something quickly, his fingers flying over the screen, and then glances back at me. “Are you attending Asher’s party tonight?”
Asher Banks is one of my and Easton’s friends. He also owns one of the most successful advertising and marketing firms in the world. Tonight, he’s throwing a party for his close friends.
“Is Lexi asking, or are you?” I chuckle lightly.
He shakes his head. “She said she’d only go if you and Carlee were attending.”
“First, I haven’t invited Carlee. And second, I haven’t decided.” My mind drifts to last night and falling asleep with her in my arms.
My brother notices, revealing a flicker of something in his expression, but he doesn’t call me on it. “I’d rather stay home.”
“What else is new?” I smile, knowing he prefers his alone time, enjoying the quiet moments away from the chaos of our lives. “But I do think I have to attend to discuss specifics about something with Asher. You should join me.”
Easton’s brows quirk upward, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Regarding?”
“I can’t tell you.”
His brows knit together. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I briefly glance away, feeling the weight of the secret pressing down on me. “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“I’m not anyone .” His annoyance returns and radiates from him like heat from a fire. “That’s ridiculous that you’d agree to keep things from me.”
I smirk, knowing this shit gets under his skin. “You know, if it had something to do with us or anything we’re doing, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you, but it doesn’t. And I can’t fully talk about it yet without gathering more information.”
He narrows his eyes, a storm brewing behind them. “Is it relationship-related?”
I chuckle, amused that he’d go there, of all places. “Not this time.”
The road noise from the tires fills the back seat.
“What’s going on with you and Carlee?” he asks bluntly, cutting through the silence like a knife .
“I have no fucking clue,” I reply truthfully, a wave of confusion washing over me.
Easton interlocks his fingers and glares at me, his intense gaze unyielding. “I know you probably don’t want to take my relationship advice, but sometimes, you just have to go for it. You’re falling in love with her, and you can’t hide that from me.”
“That’s an assumption.” I flick my gaze toward him, feeling defensive.
“ Bullshit. When Carlee is around, your whole demeanor changes, and I can tell she makes you really fucking happy. I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to understand how this happened. I already know the why. I’m convinced you two have been seeing each other for a very long time because I know you, dear brother, and I know you don’t fall in love with people overnight. That’s not your MO.”
“Nah, that’s yours. But, hey, glad to know I’m living rent-free in your head.”
“How did it start?”
He’s direct, but that approach doesn’t work on me. I’m immune to his tactics, like a seasoned warrior on the battlefield.
I chuckle, brushing off his question. “It’s not your business. However, I know you’ve been talking about me with her.” Carlee basically admitted I’m a topic of conversation during our dinner date.
His eyes narrow, hard as steel. “I have. Many times.”
“Tell me.”
“What was it you just said to me? It’s not your fucking business or concern.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll find out.” I grin, confident that my determination will lead me to the truth.
They’ve talked about me. Easton says he’s not getting involved, but I don’t believe him.
He clears his throat. “I’ll just say this: she’s looking for forever with someone. Don’t waste her time. ”
My brows furrow. “I respect her too much for that.”
“Yeah, but your reputation precedes you. And I know you get bored.”
“ I get bored? Please. ” I roll my eyes, dismissing him. “I still have a lot of undoing to do. Oh, before I forget, I talked to our publicist today. Gabriella sent me the documentation Lena released of our text conversations this morning. Most were taken out of context, and the dates were edited to make it seem like we were still talking and that I was madly in love with her. She also wrote a seventy-five-page manifesto on why I should take her back and how good we were together, detailing private conversations and moments we’d shared during the three years we were married.”
“ Fuck her. Especially after what she did to you,” Easton hisses, his voice low and dangerous. “Did she mention any of her wrongdoings?”
“Accountability isn’t something she will ever take. Gabriella also warned me that if another one of my relationships ends like that one, it won’t be good for business. The only thing that saved our company’s image was you and Lexi. The foundation of Calloway Diamonds was built on love, and I won’t do anything that could potentially hurt us.”
“Live your life first. We will figure out everything else,” he says, a serious expression etched across his face. “Life is too short, Weston. That’s not a suggestion.”
“So, a direct order? Got it,” I reply, smiling. Warmth floods my chest as I know my brother wants the best for me. “I’m so lucky to have you by my side.”
“I feel the same.” He smiles back.
“Gabriella also suggested a fake engagement. Not related, but my lawyer believes he has a solution to expedite things with Lena.”
Easton’s brow rises in genuine surprise. “Great about the lawyer, but explain the fake engagement.”
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea after my very public divorce.” I glance at him as a sly grin spreads across my face. “We’ll see. ”
“It worked for me. You’d ask Carlee, wouldn’t you?” He smirks, leaning back in his seat as if reminiscing about falling in love.
I ignore his question.
“We’re still in PR crisis mode,” I continue, my voice steady but tinged with urgency, “but the public’s perception has shifted significantly in my favor with the prospect of a new relationship on the horizon. The blind items actually helped.”
He studies me intently, his eyes narrowing as if searching for hidden motives. “What’s the plan?”
“She suggested that Carlee and I should be seen together in public several times. We need to be transparent about our relationship initially and allow the public to draw their own conclusions. That’s easy.” I pause, considering the implications. “After one month, she suggested a proposal, with the intention of having a lengthy engagement.”
Easton holds my gaze, unamused. “And what will you do if you want to be with someone else?”
“We’ll break it off and communicate to the public that we were better as friends while continuing to be seen together. An amicable split,” I explain, trying to keep the tone light, though the weight of the situation is far from it.
“You won’t be able to pretend forever, Weston.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off. “I’ll invite Carlee if it means you’ll be there tonight. It might be nice to introduce her to everyone, considering we’ll be seen together going forward.”
He struggles to suppress a smile. “And this is how it begins. I can’t fucking wait. An official Carlee reveal.”
“No. It’s unrelated.” I shake my head, shifting my tone to serious. “I need a second set of eyes and ears.”
“This sounds serious. At least give me some idea of what’s going on. I don’t need every detail, but if you need intel, I need to understand why.”
I sigh heavily as the gravity of the situation crashes down on me. “I believe Billie’s fashion company is in serious fucking trouble.”
His jaw tightens as something flashes in his eyes. “We spoke yesterday, and she didn’t mention anything.”
“And she won’t,” I reply, frustration lacing my words. “She’s too proud and stubborn, just like us. I have to speak to Asher because he’s a crucial piece of this.”
“Damn,” he says, exhaling sharply, knowing that Asher Banks runs one of the most successful marketing companies in the world.
Only the top-tier clients hire him and his team—a privilege that comes with a hefty price tag. His brother, Nicolas—a partner and one of the best corporate attorneys money can buy—only enhances their cutthroat reputation. The stakes are high, but I will do anything to protect my baby sister.
“What are you wearing to this cocktail party? I assume we’re twinning?” he groans.
“Oh, you love it. I recently picked up my burgundy suit from the dry cleaners,” I explain. “I’ll probably wear that.”
“Great,” he tells me as the SUV stops in front of The Park.
The high-rise building contrasts with the deepening purple hues of the evening sky.
I check my text messages, acutely aware that the items I ordered have been delivered to the front desk.
Easton and I step out, entering a flurry of flashing cameras.
“Just smile,” I tell him, chuckling at the absurdity of our situation.
He shakes his head. A mix of humor and annoyance plays across his face. “We’re not that interesting.”
“Eh, speak for yourself,” I reply, throwing him a wink.
“Do you want to ride together tonight?” he asks, his voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd.
“That would be great. I’ll let you know if Carlee is available since Lexi will only attend if she’s going to be there. One second,” I add, waving at the building manager, who is just within earshot .
“Mr. Calloway, I have the items you had delivered,” she says, handing me a crisp garment bag and a box wrapped in shimmering paper.
Easton and I step into the elevator together, the hum of classical music surrounding us. He glances at the items in my hands, curiosity lighting up his expression.
“Gifts? I know what that means.” His brow quirks upward. “If I haven’t mentioned it before, I support this relationship. After getting to know her better, I agree that you two would be perfect together. Your personalities complement one another.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep your opinion in mind. I’ll text you with a confirmation if she joins me,” I assure him. “No guarantees though. Carlee has her own life.”
“She’ll be there.” He steps out of the elevator, chuckling to himself. “You’re both so damn transparent.”
“Please kindly fuck off,” I say with a grin as the doors slide shut.
When I’m alone, I suck in a deep breath, the weight of the evening settling on my shoulders. I know I need to play my cards correctly tonight.
I unlock the door to my penthouse, wondering if Carlee is home from work yet. My question is quickly answered when I find her asleep on the couch, resting comfortably, still wearing her work uniform. She looks so damn pretty and peaceful, her chest gently rising and falling with each shallow breath. I could watch her sleep the rest of the evening.
I quietly move closer, setting everything down, and then I kneel beside her. I place my hand on her shoulder, gently brushing my thumb across her arm, almost feeling guilty for waking her.
“Carlee,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath.
Her eyes open, and she blinks up at me with a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I grin, warmth flooding my chest.
“I must’ve fallen asleep,” she says as she sits up.
Her arms instinctively wrap around my neck, and she hugs me tightly. I hold her close, feeling the whirlwind of her emotions swirling around us—a connection that I cherish and crave.
“What’s going on?” I ask, not letting her go, unease creeping into my thoughts.
“I got fired.” Her voice breaks as she releases a ragged breath that carries the weight of her worries.
She lets me go, and I sit beside her on the couch.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask gently.
“I had arrived late because the train had been delayed, the bus wasn’t on time, and it was just a disaster. And I was so fucking tired,” she explains, her voice trembling as frustration spills from her. “My life feels like it’s crashing down around me.”
“I’m so sorry. Do you want me to make a phone call? I can?—”
“No,” she says, breathing out. “My routine was thrown off because I was here, running on little sleep. My apartment isn’t safe, and I’m probably going to have to move. Now, I’m jobless. My best friend no longer has time for me, and I haven’t seen my family in years. Not to mention, my laptop—with a handful of videos, along with my journal—was stolen.” She lets out a huff.
I try to hold back a burst of laughter and fail, the absurdity of the situation bubbling to the surface. I wanted her to quit so we’d have more time together. Instead, she was fired. It’s almost like an invisible force is pushing us together. I wish she’d stop fighting it.
“My life sucks, and you’re laughing at me!” she mutters, annoyance seeping into her voice.
I smile, smoothing down her hair, which is sticking up in disarray, the wild strands reflecting the chaos she feels inside.
“I’m not laughing at you, I promise. I just find you so damn adorable.”
“I’m having a crisis,” she insists, her voice rising.
“Let me help you solve your problems. One can be solved immediately if you move in with me,” I offer. The lightness in my tone breaks through. “I have plenty of space. We’ll be roommates.”
“And what if I want to bring guys home after my dates? You’d be fine with that? Because, as of right now, we’ve made zero agreements, Weston.” Her eyebrow arches, testing my resolve with seriousness.
“I’ll always respect your privacy,” I assure her.
“That wasn’t my question,” she replies, a smirk growing on her lips as she crosses her arms.
“I want you to be happy. That’s it. If you’re happy, I am.” I smile, shifting gears, eager to lighten the conversation. “Not to change the subject, but I did get you something.”
I reach toward the wrapped box, its shimmering surface catches the light, and I hand it to Carlee. She immediately shakes it.
“Can you guess?” I ask.
“No.” She shakes it again. “I used to be really good at this game when I was a kid.”
Carefully, she tears the corner, taking her time, not ripping the paper, as if she were unwrapping a precious artifact. A gasp escapes her when she reveals the laptop. “Weston.”
“You need this,” I say, warmth flooding my voice. “LadyLux has some major shit to write about.”
“Thank you. I …” She shakes her head in disbelief; her expression is full of gratitude. “I don’t deserve your kindness and support.”
“You deserve more than I can ever give,” I confirm. “What are your plans tonight?”
She inhales deeply, her shoulders loosening. “Eating a tub of ice cream and, well …”
“Mmm. Sounds like fun. Can you do that after a dinner party I need to attend? I’d like you to join me.”
Carlee studies me. Skepticism etched on her face, the hint of a smile threatening to break through her facade. “I don’t have anything to wea?—”
“Taken care of.” I stand, handing her a garment bag. “I’d like to introduce you to my friends. ”
“Your real friends?” she asks, the tone I love so much returning to her voice.
“Yes,” I confirm.
“Is this my first public appearance?” she asks, tilting her head with a raised brow, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes.
“We’ve already experienced public appearances together. However, Easton mentioned that he and Lex would only attend if you did.”
“So, I’m a pity invite?” She frowns, disappointment flickering in her eyes.
“No, babe. You’re the only person I want by my side tonight.” I smile. “But we’re running out of time, and I need a shower. Want to join me?”
She licks her lips, her eyes trailing down my body suggestively. Tension thickens in the air between us.
“The invitation is open.”
I begin to walk toward the stairs, loosening my tie, the silk slipping through my fingers. I can feel her intense gaze burning into my back, and it fuels my anticipation. As I glance over at her, I catch her contemplating her next move. I drift out of sight and walk up the stairs.
Carlee has always played her cards close to her chest; she’s a master of poker faces and subtle hints, but lately, she’s been placing big bets on us. The stakes rise each time our eyes meet, and our bodies touch.
We’re standing on the edge of a cliff, and I’m reaching out my hand to her. Will she take it?