16. Sterling
16
STERLING
“Fuck,” Denver grunts as he looks around the burned-out shell of Seasons, LA.
The stench of charred wood lances through my nostrils like acid, memories bubbling away just beneath the surface at the acrid aroma.
At least this time, it isn’t tinted with melted flesh.
“All this from one flame,” I mutter as I retrieve the remnants of a piano key from the floor.
“You want me to pay a visit to the guy, Boss?” Denver runs his tongue over his teeth and brings his thundered gaze to meet mine.
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
I drop the piano key into the ashes. A long-standing patron of ours, a judge, caused the fire when he got so pissed that he tried to light a cigar with a match and ended up dropping it into his drink. Rather than put it out calmly, he freaked and threw the glass away—straight into the top-shelf liquor behind the bar. The fire department said the place was an inferno by the time they got here.
“He just found out his wife has been having an affair with his brother,” I tell Denver. “He’ll pay for the damage, with interest, just to keep this all quiet.”
It’d be easy to go guns blazing for his blood at what he’s caused. But something tells me he’ll be shitting himself enough already. He’s already lost his wife; he won’t want to lose his career over this.
And I get it. The feeling of being betrayed.
“This is probably him,” I say as my phone rings with an unknown number.
Denver’s dark eyes sweep over the room again. “That’s going to be one big bill.”
I crack my neck as I survey what little is left one of my venues and hit answer. “Sure is.”
“If you want to move to the coast, live by the beach, you know you’re always welcome here.” My brother, Clay, steps out of the back door and onto the deck that runs along the rear of his house.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
He’s always talking about it, having us all live close to one another again. Me, him, and our brother, Jagger, who’s in Boston.
Denver and I left the LA team in charge of the cleanup of the club. He said he wanted to visit some old buddies, so he dropped me at Clay’s house and is coming back for me in the morning.
The sound of Clay’s wife, Adaline, reading a story to their two young grandsons floats out before Clay slides the door closed.
“They’ll want her to do the voices like you did,” he says, handing me a glass of bourbon.
“I’m sure she does much better wizard impressions than me.” I relax into my seat, looking out over the ocean.
Clay studies my face. “You worried about the club?”
“No. It’s being handled. Renovations start tomorrow.”
The judge was the one on the phone. He started spouting out figures, desperate to save his neck before I even greeted him.
He takes a sip of his drink. “And things back home? You filled me in on the kids and Mal and Trudy over dinner but missed out the dating stories. How’s that going?”
I meet his eyes, noting the twinkle in his.
“About as well as you’d expect, Brother.”
He chuckles. “Sinclair sure runs with an idea when she wants to.”
“She does. But it’s the happiest she’s been since getting Monty.”
He nods in understanding.
“She just keeps working, taking on more shoots, more shows. Same as Sullivan. If it weren’t for Molly, he’d never stop. Sinclair’s hit it off with Hallie, though. When I called earlier, she said they’re going shopping tomorrow.”
“Hallie? The dating coach?”
“That’s her.”
His eyes narrow and he studies me rolling my neck, attempting to ease the ache in it.
“What’s she like?”
“She’s…” My lips curl up. “… pretty damn incredible.”
“I see.” He lifts his glass with a knowing smirk. “Does she know?”
“She does.” My mind flits back to the way she whimpered my name as she came.
And the way I blew in my pants when she did.
“What you going to do? She’s from England, right?”
I tighten my grip around the glass.
“She’s leaving once I get back to New York.” I knock back the rest of the bourbon in one go, hissing as it burns a trail down to my stomach.
Clay studies me, before he looks out over the ocean.
“You’d rather she stays?”
“I’d rather she was my wife.”
His brows shoot up.
“Hallie’s…” I run a hand around my jaw. “She’s everything I lost faith in.”
There’s a peal of laughter from inside the house and Clay looks back toward the door with a grin.
“You’re a lucky man. Beautiful family… grandkids,” I muse as I listen to the sounds of life coming from inside.
“Molly will have company one day. Give Sullivan and Sinclair some time.”
“Perhaps.”
I run my thumb around the rim of my empty glass. Molly’s my only grandchild. A shining little ball of sunshine. Her mother’s long gone. How anyone could leave a little girl like that I’ll never understand. She’s pure innocence and love. Molly and her little baby dolls she takes everywhere.
The memory of Hallie talking so animatedly with her as she pretended to feed Molly’s doll grabs me around the heart and squeezes. It’s the moment I knew, really knew , that I never wanted Hallie to leave. Ever. That if I could have slid a ring on her finger there and then, I would have. And if I could have put our own baby in her belly that night in my office, then I would have done so without hesitation.
I could keep getting her pregnant as my wife and fill the world with tiny little versions of her. Fill it so damn full of her magic.
The thought grabs hold of my heart and pierces it like a dagger.
I’m fifty and dreaming of a life I can’t have.
Those things are for Hallie. The beautiful woman who monopolizes my thoughts night and day. She’s thirty. She has her whole life ahead of her. It would be selfish to tether her to me. No matter how much I want her. No matter how deep this connection to her is.
No matter that she’s my magic . That thing everyone talks about, that I’d stopped believing in.
But she had a choice, and she’s made it.
As soon as I return to Manhattan, she’ll be leaving.
Clay and I stay out on the deck until well after midnight, catching up. The following morning, I’m coloring in a giant red dinosaur with the two boys who slept over too. They’re laughing at the Beaufort Diamond earring I give the T-Rex as I soak up every minute I have with them before Denver arrives.
Sullivan’s name lights up the screen on my phone.
“Son?” I smile, adding an Indiana Jones style hat to the dinosaur. I wink at them, and they erupt into more giggles.
“Dad?”
His grim tone makes me put the crayon down.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m on my way to the hospital. Halliday was taken in. There was an issue with the paparazzi when she was out with Sinclair.”
My blood turns to ice. “What?”
“Sinclair said they’re both fine. But I’m heading there now to meet them.”
“Jesus… Okay.” I scrub a hand around my jaw. “Denver’s on his way to Clay’s now. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Call me when you get to the hospital and tell me what’s going on.”
“I will.”
“And, Son? Take care of the girls.”
“I will. See you when you get back.”
I hang up and check my watch. It’ll be at least five hours until we make it back.
I dial Denver immediately, but the sound of a vehicle screeching to a halt outside drowns out the ringing.
Seconds later, there’s hammering on the front door, and I rush to open it.
“Boss. Sinclair?—”
I meet Denver’s dark expression. “I know.”
He grabs my packed bag that’s on the hallway floor.
“I’ll wait in the car.”
I say goodbye to Adaline and Clay, giving the boys a hard squeeze before I stride out the door and to the waiting vehicle.
Denver speeds off before my door even closes.