Chapter Thirty-Three Sophie
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sophie
"Oh, my..." I breathe out as Callum pulls my car up to the valet, the hotel coming into full view.
The Salvatore was beautiful—tall and dressed in dark espresso brick. Bronze accents caught the late-morning sun, making the entire facade gleam. Above the entrance, The Salvatore International stood out in elegant, simple, yet beautiful lettering.
I'd stayed in nice hotels before, but nothing like this.
You can feel the luxury pouring from it. I turn my head to share a look with Callum, only to see his eyes already on me. We share an excited smile. Callum lifts our joined hands and kisses the back of mine as the valet walks up to open my door.
"Hello, Miss. Welcome to The Salvatore," he says, holding out his hand to assist me out of the car.
I step out and thank him, then reach into the back to grab my purse and our garment bags, which hold our gala outfits.
Callum's there already, our shared suitcase in one hand and my keys in the other, getting the ticket in return.
Callum's truck was good for lugging things around Starling Cove. For city driving, though—especially in a city like Boston with its narrow, winding streets—it was not ideal. Plus, my sedan got better mileage per gallon.
Earlier that morning, Callum had thankfully offered to drive so I could nap on the way into the city, which I was extremely grateful for.
My body's been growing more tired lately, and I've taken to sneaking in naps whenever I can.
Last night, I even fell asleep on Callum's shoulder while we watched the sunset.
I woke up mortified to realize he'd carried me from the boardwalk back to his truck.
He hadn't seemed to mind, though—just pressed a kiss to my forehead and tucked me into bed before heading home.
This past week has been a whirlwind—between dress shopping, where Bailey helped me find the perfect dress for the gala, working my regular job, and organizing Rivers & Rhodes' finances into an easy-to-understand spreadsheet for Callum and Maeve.
The latter had looked at the spreadsheet as if she didn't trust it—and I knew Maeve had a semi-aversion to technology, saying it interfered with her reading energies.
Callum, on the other hand, had looked impressed by my Excel skills, and yeah, that might have made me preen—only a little.
Bailey was right—the article was good publicity for the store, and traffic had picked up considerably.
Starling Cove already draws people for day trips because of its boardwalk, beach, festivals, and adorable downtown stores, but Callum said the store slows down in the fall and winter.
The majority of their customers are locals who much prefer shopping with them rather than traveling 30 minutes to reach the nearest corporate chain bookstore.
From reviewing the store's numbers, I could confidently say that Rivers & Rhodes was doing very well—every month, there was enough to cover every expense with a good amount left to save.
Even during the slower months, they had a cushion to carry them over.
Callum and Maeve had no debt and good relationships with their distributors, and worked smartly when stocking the store.
Callum had even shown me his personal finances, impressing me with how responsibly he managed everything. He didn't use a spreadsheet system like mine, but he had his own method of keeping things organized.
His personal savings account held a pretty substantial amount, enough to make my eyebrows raise.
He explained the source: mainly from his father's estate, a portion of the proceeds from his childhood house that he split with his mother, and a life insurance payout received after his father's sudden death.
They owned the building the bookstore was in—William had bought it for them when they planned to open the store and had initially intended to rent out the upstairs apartment.
Of course, that changed after he passed, and they sold their house to move into it instead.
Callum even says they could hire an employee at the store now.
So far, they have kept it just him and his mother.
That was all they needed, really. Callum admitted a little sheepishly that he didn't have much to do during the day—at least, before me.
Not that he was lonely or a shut-in. He had the book club and sometimes grabbed a beer with Tonya and Atticus, but overall, he preferred his routine and doing more mellow things.
Mellow perfectly matched my current energy level, which I really appreciated about him.
Callum loved the simple things—sunsets, watching movies together, easy walks, and reading.
The simplicity and ease of our relationship are comforting, and also a little nerve-racking, like waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And I also feel a little guilty, because being with Callum feels so effortless, and I'm sure I'm anything but.
I've gotten over the whole worry that I'm setting him up for grief.
I trust Callum and his words, that I am worth it to him.
He has bent over backward for me in all aspects through this battle.
I try to do things for him in return: pay for our dinners when he's not looking, or call ahead to pay when we pick it up, bake him banana bread, and help out around the store.
Still, I worry I'm not doing enough. I'm just used to doing so much more in my past relationship—
Yeah, and that didn't stop Paul from cheating on you, even before the diagnosis. You tried so hard to be easy, to do all of the work and make his life easy, and for what?
I don't even want to focus on that. I want to enjoy this weekend getaway with Callum. I smile as I glance between us, our linked hands, and Callum catches my eye and squeezes mine.
Enjoy the weekend with your man, Sophie. You deserve it.
Funny how that voice in my head sounds like Tess and Tonya, so I'm going to listen to it.
"Wow..." I murmur as we step into the lobby.
If I thought the exterior was gorgeous, the interior is something else entirely.
Polished black marble floors stretch beneath our feet, while the warm lighting from the bronze grand chandelier softens everything into a hazy glow. The walls are decorated with intricate sconces and romantic artwork.
In the center of the lobby, a gorgeous fountain displays a romantic vignette of a man dancing with a woman while water poured softly, the sound instantly putting me at ease.
People walk through the lobby, the space filled with the low hum of check-ins, women's heels clicking softly against the floor, and the sound of laughter peeling from the entrance to the hotel restaurant, Clarity.
"I can't believe Michael's parents own this," I breathe out, and Callum chuckles softly, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere.
"I knew he came from money, but this is..." Callum shakes his head, eyes catching on the ornate chandelier above us. "Incredible."
"Are you excited?" I ask him, and he immediately looks at me and grins.
"I'm excited to spend the weekend with you, all to myself." Callum grins, and I lean over to kiss his broad shoulder. "What about you, baby?"
The sweetly said nickname causes my stomach to swoop for a second, delaying my response. "I'm... a little nervous for the gala," I finally admit, but beam brightly at my next words. "But, I'm excited for tomorrow."
Callum had decided that since we were spending the weekend in Boston, we would go all out.
He said he would organize an entire day of things to do and sights to see, and despite my asking if he needed help planning, he promptly shut that down, saying this weekend was his treat and that all I had to do was sit pretty.
He had no idea how nice it was just to let someone else take over the planning and organization of something for once.
While my control freak tendencies were rebelling, I told them to be quiet and let my otter work some magic.
I had promised myself I would go out, and while I hadn't ventured out from Starling Cove these last two months—I underestimated how much chemo would knock me on my ass—I'm determined to keep the promise to myself and go sightseeing.
When I had written that letter to myself, I had thought that I would do this alone. And I was fine with that, I could be alone—it would suck, but as I've learned, I'm a lot stronger than I thought.
Stronger than Paul thought.
And I'm not alone. I was never alone through this, not for a minute.
Especially not with the man holding my hand.
Callum and I walk up to the front desk to check in with a very sweet, soft-spoken woman named Francesca. She has auburn-colored hair, creamy skin, and deep brown doe eyes. Her smile is shy, but she speaks with confidence as she gathers our information and checks us in swiftly.
She smiles, handing over an envelope with our room keys, "Okay, Miss Bracken, Mr. Rhodes, you will be in the..."
Francesca trails off, her eyes tracking something over my shoulder. She wears a slightly dreamy look. I follow her gaze and do a double-take—Michael's clone is walking across the lobby.
Theo, the twin.
During our dress shopping adventure, Bailey had talked about her future in-laws, and I learned even more about my friend.
Bailey's mother was a chemist and had started a makeup company when Bailey was a baby.
Her mother was brilliant and had patented long-lasting lipstick formulations that are still used in many brands today.
After her mother sold the company and Bailey graduated from Boston University with a degree in journalism, her family moved to Portugal and now live in a beautiful home off the coast.
She spoke about how the Salvatores had immediately accepted her into their family, which was a comfort when she was missing her mom and dad. She also told me that Michael has a twin, but the brothers couldn't be more different personality-wise.