4. KATE
4
KATE
M y body is still buzzing with adrenaline as I push open the doors to the bar. I need to ground myself, or I won’t be able to focus on Jack, his birthday, and whatever his great surprise is.
Amazingly, I’m still early. The bar is almost empty and soft music filters through hidden speakers. The lighting is dim, and the floor is dark stone. On one side, the wall is entirely glass, leading out to the balcony and the glittering lights of London beyond. It’s glamorous without being too showy.
I spot Jack at the bar, perched on a red velvet stool. He’s flirting with one of the waitresses, who’s filling glasses of champagne. She stops what she’s doing and leans across to help him fix his bow tie. I want to laugh; I’ve seen that move before. He’s incorrigible.
“Happy birthday!” I cry as I cross the room towards him.
Jack spins to face me and his lips part in a huge, cheeky grin. He pushes off the stool, dwarfing the small waitress, who gawks as if his stature is both impressive and shocking. Even I can’t deny that he’s looking pretty damn handsome in his tux this evening—sleek lines and good tailoring accentuate his pale blue eyes, dark hair, and the slight cleft in his chin. I feel a burst of pride that this man is my brother.
Warmth spreads through me as he pulls me into a massive hug, like my nervous system is being dipped in a bath. It’s just what I need. My brother is eight years older than me, and being hugged by him is one of the most comforting things in my life, not least because it reminds me of Dad. They even smell the same; clean, like fresh laundry, but with a smokier element too, as though their jacket was hanging next to a wood-fire moments before they put it on.
Jack releases me and stands back to look me over, his lips tipping up at the corners, when suddenly his attention shifts to something over my shoulder.
“Nico!” he yells. “Get over here.”
My body goes haywire, every nerve ending firing off at high speed. So much for grounding myself.
I look back towards the door to see Nico pacing towards us, closing the distance with a few long strides. There isn’t a hint of hesitation in his graceful movement.
“Happy Birthday,” Nico says to Jack, and they clutch one another’s hands for a second, before drawing into one of those manly hugs that ends with a thump on the shoulder blade as they separate. They’re both grinning, pleased to see each other, and they exchange a few pleasantries.
“Little K,” Nico says to me with a respectful nod of the head, as if we haven’t already done this.
A brief silence follows, and Jack looks between us, his gaze settling on me. He’s expecting me to say something, but I’m too preoccupied trying to make sense of the way my body is reacting to Nico’s presence.
“It’s Nico,” Jack tells me, as if my silence means I’ve forgotten who he is. “Nico Hawkston.”
“I know.” My tone is cool, even though I’m fizzing beneath the skin.
“We spoke in the lift,” Nico explains to Jack. “And now we’ve exhausted all conversation.”
I can’t tell if he’s joking, but it’s a fair assessment of the situation. I’m not about to make small talk with Nico fucking Hawkston if I don’t have to. Jack’s perturbed gaze bounces between us.
“Don’t tell me this is your big news?” I ask my brother. “Nico Hawkston’s back in town?”
In my peripheral vision, Nico flinches. It’s not a bodily flinch, but a tightening of the muscles around his dark eyes. Maybe I sounded more sarcastic than I meant to, but I’m still wondering what Jack’s ‘ huge-fucking news’ is, and hoping this isn’t it.
Jack swipes a glass of champagne from the bar and hands it to me like nothing’s wrong, but when he smiles, his lips pull away awkwardly from his teeth. Nothing about it is natural.
It sets me on edge.
Jack hands Nico a champagne glass too. Nico takes it, a slight crease marring the space between his dark brows.
We stand—an awkward circle of three—until Jack thrusts his hand into the middle and raises his glass in a toast.
“To us,” he says.
I don’t move. Why is Jack toasting ‘us’ like we’re all best of friends when Nico screwed over our dad, disappeared off to America, and has avoided me for eight years?
Nico hasn’t raised his glass either. His eyes dart to Jack, an accusatory glint in them. “You didn’t tell her,” he says.
“Tell me what?” I ask, confused.
The light in Jack’s eyes dies. “Well, fuck,” he mutters.
I look between the two of them. “What’s going on? Can one of you spit it out, please?”
Nico makes a throaty noise, which could be a laugh, could be a groan. Whatever it is, he’s deferring this one to Jack.
Jack takes a great, heaving inhalation, then blows the words out like a confession. “I’ve had an offer for the company.”
Air stalls in my lungs. An offer ? To sell the company ? What the hell ? I haven’t been working my arse off at Dad’s company for the last five years so we can sell it. I put my champagne glass back on the bar, straining to keep my voice level when I say, “I wasn’t aware you were thinking of selling.”
A flicker of uncertainty darts across Jack’s face. “I should have told you, but I wanted to sort through the details first. The offer’s a good one. Really fucking good.”
A vicious heat burns in my chest. I can’t believe he’s making a decision like this without consulting me. I try to hide my shock, but I’m sure Jack can see it. He sips his drink, eyes wary as he waits for me to recover.
I dare a glance at Nico, whose gaze is flicking between me and Jack, and my skin prickles, my intuition giving me a warning. Please, no .
Focusing on my brother, I ask, “Who’s the buyer?”
“I am,” Nico says.
My stomach drops.
No. It plummets .
I swing to face Nico, forgetting about Jack entirely, and hold my palm up. “Oh no. Not fucking you. We are not selling Dad’s company to you.”
“Kate, please,” Jack reprimands, but I ignore him. He should’ve known I would never go for this.
Nico, whose composure has barely faltered in the face of my outburst, bows his head. “I’ll let the two of you discuss this in private.” He takes a step back. It’s such a dignified response compared to mine that a hot rush of shame blasts through me.
Jack reaches out to him. “No, Nico. Stay.”
Nico shakes his head, mahogany hair flopping over his forehead. “Talk this out. Then come back to me.”
Jack opens his mouth to speak, but Nico’s already turning away. I don’t know where he’s going, and right now I don’t care.
Jack puts his champagne next to mine on the bar. “That was… fuck, Kate.” He clenches a fist and lets out a frustrated groan. “That was rude. I know you’re angry, but—”
“You cannot sell Lansen to Nico.” My jaw is so tight the words scrape out.
Jack stands taller. “I bloody can. No one else is going to give us an offer like this. And Nico’s practically family.”
“He’s not my family,” I fire back. “He’ll never be my family.”
Jack sighs. “Don’t you even want to know how much he’s laid on the table?”
“No!” I slam my hand on the bar.
The waitress’ eyes widen and she shoots a hand out to steady the nearby champagne glasses. At the same moment, Jack rears back, hands raised like I’m pointing a gun at his chest.
“Woah. I didn’t do this to upset you. I hope you know that. I’ve been running this company for nearly a decade. I know what I’m doing. And selling it to Nico makes sense.”
I slide my hand off the bar. My palm stings like a bitch, but I pretend it doesn’t.
“I don’t know how you can even contemplate this.” I’m trying to keep my voice calm, but my words have a hoarse, raw edge. “Nico had his chance to buy the company and he fucked it up—”
“It’s different now.”
“How? How is it different? He’s still the same ambitious bastard he was back then. He completely screwed Dad over.” The pitch of my voice is rising, but I can’t stop. “He might as well have murdered him with his own hands—”
“Kate, please. I don’t want to fight about this. Be reasonable.”
Be reasonable ? I might not own the company like Jack does, but I am his sister. Doing the deal behind my back feels like a betrayal. And doing it with Nico Hawkston? That’s the worst.
I cross my arms to contain the heat expanding in my chest.
“I’m not denying that this is hard.” Jack reaches out to touch me, then decides against it and lets his arm fall. “He was my father too. But if there’s one thing I know about Nico, it’s that he’s incredibly loyal—”
“Are you joking? Because I don’t see that at all.”
Jack’s eyes swivel to the door, where the first guests are trickling in. I can tell he wants to tell me to keep it down, but instead he steps closer and lowers his voice. “Can you just trust me on this?”
“Is it about the money? Because—”
“No. It’s not the money, although I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter. The money represents what we’ve done. What we’ve achieved. We aren’t in opposition here. Can’t you see that? This is how we honour Dad. You with the spa project, and me with the sale. Dad wanted both of those things. You know he did.”
I take a moment to consider this. Dad did want the sale, but if he had known how it would play out, I doubt he would have pursued it. “The spa project didn’t fucking kill him, though, did it?” Bitterness spills from my words.
Jack lowers his head, rubs the back of his neck, then looks back at me. “Let’s discuss this later. When you’ve had time to digest it.”
“I don’t need time,” I snap. “Do not sign the company over to that man.”
“I’m not asking your permission.” Of course, he isn’t . “Here.” He takes a rolled up sheaf of papers out of his pocket and holds it out to me. “Take a look at the contract.”
There’s already a contract ? I stare at it but make no move to take it. “How long have you been in negotiations?”
“A few weeks.”
An unpleasant sensation throbs at my solar plexus. They’ve left me out. “Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you trust me?”
A tiny muscle on Jack’s jaw clenches and relaxes. “I had to make the best choice for the company, and Nico is it. This is business, and I knew you’d get personal.”
It is personal. Not telling me until the last minute feels calculated… but I don’t want to ruin Jack’s party by throwing a full-on tantrum.
The crowd of people by the entrance has grown. They’re spilling into the room. We’ve got seconds to bring this conversation to a close before the swarm of well-wishers reaches us.
Jack forces the contract into my hand. “Read it over. It’s a lot of money. Too much to say no to. We won’t get better than this.”
My fingers cinch around the paper, crumpling it. I’d tear the damn thing up if I dared, but as much as I would love to deny it, I want to know how much money Nico’s laying on the line for the business.
“What about my spa project?” I breathe. “I had news to tell you about it.” I’d been so happy about my progress, but what with Mum dismissing it and now Jack telling me he’s selling the company, I feel foolish. Childish, even. Out of nowhere, my throat gets a little choked up.
Jack leans towards me, looking concerned. “What news? Tell me?” His voice is gentle.
The urge to cry is so fierce that I’m sure my eyes must be wet, but when I wipe them with my fingertips, they come away dry. “I’m finally getting traction. I had a meeting with David Webster earlier and he’s agreed to do it. We’re building Dad’s spa.”
Jack’s face breaks into a smile of genuine warmth. “Oh, Kate. That’s incredible. Well done.”
I swallow back the lump that’s sprouted in my throat. “Does it even matter now that you’re selling everything?”
Jack pulls me into another hug, and for a few moments, I soak it up. “Of course it matters. This is huge.” He squeezes me, then pushes me away, his hands clamped to my upper arms. “You’ve worked hard for this. Dad would be so proud.”
This is the recognition I wanted when I told Mum earlier, and finally hearing it from Jack only intensifies my emotions, which are already running riot tonight. By the time I extract myself from his hold, my throat is completely choked up. “Thanks,” I croak.
“You’ll get to keep the project,” Jack adds. “Nico will let you manage it.”
He’s talking as though the sale is a done deal, and my annoyance rises again. I can’t take much more of this emotional yo-yoing.
Arms wrap around me from behind and squeeze my waist. I yelp just as my best friend Elly releases me and steps into view. She’s grinning, but she takes one look at my teary face and squares up to Jack.
“What did you do to her?” She snarls, and the expression, paired with her wild mane of blonde curls, makes her look like a furious lioness.
I tuck the contract into my bag, knowing it’s confidential and even if I wanted to explain it to Elly, I couldn’t. “Honestly, it’s nothing.”
She raises an eyebrow at me, then glares at Jack, but her hostility doesn’t find its mark as his admiring gaze sweeps over her in return. She looks gorgeous in her white mini dress and cowboy boots, but Jack would look at anyone that way. He’s the biggest flirt there is. “Hey there, El,” he says, his voice velvety smooth.
She rolls her eyes and focuses on me. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just sad Dad can’t be here.”
Elly’s bottom lip turns downward, her blue eyes full of compassion. “Oh, Kate. I’m sure he’s watching you both.”
Her comment hovers undisturbed for a few seconds, and then she hugs me again. “This’ll cheer you up,” she whispers before releasing me and turning to Jack. “I got you something.” She pulls a small tissue wrapped parcel from her bag. Her eyes twinkle, mouth slanting into a smile as she hands it to him. “Happy birthday.”
With a bemused look, Jack unwraps the gift. It’s a tiny statue of a naked man with an engorged penis that rises level with his head.
“Wow.” Jack twists the statue around on his palm, examining it from every angle before his gaze flicks to Elly. “Didn’t realise you saw me this way. Not bad at all. I’m flattered. Truly.”
Elly huffs, and her expression turns serious. “It’s Priapus, the Greek God of fertility, not you. I thought you could put him outside Kate’s spa when it’s up and built. You could have two lifesize versions at the door, like the Beefeaters at the Tower of London, but with enormous dicks and no clothes.”
Laughter splutters from my mouth for the first time this evening. “That sounds terrifying,” I squeak. “It’s definitely not what Dad intended.”
“Yeah, El,” Jack adds, the amusement clear in his voice. “It’s not a brothel.”
“Fine,” Elly snarks. “I’ll leave the creative details to you two.” She smirks. “But when it’s finished, I’m going to be the first one getting naked in the sauna.”
Jack whistles. “I’ll be second.”
She gasps and playfully slaps his arm, and he recoils, pretending to be in pain. Elly bursts out laughing and I can’t resist joining in, a wave of gratitude assailing me that she’s here to lighten the mood. We continue giggling as Jack aborts his play-acting and slips his hands in his pockets, smiling at both of us.
The room is filling up, and when our laughter eases, Elly glances around. “Come on,” she says to me. “There’s a very handsome waiter over there who looks like he needs entertaining.”
A small frown mars Jack’s forehead as he watches my best friend flounce across the room. “I think she likes me,” he announces, nodding to himself.
I snort. “Definitely not.”
“She gave me an erect penis,” he says, as though this confirms it.
“For the spa.”
Jack rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
I smile. Jack’s ego is spectacular; I’d never be able to convince him he wasn’t universally irresistible, even though Elly is walking away from him to chat up someone else.
He blinks as though he needs to clear her from his vision, then rubs a hand over his mouth and shakes his head before looking up at me, his eyes full of apology. “I shouldn’t have sprung the news of the sale on you like that. I’m sorry. Really.”
His words cause pressure in my chest. I don’t want to be angry with him, especially not on his birthday. I give him a smile that’s half-happy, half-sad. “Happy Birthday, big brother. I still love you.”
He blows out a breath and his shoulders sag. He was more tense than I’d realised. Maybe he didn’t expect me to forgive him at all.
“Thanks,” he whispers, holding my gaze for a meaningful second or two before forcing a glass of champagne into my hand. “Try to enjoy yourself, won’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I reply dismissively.
Jack’s friends surround us, eager for his attention, and I push my way through the crowd, leaving him to it.
I down the glass of champagne, followed in quick succession by a second I grab from the bar. I wouldn’t call this enjoying myself, but it’s the next best thing.
I move towards Elly, who must sense me coming because she scurries over and grabs my arm. “Oh, by the way,” she says in a conspiratorial whisper. “The cloakroom attendant is out there reading a magazine with Nico Hawkston’s face on it. How weird is that?”