Chapter Twenty-Eight
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I MISS YOU
EZRA
There’s nothing quite like learning your partner has been blackmailing previous small business owners in order to get in on their properties.
No wonder people fucking hate us.
Reading over the paperwork in front of me and the email correspondence I received over the last few days, I have enough to bring to the board.
And I fully intend to do so in a few minutes.
“Knock, knock.”
I look up at the man in the doorway, smiling at his height and his thick head of silver hair. “Sir.” I close my laptop and stand, buttoning my suit jacket and rounding my desk to meet him where he stands.
When I reach him, I offer my hand, which he takes. His grasp is as firm as it’s ever been and eyes that look just like mine sparkle with the pleasure of being in power.
I love my father, but we make better business partners than we do father and son.
“Meeting should be a good one,” he announces, his voice gruff as he assesses my space, letting go of my hand to lean toward the door.
He lives for shit like this, and I’m sure he’s heard some things through the grapevine. As a member of the board, he doesn’t bother to come into the office unless some shit is going down.
“A necessary one,” I reply, gesturing for him to step out of my office in front of me so we can head out to the meeting.
“Right, then,” he tells me as he walks out.
As we head down the hallway, I wonder what Eloise is doing. If her day is going better than mine is about to. When I press the elevator button, I smile at him as he passes me to go in. A small one that doesn’t do much for my mood.
“Something on your mind, son?” my father asks as he presses the button to the top floor.
I used to think that was something special between me and him. That the term was something he could only use for me.
His only son.
His only child.
Then I started working for him, before I ventured into my own business.
He called every man of a certain age, “son.”
“No, sir,” I answer, unwilling to get personal with him.
If I have it my way, one day he’ll meet Eloise. Until then, there’s no reason to mention her to him.
My chest aches. As I lay on my back, staring up at the bedroom ceiling in my penthouse apartment, I rub my hand over where my heart beats.
My other hand is stretched out beside me in my California King bed. It isn’t lost on me that I’m reaching out. And I know exactly who I’m reaching out for.
Before I can think better of it, I grab my phone to call her. With each ring, each unanswered moment, it bangs at my insides.
I fucking miss her.
She doesn’t answer, and I wonder if she’s upset that I haven’t contacted her.
Does she even give a shit?
I decide to leave her a message, because of the two of us, I do.
“I miss you,” I speak into my phone, my voice deep with unchecked fatigue. “I’m in New York, handling some business. But I’ll be back in a few days.”
I’m about to hang up when I sigh and continue.
“I haven’t reached out because it’s fucking hard, not knowing where we stand, Eloise. And maybe I dropped the ball, and we’re back at square one. But as long as I get to see you when I get back, I don’t care.”
I’m not sure what else to say so I end the call and turn over, hoping to find some relief.