21. The Cost of Caring
21
THE COST OF CARING
CONNOR
Days pass, and Friday morning dawns gray and restless over Seattle, matching my mood as I stare at the protein powder research spreadsheet I definitely shouldn't have spent all night creating.
"Sir?" Yasmin appears in my office doorway. "The venture capital meeting starts in ten minutes."
"Cancel it."
"The one with the blockchain startup?"
"Especially that one."
She studies me over her tablet. "Does this have anything to do with why you're researching FDA regulations for nutritional supplements at 7 AM?"
I minimize the spreadsheet. "No."
"Or why Ms. Bristol's father just called about patent law?"
"Absolutely not."
"Or why there are still crystals all over your private floor?"
"Those are tactical investments in spiritual security."
"Of course." She taps something on her screen. "Just like the helicopter you had on standby last night was for 'emergency meetings.'"
I don't react. Much. "The board requires immediate access to crisis management."
"Right." She clears her throat, one side of her mouth curving upwards. "Nothing to do with a certain PR executive leaving early yesterday?"
"Don't you have meetings to cancel?"
“A few.” She checks her tablet again. “It’s just that…the protein powder empire research is a new level of crisis management, even for you."
Because of course I spent all night researching FDA regulations and patent law. Of course I created contingency plans for every possible way Gideon Bristol's "Bodacious Blend" could go wrong.
Of course I'm still trying to fix everything for a woman who keeps running away.
"The research is purely professional," I lie. "Simple risk assessment."
"Simple risk assessment doesn't usually involve spreadsheets about essential oil regulations."
"You've been talking to Christoph."
"Christoph thinks it's cute." She hands me a fresh coffee. "Your father thinks it's concerning. And your mother wants to know if Ms. Bristol would be interested in a joint aura cleansing retreat."
Good god.
My phone buzzes.
GRAYSON: Dude
GRAYSON: We need to talk about the bachelor party
GRAYSON: Also, we’ve been replaying that Elvis chapel video on repeat. Can we play this at my wedding too?
I nearly drop my coffee.
Yasmin stares down at my screen. "About that video... "
"Don't."
"I'm just saying, your harmonizing on the file management verse was actually pretty good..."
"Out."
"The choreography could use work though..."
"Goodbye, Yasmin." I glance up again. “And not a word of this, you hear?”
She leaves, but not before I catch her grinning.
I turn back to my spreadsheet, trying to focus on product liability law instead of how empty my private floor feels without Ariana in it. Without her laugh echoing off the windows, her vanilla scent lingering in my sheets, her...
My phone buzzes again:
ALEX: So
ALEX: About the wedding next weekend
ALEX: You're still my best man, right?
ALEX: Even though you married my cousin's ex?
Right. The wedding. Where I'll have to watch another perfect couple pledge their lives to each other while I have no idea what the hell I’m doing with the woman in my life.
The woman who's hiding something.
Because she is hiding something. I'm not stupid. I see the way she tenses when Vegas comes up. The way she deflects questions about the chapel. The way she looked at her phone yesterday like it was about to explode.
And with more of family and friends sniffing around what happened in Vegas, it’s only a matter of time before the news gets out.
Before word about what actually happened in that little Graceland chapel reaches my father’s ears.
That’s the one thing that can’t happen.
My office door opens again.
"I said no meetings—" I look up to find a familiar toupee in my doorway. "Dad. "
"Son." He eyes my desk. "Are those protein powder regulations?"
"Market research."
"For what market?" He moves closer. "Because last I checked, Clearwater Tech doesn't manufacture nutritional supplements."
"It's a potential investment opportunity."
"In your PR executive's father's pyramid scheme?"
I straighten. "Did you need something?"
"The investors are asking questions." He adjusts his cuffs. "About you. About your sudden disappearances, your lack of engagement. About why my son, two weeks from the biggest IPO of his career, is spending more time dodging meetings than securing investors."
"The IPO is under control."
"Is it? Because from where I'm standing, you’re one distraction away from making a very expensive mistake."
I force my expression into something neutral. "Since when do you care about my distractions?"
"Since the office was full of doves for an entire day. Since board members are whispering about erratic behavior. Since my son, who built an empire on discipline, is suddenly—" He gestures at my screen. "—spending his time on protein powder patents."
"Diversifying revenue streams is a valid strategy."
"So is staying focused." He picks up a paper. "This isn't like you, Connor. The disappearances, the secrecy. You’re putting th company in a difficult position. A company you seem determined to risk for some…”
I glance up. “Some what?”
“Some temporary pussy.”
The words put me on my feet. I slam down my pen on the desk, the thud echoing.
"Careful,” I warn .
"No, you be careful." He sets the paper down hard. "I've seen this before. With James. With that girl who made him forget everything he'd worked for..."
"Don't."
"He lost focus. Lost control. And then?—"
"Get out."
"Connor—"
"I said get out."
He studies me for a long moment. "You're making a mistake."
"Wouldn't be the first time." I turn back to my spreadsheet. "Close the door on your way out."
He does, leaving me alone with my thoughts and approximately forty tabs of supplement regulation research.
My phone buzzes:
LILY brISTOL: Hey! Thanks for letting Ariana slip me your number
LILY brISTOL: So… hypothetically
LILY brISTOL: If someone's dad ordered 10,000 protein powder samples
LILY brISTOL: And maybe signed a contract with a "supplement influencer"
LILY brISTOL: How mad would you be about helping with legal fees?
I shouldn't respond. Shouldn't get more involved. Shouldn't care this much about a family that isn't mine.
But I'm already pulling up contract law resources.
ME: Send me the paperwork
ME: And maybe don't let your dad sign anything else without legal review
LILY brISTOL: You're the best!
LILY brISTOL: No wonder Ari's always smiling at her phon e
LILY brISTOL: Though fair warning - Dad's already designing merchandise
LILY brISTOL: Hope you like protein powder puns on t-shirts...
Something in my chest does a slow roll.
Because this is dangerous. Caring this much. Wanting this much.
My phone lights up with another message:
ARIANA: Hey
ARIANA: So about yesterday...
ARIANA: Can we talk?
ARIANA: Somewhere private?
My pulse kicks hard.
ME: My office?
ME: The real one, not the public one
ARIANA: Actually
ARIANA: Could we meet at Madame Rousseau's?
ARIANA: She gave me a key for extra practice before the wedding
The words hit like a physical thing. In the weeks since our first lesson, I've watched her transform from "caffeinated penguin" (Madame's words) to someone who moves with surprising grace. Someone who's learned to trust her partner. To let go.
Just like I've learned to let go with her.
ME: The studio will be closed
ME: Madame has a performance tonight
ARIANA: I know
ARIANA: That's why I thought...
ARIANA: I need to tell you something
My stomach drops.
Because this is it. Whatever she's been hiding, whatever's been making her run.. .
My father's words echo in my head: You're making a mistake.
Maybe I am.
Maybe caring this much, wanting this much, risking this much—maybe it's all a terrible mistake.
But as I stare at the protein powder research I definitely shouldn't have done, at the contingency plans I shouldn't have made, at all the evidence of how much I already care...
I realize it's too late.
I'm already in too deep.
My phone buzzes one final time:
YASMIN: Your mother's here
YASMIN: With more crystals
YASMIN: And something called a "love attraction grid"
I look at my office, at the life I've built, at all the careful control I'm about to risk.
Then I look at my messages from Ariana, and I make a choice. I start texting Yasmin.
ME: On my way to an off-site meeting
ME: Hold all calls
ME: And maybe hide the crystals