Chapter 22
Cal
Landing in New York and seeing the city lights and bridges stretch beneath us as we were making our descent hit me harder than I thought it would.
I’ve always loved New York City, and its loud, restless energy.
It’s different than life in Coconut Beach.
It’s hard to explain that to Silvie because with her and me, things still aren’t defined.
The limo that picked us up at the airport glides away from the airport, and outside the window, everything stacks upward, lighting up every square inch it feels like.
We drive past steel-and-glass buildings, their office windows lit, casting shadows and silhouettes of people still at work.
Because we’re in the city that never sleeps.
Traffic crawls and horns blare, with people cutting in and out, not even glancing at others as they do.
Everyone here seems to have a sense of urgency.
I think about how time slows back in Coconut Beach.
People stop to chat, lunches are slow and often include other locals catching up, and people stroll the beach with nowhere to be. Here, it’s different.
The energy is charged.
Chaotic.
Anxious.
Silvie sits beside me, legs crossed, phone resting in her lap.
She looks different... as if she’s more dialed in.
Her hair and make-up are stylish and fitting for the city.
She looks polished yet effortless. She’s wearing a tailored blazer, with slacks and heels.
Her New York attire is completely different from her makeup and sundresses back in Coconut Beach.
I prefer that version, but this one is stunning and sexy as hell.
She looks very much like the CEO badass she just became.
Honestly, I love seeing her in her element, relaxed and confident.
Pride fills me just watching her. She looks happy.
Her hand slides into mine, and I squeeze it.
I don’t miss her dad’s eyes on our hands and our faces as we smile at each other.
It’s not a facade. Not this part. I’m proud of Silvie and am her biggest supporter.
But I still can’t help the warning bells that are threatening to go off in the back of my head. Because what if she never comes back to Coconut Beach? What if she needs me to move here and... I can’t. I couldn’t imagine leaving my mom and Jonah.
Wilby’s across from us, scrolling through emails on his phone, and says, “Feels good to be home. But I already miss Coconut Beach.”
Silvie sighs. “Me, too.”
Wilby looks up. “When do you want to return to Coconut Beach? I need to set that up.”
“We’ll be heading back tomorrow after the meeting,” she tells him.
Silvie’s dad’s eyebrows raise. “So soon?”
“I have everything I need to work in Coconut Beach,” she says. “I already told you I was taking time off. That hasn’t changed.”
He says nothing, just nods and gazes out the window. Charles is an interesting man. Still not sure how I feel about him, but as long as he treats Silvie right, I have no problem with him.
Silvie turns to me and studies my face. “You’re quiet.”
“Just taking it in,” I say.
The limo slows and slides up to the curb as a building comes into view. Our driver hops out, opens the door.
Wilby says, “This is me. I will see you all tomorrow. Good night.”
Silvie smiles. “Good night, Wilby. Thanks for all your hard work.”
He nods at all of us, and the door closes. Wilby disappears into his building, and we pull away again. It’s just her father and us now.
Silvie rests her head on my shoulder, her voice soft but electric. “Tomorrow’s going to be...big. I’ve worked hard for this for years. I can’t believe it’s finally here. Thanks to you.”
I tighten my grip on her hand, grounding us both. “You did it. You built this with every late night, sacrifice, and hard choice that led you here. I’m proud of you and happy to help you.” I lift her knuckles and kiss them. “You’ve got this. And you should be proud of yourself.”
Her dad says nothing. He’s reading something on his phone, but I can feel him listening.
He looks up and tells the driver to drop us off, and then he’s going back to the office for a while.
Silvie says nothing, just looks out the window.
I wonder how her and her dad are doing now that they talked on the plane.
Wilby was a genius bringing pizza and cards.
For a while, they seemed almost normal. Just a father and daughter playing cards and eating pizza.
We all had a lot of laughs, even Charles.
It gave me hope that they can work things out.
I don’t know them or how their relationship works, but I hope they can get to a good place.
She lays her head on my shoulder as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. I wonder if she’s made for this place and not Coconut Beach. And I can’t help but wonder what that means for us.
The elevator doors open, and her penthouse almost makes my brain short circuit. She has the entire top floor of the building, and if I had to guess, it’s probably well over five thousand square feet. This is far from my small and cozy cottage back in Coconut Beach.
Her penthouse has floor-to-ceiling windows, and city lights that pan out all around us as if they’re part of the decor.
I wonder what the views look like during the day.
Despite the penthouse’s grandeur, it still very much feels like Silvie.
Warm and intentional. Warm lamps cast a glow throughout the penthouse, and throw pillows fill the couch with cozy throws.
Everything smells fresh and clean. This is Silvie.
She may have money, but this is her space, and I like it.
It feels like her and what she would pick out.
Whites and beiges and soft blush tones. Plush couches that somehow look elegant and nap-approved at the same time.
It shouldn’t feel cozy, but it does. Like someone thought about comfort instead of just appearance.
“Wow,” I say before I can stop myself. “This is gorgeous. Great place.”
She kicks off her heels, getting comfortable. “Thanks. I’ve actually been thinking about selling it.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised, and glance around. “Well, with the view, it’s probably going to sell quickly. It’s nice.”
She glances out at the view. “No, I mean the building.”
I freeze. “Wait. You own the whole building?”
She shrugs. “Yeah. I used my inheritance for investment properties.”
She says this so casually, as if she doesn’t own hundreds of millions in investment property.
My laugh comes out, full of disbelief, and I shake my head. “We come from two different worlds, Silvie.”
She grins and flops on the couch. “Nah. We’re in the same world. This one is just...weird. I prefer your Coconut Beach world.”
I relax hearing her reassurance.
She flips her hair, watching me. “Besides, it’s probably yours now, too. I think it’s community property.”
“No, thanks. I’m all set,” I say with a grin. “I also don’t think that’s how that works.”
She shrugs. “It might.”
Plus, I signed everything Wilby gave me to sign from the lawyers. I’m not interested in any of her assets. I’m not this level of rich, but I do okay. I’m actually really good with finances, too. I just don’t own buildings.
I hope she doesn’t really think I need that from her or would want any of her assets. “I don’t need a building. Like I said. All set. Thanks.”
I laugh again at the ridiculousness of it and suddenly realize that the two worlds are definitely different kinds of normal.
Fake marriage, I remind myself. This isn’t real. I don’t have to make sense of it. She just needs my help.
“It’s only seven thirty,” she says. “Let’s put on comfy clothes and order pizza from my favorite pizza place.”
I relax a little bit at that. “I like that plan.”
I carry our bags into her massive bedroom that overlooks another view of the city. “Wow,” I whisper, standing and taking it all in.
We change and meet back in the living room. Silvie has an additional bathroom and closet that’s bigger than my whole cottage.
“I really like it,” I tell her. “It suits you.”
“Thanks,” she says easily. “Wilby had the entire place deep cleaned, and I have a brand-new bed.”
I shake my head at the reminder. “Gotta erase the evidence of the turd.”
She grimaces. “And Belladonna, my sister.” She eyes the couch. “I should probably burn this, too.”
I laugh. “I think the couch is fine.”
We settle in on her sofa, and she picks How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. The opening credits roll just as the door buzzes. A doorman, whom she apparently knows well and enjoys chatting with, brings in the pizza and sets the boxes on her gleaming white kitchen countertops.
She thanks him and catches up with him like they’re old friends. Before he leaves, she gives him a hug. I smile because that doesn’t surprise me at all that she’s friends with her doorman.
She grabs paper towels and two plates. “Moment of truth.”
We open the boxes, and I inhale the aroma. The perfect pizza to fold and eat.
“I had to try Joe’s first,” she says. “I haven’t had this in over a year since my mother had me on a ridiculous wedding diet.”
I am not looking forward to her mother. I have a feeling we’re not going to like each other. She treats Silvie like trash.
“Yep. This is as good as I remember.” She chews and moans, and holy shit, that sound goes straight to my dick. I try to focus on the pizza. Don’t think of her like that, I tell myself. She’s your fake wife.
We swap and take a bite of each other’s and nod like we’re serious judges on a very important panel.
And then we stop and look at each other. “Mine’s better,” we both say at the same time.
Then we burst out laughing.
She grabs another slice, and I snag a couple of sodas from her fridge for us. We already operate and move like we’ve been doing this for years. With Silvie, things are just easy. We make our way back to the sofa, plates in hand, the city glowing around us.
I take another bite of pizza and watch her as she settles in next to me and crosses her legs. She picks up her plate from the coffee table and settles in.
“So, what happens tomorrow?” I ask.
She doesn’t even look up, just chews and swallows, and says, “Tomorrow we measure our dicks and make sure they’re the same size. If anyone has any problems, we clean house.”
I cough and cover my mouth, then reach for my soda. “Jesus, Silvie.”
She laughs, and her eyes are bright and unapologetic. “I’m serious. You’re about to meet corporate Silverlyn. She’s a barracuda.”
“I can tell,” I say, still laughing. And I can’t wait.
She wipes her hands on a napkin and leans back. She’s so casual, and at home here, it’s cool to watch. “Some people don’t want to see me succeed as CEO. They don’t want to see a woman in charge. Especially one who isn’t asking for permission. This is my company, and I worked hard for it.”
She continues, and I chew as I listen to her.
“And I wouldn’t have this without you, Cal. I’m so thankful for you. For being here with me by my side. You’re a big part of this.”
My smile fades a little, and she keeps going.
“They’re either going to get on board,” she says calmly, “or get off. I’ll be doing what I have to do.”
There’s certainty and confidence in her voice. “We’re not changing the company,” she adds. “My dad was running it well. He and I will be a great team until he decides to retire. But the old men cronies who can’t stand to see a woman in charge will be an issue.”
I nod, impressed and a little in awe. “That sounds...messy.”
She grins. “It might be painful to watch.”
I take her in, sitting there with pizza and comfy clothes, the whole city at her back, and think about the boardroom and power plays. I love it that they are underestimating her. She’s going to be so damn sexy to watch.
“It’ll be interesting. Damn, I can’t wait.” I say, and I mean it.
I know one thing is for sure. I’d pay good money to watch her clean house of all the idiots who chose not to support her.
For a moment, this feels like a completely normal life. Like, maybe we could make this work between us.