For The Better
Chapter forty-six
Hayes Rosewood
I slump against the back seat of the town car with a sigh. Aurora’s head falls onto my shoulder.
“You were right,” she mumbles in a tired voice. “It was worse than I thought.”
I let out a low laugh, murmuring, “For once in my life, I don't like being right.”
“Who asks a person how attached they are to their childhood dreams?”
“My father,” I answer grimly.
Yes, he asked Aurora how set on becoming a principal dancer she was.
As if she hadn’t already told him that she’d been in ballet since she was two.
He was essentially asking if she’d give up her dreams for me, which I would never let her do.
I told him as much and he backed off after that, but it was a tense few minutes.
“Well, it’s over now,” she sighs, snuggling into my side, tucking her feet underneath her, the heels she was wearing abandoned on the floorboard.
I wrap an arm around her and try to relax. This dinner is over, but it’s not the last one. Especially if I do decide to take over Rosewood Tech. My dad was clear when he pulled me aside once we finished eating: it’s time to make a choice. Take up the mantle or find my own way.
“Is there anything you want to do before we head back to the hotel?” I ask her to distract myself. “We’ll have some time to explore tomorrow before heading home, but there’s nothing like New York at night.”
Aurora hums. “Can we just go back to the hotel and get in our pajamas? I’ve had enough of people tonight.”
I smile at her sleepy tone.
“Whatever makes you happy, Princess. I’ll drop you off at your room.”
She sits up a little, meeting my eyes in the darkened car.
“I was thinking we could hang out for a little while longer. You can change, then meet back at my room?” There’s a soft vulnerability in her voice, and I know asking this isn’t easy for her.
I press a gentle kiss to her lips.
“I’d love that.”
She settles back against my side, and we ride to the hotel in silence. Once we arrive, I thank Mac and wait for Aurora to slip her heels back on.
“Sure you don’t want me to carry you?” I ask with a smirk.
She rolls her eyes and steps out of the car, looking just as gorgeous as when she slid into it earlier tonight, in spite of the long evening.
“I’m sure. I’d rather deal with aching feet than the stares of everyone we pass.”
Her hand takes mine as though it’s a reflex, and we walk through the revolving doors into the glamorous lobby. It’s dim, the lights lowered for the evening, but still bright enough for us to walk through easily. The desk clerks smile and nod to us as we pass, telling us to have a nice evening.
I drop Aurora off at her room, then go and change into a pair of soft exercise shorts and—to make her laugh—the shirt from her dance recital.
Then I place a call to the front desk to order a large ice cream sundae to Aurora’s room.
The dessert at Farm to Rooftop was difficult to enjoy with the lump in my throat. I imagine Aurora felt the same.
Once that’s done, I head to her room and knock on the door.
She answers it, and the sight of her steals my breath for a second time tonight.
Her long hair has been taken out of the bun she was wearing, and it hangs in loose waves down her back.
She’s wearing pink silk pajamas with ruffled edges, the shorts exposing her long smooth legs.
“I was about to take my makeup off and do my skincare routine, so I’ll just be a minute longer,” she says as she lets me inside.
Though I want to pull her to me and kiss her until we’re both out of breath and words, I hold back.
After all I put her through tonight, she deserves a chance to get comfortable.
So I walk into her suite and sit on the plush couch in the living room area.
Her bed is still made, but her suitcase is open on top of it.
There are pink organization bags hiding all of her belongings, and I wonder if that was her roommate Saylor’s doing.
Aurora has said how much her friend loves organization and that she was the reason Aurora was overpacked for this trip.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Aurora pops her head out of the bathroom. She’s pressing a cotton pad to one side of her face, a pink headband pushing back her hair. I smile at the confused expression on her face.
“I thought we could use some ice cream,” I explain, and her eyes light up.
“That sounds amazing.”
She disappears back into the bathroom, and I take the cart from the bellhop, then tip him a few hundred dollar bills.
Aurora comes out once I’ve rolled the cart into the living room in front of the couch.
She’s fresh faced and beautiful in the gold lamplight.
We both sit on the couch, and I move the silver dome covering the sundae.
A large bowl sits beneath it. There’s a gooey fudge brownie in the bottom, and it’s topped with vanilla bean ice cream, cookie dough pieces, and a swirl of whipped cream.
There’s a single cherry on top, which Aurora immediately takes off and sets aside, her nose wrinkled in an adorable manner.
She grabs a spoon and digs in, humming with delight at the first bite. Her whole body seems to relax, and I feel myself unwind, too.
This. This is what I want at the end of every day, forever.
Maybe it’s too soon to think that, but I can’t help it.
She balances me out in the best way. Everyone always wants something from me, it seems like.
Not Aurora. I get to be myself around her.
It’s like how I feel when I’m at Haymakers, only magnified by a thousand.
To have her, though, my dad—despite his awful delivery—is right.
I have to man up and make a decision. Aurora knows what she wants in life, and she once said she wants someone responsible.
I can’t keep running from my responsibilities and keep her by my side.
My chest rises as I draw in a deep breath.
“I want to take over Rosewood Tech,” I blurt out.
Aurora’s eyes widen. She hovers a hand over her mouth as she asks, “You do?” around a bite of ice cream.
“I do, but I don’t want to live the way my parents do.” My chin drops to my chest. “It just seems inevitable. I’m afraid that one day I’m going to wake up and realize I stepped into my dad’s legacy, instead of crafting my own.”
“So don’t,” Aurora says simply. I look up in time to see her shrug. “Take over the company and run it your way. Live the life you want to live.”
“It’s not that simple,” I say on a sigh. “What if I mess everything up? My dad took my grandad’s small company and transformed it into one of the largest, most successful businesses in the world. I can’t risk ruining it all because I don’t want to play mind games at a charity gala.”
“Is it the company you want to run differently or your life?” Aurora asks, dipping her spoon into the ice cream.
“My life, I guess.” I rake a hand through my hair. “They spend their days in high-rises, at art auctions, and on yachts. Almost every conversation they have has an underlying agenda. I don’t mind that in a board room—it’s necessary sometimes—but living every day like that sounds torturous.”
“I think it’s simpler than you think,” she says gently.
“I know I didn’t grow up in this world, but maybe that gives me an advantage here.
It seems to me that things have been done a certain way for a long time, but that doesn’t mean that’s the only way.
Your dad had to change things that your grandfather did, I’m sure.
Why limit yourself by thinking you can’t do the same? ”
I stay quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in. She’s not wrong. My dad talks about all the changes he made that grew the company all the time. And my grandad jokes about how things were different back in his day, but maybe change isn’t so bad if it led to what we have now.
“You’re a leader, Hayes.” Aurora breaks the silence. “The plaque at Haymakers says so, and I believe it. You lead at the gym by example, and you can do it here, too. Change things for the better.”
I meet her gaze and note the sincerity shining in her eyes. The words that came to me in the car won’t stay in any longer.
“I love you.”