Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Ben
As I walk to Hotel on Ninth Street, I mutter to myself, a group setting is better, for the millionth time today. It’s cold and my driver is going to meet me at the hotel, so he’s probably taking this exact same route, but I wanted to walk. I needed time to clear my head.
Even if it is dinner with the fam, a group setting has to be a good idea tonight.
I’d planned a low-key dinner at a popular Tribeca steak house tonight, it wasn’t a big deal to cancel.
When Poppy mentioned the family dinner, it seemed a good solution to avoid Avril and I sitting opposite each other across a table, not knowing what to say.
Because what is there to say?
We had a time-out and now things are back to normal.
Everything is fine.
Except it feels like things changed between us last night.
Maybe it’s just me.
Then why did she run off? There could have been a simple explanation—maybe she forgot something back at her place. Or maybe Poppy called her and needed her to come over for some reason.
Or maybe she regretted the time-out. Regretted our night together.
Maybe it was the wrong thing to do. She just looked so beautiful, and I’ve enjoyed spending time with her so much that I was impatient to have more of her.
I’m an idiot. I’m an overthinking idiot. And this is why I keep my relationships with women separate from my business deals. There’s no doubt about it, Avril and I are in messy territory, which is exactly what I was trying to avoid.
But what I’m excellent at doing is faking casualness. I’m not saying that’s a good thing, I’m just saying I’m excellent at it. So that’s what I’m determined to be tonight—casual.
I take a breath in as I get to the entrance to the hotel.
I take in the lobby—which is beautiful—the Art Deco of midtown mixed with the cool downtown vibes. I start to head toward one of the receptionists when someone calls my name across the lobby. I look up and see Poppy. I smile and head in her direction.
“I just have to speak to someone before I go,” she says, as I kiss her on the cheek. “But go into the office over there.” She gestures to a door on the far side of the lobby. “Avril’s in there.”
I give Poppy a two-fingered salute and head to the office, my heart thundering in my chest like I’m halfway through the New York City Marathon.
Why am I nervous? I’ve met presidents, dined with A-list actresses, holidayed with billionaires, but Avril Huntington makes me nervous? It doesn’t make sense.
I knock on the door and open it, not wanting to appear too formal. I’m overanalyzing and overthinking everything.
“Hi,” Avril says, before I’ve even located her in the room.
My eyes finally settle on her over to the right. The light is coming through the window, highlighting her face. She looks ethereal, like a goddess or something, and my breath catches in my throat.
“I have an eyelash,” she says in explanation of why she’s standing with a mirror in one hand and poking her eye with the other.
“You want me to help?” I ask, stalking toward her.
As I reach her, she puts the mirror down and smiles. “All done.”
We’re close. Our bodies are as close as they can be without touching. Every breath seems to bring us closer.
She blinks over and over and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s trying to think of something to say or whether it’s because of her eyelash.
“You okay?” I ask, looking more intently at her.
“It was an eyelash,” she says, her gaze finding mine, and she gives me a small smile. “Of course I’m okay.”
But that’s not what I meant, or at least it’s not all of what I meant. I want to know how she’s feeling about last night. Because it felt different. Different to the first time, which was pretty bloody amazing, but also different to anything I’d ever experienced before.
I want to know whether she felt the same way.
Before I can gain any kind of clarity, the door opens and Poppy appears. Avril and I both take a step back from each other like we’ve been caught making out in the school playground.
Poppy’s gaze flits between us, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I had an eyelash,” Avril says, overexplaining our situation.
“I didn’t say anything,” Poppy replies.
Avril just rolls her eyes. I’m not sure if Poppy knows what went down last night or whether she’s just generally trolling her sister. It could go either way.
“Shall we go?” Poppy says. “If you lovebirds are finished with the eyelash thing.”
Avril groans and it sends sparks to my bollocks. “Stop it, Poppy.”
Poppy takes her coat from the coat stand and slides it on one arm and then the other.
I watch as Avril scans the room. Maybe it’s me, but something feels different about her today. “I need to get…” Avril grabs her bag, and a ChapStick from her desk, before grabbing her coat as we all head out.
“Is Aurora coming?” Avril asks Poppy, as the two of them head out before me.
“She’s feeling shitty. So she decided not to.”
“Poor thing,” Avril says.
“No, I think she’s actually enjoying feeling shitty. At least that’s what she says. She waited so long to be pregnant that she even likes the bad bits.”
I don’t say anything, but Deacon’s told me that Aurora’s said the exact same thing to him. It’s one of the many things that I like about Aurora. She manages to put a positive spin on most things.
“This is us,” I say, indicating the car at the curb.
“We’re driving?” Poppy says. “We usually walk.”
“It’s freezing,” Avril says.
“Up to you. Happy to do either,” I say. I glance at Avril’s and Poppy’s footwear. Both of them are wearing heels, but both of them are New Yorkers.
Avril moves toward the car. “I’m going in the car.”
I open the car door and Avril slides in. My driver is out of his seat before I can chase after Poppy and open her door. I take the front passenger seat.
It’s more comfortable in the front. Nothing to do with the fact that I don’t trust myself from not absentmindedly touching Avril when I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t because she’s not mine to touch.
We reach Worth Huntington’s brownstone in less than twenty minutes. We could have walked it faster. The traffic was brutal. But no one’s feet hurt and no one is cold.
I spent the journey engrossed in my phone, listening to Avril and Poppy chatter away about work and their brother and about thirty other things that I know nothing about.
They have an easy dynamic about them, which is soothing and warm.
Considering what happened to them when they were young, Worth did a really good job of keeping them together as a family.
I’m looking forward to getting to know him a little more.
Then I wonder what the hell I’m even thinking about getting to know Worth. I mean, I probably won’t ever meet him again after tonight. I might not ever see Avril again after Sunday when she goes home.
The thought lands like a lead weight in my stomach. She’s so quickly and so easily become a fixture in my life. Someone who dominates my thoughts, someone I look forward to talking to and sharing things with. How did that happen?
We pull up by the brownstone and all get out. I let the sisters go ahead of me and nerves start to twist and pull in my stomach. Why am I nervous? It’s not like I’m being introduced to my girlfriend’s parents or anything.
Except that it feels like I am somehow.
A woman I don’t recognize opens the door and she, Poppy, Avril and and her all hug.
“This is Ben,” Avril says, without further explanation.
“Hi, Ben, I’m Sophia, Worth’s wife.”
“Delighted to meet you,” I say, and give her a kiss on the cheek.
We go inside, but before we get our coats off, the doorbell rings again and Sophia goes to answer the door. Avril and Poppy kick their shoes off like it’s their home, and I make a mental note to ask whether or not they lived in this house. I glance around. Maybe they grew up here?
I follow them through to the back of the house into the open-plan kitchen and dining room, where it’s like a party is going on. There seem to be people everywhere. Some sitting at the breakfast bar, some at the dining table, some standing in the kitchen.
“Come on,” Avril says, cocking her head toward the crowd. “I’ll introduce you.”
I know how to make my way around a bunch of strangers, find out who they are, what they do, how they make money.
But this is different. This isn’t business.
I haven’t been in many social situations where I’ve not been focused on how I can build my business by building the businesses of the people in the room.
That’s what’s made me successful. I’ve always treated every room I’ve walked into as an opportunity.
An opportunity to create an empire, brick by brick.
Every time I go to a charity event or a cocktail reception, I get a step further away from those three weeks of living in our car.
The three weeks where I didn’t have a home and I had no power to change anything.
Every new contact I made, every hand I shook and number I exchanged built a wall between me and my past.
Tonight is different. There’s no wall to build. But I’m not sure what I’m here to do. Why did I agree to come? Why on earth didn’t I just let Avril see her family without me? If I’m honest with myself, it was because I was curious. Curious about her family dynamic. Curious about her.
“I’m Efa,” a woman says with a smile. “You must be Ben. Like my husband.” She nods towards the refrigerator.
Do I spy Ben Fort over there by the refrigerator? It can’t be. I don’t think I’ve ever been introduced to him before.
I shrug. “What can I say? All the best men are called Ben.”
She rolls her eyes, and Avril shoots me a look like I’m the lamest person she ever met. She might be right.
“I haven’t seen you for the longest time,” Avril says, pulling her in for a hug.
“We spent a month at the Club. Bennett actually took some time off. If by ‘time off’ I mean a couple of afternoons skiing.”
“Poppy was saying we should go again,” Avril says. “We always have so much fun there.”
“Impossible not to,” Efa says.