Epilogue
ZARA
FEbrUARY
The café where Piper and I would meet holds too many memories. It’s been two months, and my heart has not healed, not even a little. I still see her at the same table, her long blonde hair sitting perfectly over her shoulder, and hear her sweet laugh that could light up the room.
When Jobe is in London, Ben drives us to work. When he is in Los Angeles or anywhere else in the world, I take the Tube and meet George at a new café around the corner.
Today is one of those days Jobe is in LA. I’m grateful to spend the time with him when he is here, but I know he needs to be in LA for most of the time. And he mentioned something about setting up a business surprise for Byron to give to Giana as a gift .
When he’s not here, life is harder. I struggle not having him home to hold me at night.
Sorry, babe. I’m running awfully late. I’ll miss our coffee date this morning.
I’m already at the café when I receive the message from George. I finish my cup since I arrived earlier than usual. Even Jobe’s penthouse was eerily quiet, so I needed to be around people to stop my mind from analyzing a thousand thoughts threatening to undo me.
Slipping on my coat and scarf, I head out to the street toward our office block. Winter has been tough. The blistery winds make my gray mood even darker. As I ride the elevator to the fifth floor, I change my mind and press the button for the floor where Piper used to work. I take one step out of the elevator and stop. Not a soul is here. I walk around the desks to her desk, still vacant until the company employs someone.
How will I cope with seeing someone sitting at her desk?
My heart hollows out, remembering our conversations while sitting here. The first day when she brought me chocolate muffins, how she would whisper to me and plan our weekends from this table. I run my fingers along the bare wood, flatten my hand on the table, and close my eyes. I imagine Piper is here with me, us working side by side. It was a time when she was happy.
So was I.
My stomach bottoms out at the thought of moving on without her. I have come to accept coming to work reminds me of Piper, the happy times, and I don’t want to let the memory go. I turn to the window where I used to gaze out in a dream and think about my friends back home.
Today, I’m thinking about Piper .
The elevator door opens, and Vanessa walks in.
“Oh.” She stares at me. “You’re at work early.” She eyes the desk where I’m standing. “Is everything okay?”
I nod and head to the elevator. She probably thinks I’m spying. “Yeah.” I force a smile. “I miss her, that’s all.”
“Oh, right.” She turns to Piper’s desk. “Of course.”
Yeah, you never spoke to her, so I don’t think you would understand.
“Have a good day.” I get in the elevator and ride to my floor. I need to do something fun, so I get out my phone and message George.
I want to do something exciting this weekend. Something Piper would also enjoy. Any ideas?
Darling, I am the king of ideas. We’ll make plans over lunch. And let’s dine somewhere exquisite. I’ll take you to the Ritz.
I pop my cell away and smile as I head to my office. Jobe is going to hate that I’ll be dining at the Ritz without him.
We have come so far as a couple. I’m smiling because I still love to tease him.
Though he’ll be glad I am with George. So much has changed over the past two months. George and Jobe are friends and get on like a house on fire. I needed them to be because George reminds me of the good times with Piper and how fun it is to live in London.
I really couldn’t have gotten through the pain without him.
An incoming call vibrates inside my bag.
My heart flips seeing Jobe’s name on the screen. “Hey, I was just thinking of you. ”
“Good. You’ll be more than thinking about me tonight when I make you scream my name as you come. I’ve missed you, Zee. I’ve missed your mouth around my?—”
I cut him off. “I’m at work,” I whisper as my cheeks flame. No one can hear us, only I don’t want to go the entire day thinking about what Jobe will do to me tonight. Who am I kidding? Of course I will. “Tonight?” I track back. “What time is it in LA?”
“Eleven p.m. I’m about to board the jet. I secured the contracts with Byron for this new art studio he is planning for Giana, so there is no reason for me to stay a second longer. I need you.”
My toes curl the way he says, I need you .
“I need you too.” So much it scares me. “Oh. I made plans for the weekend not realizing you would be here. George is taking me to The Ritz,” I say excitedly.
“George will not get a table at the Ritz at such short notice. Looks like you both need my help. Tell him I’ll make a booking… for three.”
I laugh. There is no chance Jobe will let me out of his sight while he is in London. And George will be equally thrilled to be dining with both of us, especially when Jobe orders his favorite expensive whiskey. “See you tonight,” I whisper.
“I love you.”
“And I love you.”
In a matter of minutes, my day is already brighter, and my weekend is going to be even better. I have survived my first English winter, and I can’t wait for summer.
JOB E
OCTOBER
Zara takes a sip of her champagne and places it on the white tablecloth.
A harpist plays on the balcony above us. Succulents and ivy hang from the potted garden strung above us in the lush hotel. It’s romantic, and there is no one else I’d rather be with at a fancy high tea. She takes a bite of her sandwich and looks at her watch.
“Is there somewhere else you need to be?” She beams that beautiful smile at me, and I’m ready to agree with whatever she asks of me.
“Your brother’s game starts in another hour,” she says as though I should know this.
I check my watch. It’s Byron’s first game in almost a year. It happens to be against his former best friend and teammate, Brandon’s team, Chicago. The Chicago team is not the focus as much as Brandon Johns. My sister is running the LA Sharks and more than anything, she wants us to crush Chicago and for Byron to outclass Brandon in skill on every inch of the court. It’s more than a game. More than winning. It’s about pride.
My family expected me to be there, except I had already committed to be in London to finalize the new executive director to replace me. And to be with my girl.
Zara handed in her resignation, and we are returning to Los Angeles in three weeks. We are packing up our London lives and, with it, a shitload of emotion. She is my lotus flower rising from a dark place, beautiful, strong, and resilient.
She has made a life for herself in London and has fallen in love with the city. But she misses her friends and wants to be part of their children’s lives as they grow.
If this is what Zara wants, then I’ll do everything to make it happen. Zara is my future, and I’ll go wherever she goes.
We have invested in a new business as partners. A hotel in Beverly Hills where Zara will manage the staff and HR Department, and I will oversee the executive team. We have plans to style it similar to the hotels we love in London, which has brought us to the famous hotel in Edinburgh, especially since Zara never got to see much of Scotland.
I cock an eyebrow at her. “Our dessert is yet to be served.”
A sexy smile slowly grows on her lips. “Wouldn’t you prefer dessert in our room?”
I lift the napkin from my lap and place it on the table. I lift a finger to the waiter and down the rest of my whiskey. “The bill, please, sir.”
I pay for the bill, take Zara’s hand, and don’t let it go as we take the elevator to the fourth floor, and only let go to fetch the key to open our door. I hold it open for her to enter first, and she walks directly to the window, staring toward the view of Edinburgh Castle, situated high on Castle Hill. It is one of the oldest fortified places in Europe, and Zara loved the tour yesterday and hearing about the rich history from royalty to the military and ‘the prison’. It evoked an emotional sadness in her as we walked through the Scottish National War Memorial.
She hasn’t gotten over losing Piper, and now with her life changing again, her tears well in her eyes, and I don’t know if she’s happy or sad. All I want to do is to create happy memories for her. Especially when she visited Piper’s memorial site last weekend and said she didn’t want to leave London as she was leaving Piper. I have made it my mission to turn every day into a positive memory until we leave.
I start the open fire in our hotel suite then go and stand behind Zara by the window. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her close to me.
“There is so much of this country I haven’t explored yet,” she murmurs.
“No. But we can return any time. Plan short vacations during the year. And not just here. We can travel anywhere and even more of the US and Canada,” I tell her. “Places closer to home.”
Zara turns and loops her arms around my neck. Her brown eyes dance with amusement. “Look at Jobe Hendricks planning vacations for fun and not business.”
I kiss her forehead. “I blame you, Ms. Hart. You have changed me.”
“To want to take vacations like normal people do,” she says in jest.
“To want to take a vacation, period. Before you, there was no time for these things. You have given me perspective, and just so you know, I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“You’re so romantic.” She kisses my lips in a peck. Only I keep her there, hold her face, and kiss her deeply. Her hands go to my chest, unbuttoning my shirt. I let go of her cheeks to shrug my jacket off my shoulders. I toss it toward the chair and focus my attention on removing Zara’s tight silk dress. It slides down her body and pools on the carpet at her feet. She carefully steps out of it in her heels.
“Be careful with that…” I toss it toward my coat, “… it’s delicate material,” she mutters.
I grin at my girl. “I’ll buy you another.” Scooping her up in my arms, I lay her on the bed and kiss her soft skin at the back of her neck. “I love you, Zara,” I whisper. “With all my being. ”
“And I love you,” she says with the gentleness I love in her.
I kiss her all over, make love to her, and adore every inch of her body. There is nothing I love more than the sound of my name coming from her lips as I bring her to orgasm over and over. After lying in each other’s arms while we simply listen to the other breathe, she heads to the shower and emerges in a robe.
“We should watch the game,” she says, bringing me out of a satisfied daze.
We should. It’s the least I can do to support Byron since I’m not present at the game. He understood my absence when I promised him to be there for the majority of home games once we return to Los Angeles.
The commentators are talking, yet we barely hear them over the music as the atmosphere intensifies while the players are about to run out of the tunnel. The camera flips to our team seats, where Charlotte stands beside Coach. She is clapping in time with the music with her back turned to the opposition. The camera flips back to the tunnel where the lights are flashing. The team runs out, and the crowd cheers, the chanting louder when Byron appears. He bounces up and down on the spot, looking good, then grabs the ball, runs toward the basket, and dunks it. The crowd goes bananas, and it’s only the warm-up.
The fans have missed my brother.
“Can I fix you a drink?” I stand and pour myself a whiskey while the team continues to warm up. The camera angle flicks to the Chicago team.
“No, thank you,” Zara says, invested in watching the television. “I feel for Lottie. It must be hard to watch her ex.”
Charlotte is a survivor and as determined as the rest of us. “BJ is not only Lottie’s ex. He was part of our family for more than six years. He spent more time with us than his Australian family.”
The camera focuses in on Brandon’s face. “He doesn’t have the Hendricks’ poker face,” she muses. “He looks worried.”
“It’s because he’s not a Hendricks,” I retort. “He didn’t learn a damn thing by running away. Everything would have worked out fine if he gave it time. Now he has to face the consequences of being a coward.”
“Time,” Zara repeats in a softer voice. “It takes longer for some to heal.”
Before I respond, we are both confused, watching my brother. He has run up the stands to his girlfriend, Giana.
“What is he doing?” Zara asks.
“She normally wishes him good luck, and he kisses her.” But there is something else happening.
“Aw… that’s so romantic,” she says with a sigh.
What is he doing? The crowd is cheering. Byron runs down the stairs and leaps onto the court. His smile is huge and not the determined I-will-win-at-all-cost expression we witnessed only minutes ago.
“What is happening?” the commentators say as they focus on the fans. It’s what everyone watching live wants to know.
“I believe Byron Hendricks just asked his girlfriend to marry him,” another commentator exclaims. “And she said yes!”
“The fuck?” At the game?
“Oh my God!” Zara screams. “That is the most romantic thing I have ever seen.”
Oh no, my brother does not get to steal the limelight of the romantic weekend I had planned for my girl. “The most romantic?” I grab Zara and pull her onto me, and she screams as we roll over the bed. “You think that’s romantic?” She giggles as I tickle her.
I have her on her back, her hands fixed by her head. I stare into those brown eyes as she catches her breath. “It was romantic. You have to admit it,” she puffs out the words.
It was. I have witnessed him giving his heart to Giana from the day he asked me to help him buy the entire first floor of Franklin’s high-rise office block so Giana could have her own art studio. Then he surprised her with a vacation to the Maldives, and they flew with me on the private jet, and I made a stopover for them on my return trip to London. He has always been a romantic, and his gestures never inspired me until now. I see his proposal as a challenge because it’s in my DNA.
If showing the world how much you love someone is the ultimate trademark in romance, then I want to do something just as magical for Zara.
NOVEMBER
When you know, you know.
I open the box to admire the canary yellow diamonds on the necklace and gently close the velvet lid. “Thank you, it’s perfect,” I tell the jeweler, a renowned specialist in New York. It’s the first piece of exquisite jewelry I intend to give to Zara with a new piece every week leading up to Christmas to help her settle back into life in LA.
He places the box with three other boxes in the same bag. Ever since Piper’s death, Zara holds anything yellow in a special place in her heart because it reminds her of their friendship .
“We’ll see you next month, Mr. Hendricks.”
“Yes, you will.” I smile at him, then pass the security guards as I step out onto the street. The street is full of people going about their day. A little way along the street, I stop to check the time and hesitate on whether to go back to the hotel or straight to the airport to catch the jet back to LA. The wind whips around my head, and I tighten the scarf around my neck. I have been here three days, and it’s three days too long away from Zara. Catching my reflection in the glass window, I peer inside the small bar.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” a familiar voice says from behind me. He steps to my side and offers a lopsided smile as though he is nervous about speaking to me.
Holding out a leather-gloved hand, I give him a smile in return. “BJ. What brings you to New York?”
He smirks. “We had a game yesterday, and I needed some time alone before flying back with the team.”
Time alone . He is troubled, and if his performance is anything like the game against the LA Sharks when my brother whooped his sorry ass, then he needs a fucking month of isolation.
He pulls his shoulders up to his ears. Clearly, he hasn’t adapted to the East Coast winter.
I nod toward the bar. “Do you want to get a drink?”
“Sure.” He follows me inside, and I order at the bar before finding a small table in the corner. He runs a hand over his long blond locks to tame them from the wind. “What brings you to New York?”
“I had a meeting with a potential client.” He glances down at the gift bag by my feet. His brow creases then he composes himself. “I have bought a gift for someone special,” I say before he starts to guess who it’s for.
“Anyone I know,” he says with a grin, and when I nod, his eyes round slightly .
“Zara. Penny’s friend.”
He nods. “Nice girl.” The bartender places two whiskeys on ice in front of us. Brandon stares into his glass before he takes a sip. “How is Charlotte?” he asks without looking away from the warmth of his drink.
“Lottie is doing well. As I assume you are.”
He nods slowly. “Things worked out as they should have.”
“Is that what you believe?” I question dryly.
His blue eyes meet mine briefly before he averts his gaze downward. “You know it is,” he says in a low voice as though there was no other solution.
I take a mouthful of the whiskey before I speak. “What I know is you hurt my family, crushed my sister’s heart, and betrayed my brother’s trust,” I say in a low even tone. “Yet they would’ve forgiven you.” Brandon has hands on his whiskey glass, his elbows on the table. His head is bowed, yet his gaze meets mine with a heavy brow. “You were part of the family, and yet you ran like a dog with your tail between your legs. No explanation, and then cut everyone off. After all my family did for you, you shut us out.” My heart is thumping in my chest, but the little prick needs to hear me out.
“It was my fault,” he murmurs and lowers his gaze once more. I give him points for staying and not walking out on me. “Byron hated me because it was my fault, and I couldn’t handle your family being disappointed in me. Lottie…” he shakes his head, “… Byron…” he tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling. “It’s so fucked up.”
“What is?” I snap.
“Life.” He downs his drink and stands.
“Sit down, BJ. Give me one more minute of your time.”
He remains standing for a few more seconds before he lowers his rear to the chair .
“I met someone. Almost lost her. When you realize there is a person for you out there, don’t blow it with pride or by being a coward and running away when an obstacle is thrown across your path. And I know some obstacles are like boulders, and some are fucking megaliths. Either way, your life will never be as good without these people in your world. So you’ll move Heaven and Earth to fix whatever damage you have done. Clear the path. Time heals. When the hurt may not be forgotten, it will be forgiven.”
He shakes his head gently, three times, then he lets out a loud sigh. “I dunno.”
“You don’t know what?”
“I dunno if she’ll ever forgive me?” He stands. “Too much time has passed.”
“Sometimes, the longer the time between meetings, the better.”
“I saw her last month. Briefly, but her eyes told me everything I needed to know.”
“You’re still a coward.”
He stands beside me. “I’m heading back to Australia at Christmas to train in the Olympic team. Then, my contract with Chicago is done. I have no plans other than to return to Australia to play.”
“So you’re putting as much distance between you and Lottie as you can?” I already know this is not about mates but about love.
“It is what it is,” he murmurs. He pats my shoulder three times. “I hope the family has a happy Thanksgiving.” He takes a step toward the door.
“It’s not the same without you.”
He turns and stares at me. “Has she been seeing anyone?” he asks quietly.
I shake my head. “No one notable. ”
He nods once and opens the door. It closes slowly behind him, and all I think is, BJ, you’re a fool.
Several hours later, I’m in the car heading to my home in Pacific Palisades.
“I’ll see you on Monday, Joseph,” I tell my driver. “Zara and I will not need you over the weekend.”
“Very well, sir.” He waits until I have unlocked the gate before he drives away. The house is quiet. No music playing. No romantic movie coming from the theater room. I take the stairs two at a time, open the bedroom door to find Zara curled up on the bed reading a book.
“You’re home.” She jumps into my arms, and I stumble back, juggling her and my case. She kisses me as though I have been gone for months.
“If this is the treatment I receive after a few days, imagine the reception after a month.”
“There will not be a month where we’ll be apart,” she says against my lips. “We’re a team, and where you go, I’ll go.”
I drop my case and twirl with her until we land on the bed together. “I have something for you,” I whisper against her lips.
She pulls back. Her eyes study mine. “You’re my everything, Jobe. I don’t need anything else.”
“And you’re my entire world. This is about wanting to give you gifts, not about needing anything.” I rub the tip of my nose with hers.
“Well, it’s very sweet. Thank you.” She kisses me again.
“You need to promise me something,” I add. She tilts her head at me. “If anything ever goes pear-shaped, we talk about it. We discuss it, and if it can’t be fixed, then we act. But we don’t make hasty decisions without consulting the other.”
“Of course. It goes without saying. We’re not teenagers acting on a whim.” I nod at her, and she strokes my cheek to calm me. “Has something happened I should know about?”
I kiss her on the lips, then again and again. “I imagined a life without you because I was stubborn and allowed pride to interfere. Dignity is not worth a penny if it means letting you go. The pain is unimaginable…”
“Hey.” Her lips stop me from saying more. “I love you, Jobe Hendricks, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I roll until she is lying on me. “Wherever you go, I go.”
She rests her chin on my chest. Her brown eyes full of love. “I promise.”