Chapter 32

Blake

“Where the hell have you been?” Warren cornered Blake as soon as he stepped inside the ballroom, as if he’d been lying in wait for the last hour. Servers carried trays of covered dishes and cleared away salad plates. Most of the guests had settled at their assigned tables. But Warren puffed out his cheeks, bright red. He ripped his still-unlit cigar from his teeth and tossed it into a trash can as he motioned Blake back into the hall.

If this were a cartoon, Blake thought, steam would be blowing from his father’s ears. And there’d probably be a thought bubble with a lot of exclamation points and four-letter words. I’m thirty-two years old, he wanted to say. It’s none of your business where I’ve been. Instead he smiled at a couple of guests, straightened his tie, and waited for the onslaught of his father’s ire.

“I’ve been making excuses for you for close to an hour,” Warren said in a low voice. “Did you forget you’re supposed to be socializing? Talking to investors?”

“Sorry.” But he wasn’t, not really. He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Two partners from Golden Bay Bank walked by. “Gentlemen,” Warren said, modulating his voice back into evening guest-mode. His businessman’s mask slipped into place.

“Evenin’, Warren. Blake,” one of them said. “Nice to see you both here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Warren said.

“You don’t need to make excuses for me,” Blake said after the men disappeared into the ballroom. “I’m fully capable of making my own.”

“You know what I mean. This is one of the biggest public events of the spring. Eastefire executives are expected to be visible.” Warren cut another glance around them. “Deals are started here. Connections are made.”

Les materialized from the shadows. “Ah, Blake, there you are. Just in time for dinner. Your father thought maybe you’d called it an early night.”

“I wish.”

Les smiled. Blake often thought the older lawyer was the only rational employee left at Eastefire. “Yes, well, it’s a necessary evil, isn’t it? My wife loves to dance, which is the only reason I still come to these things.” He scanned the hallway. “Haven’t seen my nephew in a while, come to think of it. You didn’t stumble over Nikolas at some point, did you?”

“Haven’t seen him.”

Les waved a hand. “Ah, no worries. He’ll find his way back.”

Nice of you to trust him, Blake thought, unlike his own father, who’d probably like to fit Blake with a tracking device. He wondered if Emmy had found Bryan. He shouldn’t have let her go alone. Any asshole who’d steal from her bank account wasn’t going to roll over and hand her the money without putting up a fight.

“Could you give us a minute, Warren?” Les asked.

Blake’s father frowned, but he nodded and walked down the hall, stopping at the reception table.

“Never knew anyone wound as tight as your father,” Les said. “I feel for you.”

Blake rubbed the back of his neck.

“He’s a hell of a businessman, though. Everything he does is for Eastefire.”

“I know.”

Les looked around and lowered his voice. “I wanted to ask you a favor, son. As CEO and the more rational Carter at the helm.”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“You probably know Nikolas’s brother is back in town. I thought you might consider giving him a job. He didn’t finish college, but he’s got a hell of a creative side. Thought we could give him a shot, maybe in marketing. Team him up with Chanelle and some of the interns down there.”

“I don’t see why not. We can give him a probationary position, see how he works out.” He’d be glad to do something for Les, a small reciprocation for the years he’d run interference between Blake and his father. Blake turned to see a tall, thin guy with a scraggly beard and round sunglasses approach them.

“Blake, this is Bryan,” Les said. “My nephew. I don’t think you’ve ever met him.”

The world spun. Sounds warped. Bryan is Les’s nephew? Bryan the cheating, stealing ex? “I, ah...” Blake didn’t know how to finish. Bryan clasped his hand and shook.

“He’s in the band that’s playing tonight,” Les went on, and Blake could see the pride on the old man’s face. “Nikolas set it up. They’ve got a good following, I’m told. Making a name for themselves in the Boston area.” He wagged his finger at his nephew. “But while music is a worthy passion, it doesn’t pay the bills.”

Not like robbing your ex-girlfriend does. The words flashed through Blake’s mind. He dropped Bryan’s hand and resisted the urge to wipe his palm on his pants. Now he knew why Les praised Nikolas up and down. At least he’d made it through college and law school and probably hadn’t stolen to support his drug habit, though the jury was still out on that one. Had Emmy found Bryan? Confronted him? The guy looked high as a kite. Blake couldn’t believe Emmy would ever have given him the time of day, let alone live with him for almost a year.

Blake’s father strode over before he could say anything else. “Hello,” Warren said with a long look at Bryan. “Don’t think we’ve met.”

“Warren, this is my nephew,” Les said. “Nikolas’s older brother, Bryan.”

“Ah.” Warren had gotten his hands on another cigar, which was lit now despite the No Smoking sign hanging on the wall. “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Thanks. You too.”

“I was just discussing with Blake that maybe we’d give Bryan a try in marketing,” Les said. “He’s very clever, good with social media and web design.”

“Yeah?” Warren looked skeptical.

“Sure, why not?” Blake said, just to piss his father off.

“I don’t know.” Warren said. “Maybe because I’m not quite convinced as to your decision making skills tonight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His father waved his cigar in the air. “You brought Emerson Doyle as your date.”

Blake seethed. Goddamn it. He’d had this conversation fourteen different ways in the last decade, but it didn’t matter. His father still didn’t trust him. Still treated him like a child, like an intern working his way up the ranks of Eastefire instead of the one who sat in the biggest office on the top floor. The back of his neck turned hot. His blood pressure spiked.

“You told me to work on the deal. To make connections. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Why the hell else would I have brought her?” He spit out the words without thinking for a second. They weren’t true. They meant nothing except as a barrier against his father’s unyielding judgement.

The expression on Warren’s face changed, and for once, Blake thought he’d gotten through to his old man. But then Les’s changed too, and his gaze flicked over Blake’s shoulder.

No. Shit. Tell me she isn’t standing there.

In slow motion, Blake turned to see Emmy behind him, a look of betrayal on her face. She was holding a drink, something pink in a frosted glass. She looked from Blake to Bryan and back again. Her face had gone completely white. Blake felt the blood drain from his face. She couldn’t have heard him. He would’ve known if she’d been standing there the whole time. He would’ve felt her, sensed her.

“Emmy, wait. This isn’t what –”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she threw the drink in his face. “You son of a bitch. I knew –” Her voice wobbled but only for a second. Then she took a step closer. “Listen to me carefully. You will never get my home. You will never get one single thing from me. I don’t care what company you run, what your last name is, or how much gold you shit when you go to the bathroom. Never. I’ll burn my building to the ground before I ever let you get your hands on it.”

Blake flinched. Emmy had never spoken to him that way.

“Take a good look,” she went on and put her hands on her hips. “This is me walking away from you for the last time. And in case you’re confused, I do not want you to follow me. Not ever.” With that, she walked past him down the hall and was gone.

Emmy

Emmy stood in the foyer shaking with anger. She clenched her elbows in her palms and tried to process what had just happened. Bryan’s denial. Nikolas’s threat. The stabbing feeling in her chest when she saw Bryan standing next to Blake. They weren’t just passing strangers in the hall. She could tell that by their body language. They’d definitely been having a friendly conversation.

You told me to work on the deal. Make connections.

At first she thought maybe she’d heard Blake wrong. After what they’d done upstairs, the feel of his stubble on her cheek, his hands in her hair, her surrender, his confession, he couldn’t really have just said it was all in the name of business. Could he?

The answer flashed inside her head like a marquee of neon lights. Of course he could. Thirty-two years old, and Blake still wanted to please his father above all else. She should’ve known better. She should’ve listened to her gut.

She walked up to the wide front doors of the hotel. Outside the rain continued to fall, collecting in deep puddles as if the drains couldn’t keep up. Lightning scorched the sky and thunder bounced off the buildings. A police car streaked by, followed by an ambulance. She glanced over her shoulder and pulled out her phone.

He wouldn’t come after her. He wouldn’t dare, not after that. If he did say one more word to her right now, she’d do more than throw a drink at him. She’d claw his cheeks open. Maybe give him a swift kick to the groin. She savored a bit of grim satisfaction at the thought of her martini staining his collar and tie. It wouldn’t matter, because he probably had twenty more in his closet at home. But at least he’d be uncomfortable for the rest of the night. She walked down the hall and punched the first number on her recent calls list.

Raelynn answered on the second ring. “You better be calling me with some good news, girlfriend.”

“Try the exact opposite.” She found a hidden cubicle in the far corner of the hallway and pressed her back into the wall. Long drapes hung from the ceiling and hid her from view. I will not cry. I will not cry. But she couldn’t make any other words come out, either.

“Em? Are you still there? What happened? Did you find Bryan?”

She took a deep, shaky breath. “Yes. And he’s a druggie. He was high as a kite. Denied everything. His friends backed him up and threatened me.”

Raelynn sighed, then made a clicking sound with her tongue. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. So no chance on getting your money back?”

“That’s a big fat no unless someone can actually prove that he took it.” She paused. “Is it still raining there? Did you lose power?” Nikolas’s threats rang in her head. She didn’t believe he actually had goons who might set her home on fire, but he was right about one thing. Big old buildings on Drake Isle had been known to go up in flames due to faulty wiring or a lightning strike or something else equally unpredictable. Standing here in Boston made her feel utterly helpless.

“My lights have been flickering, but they’re on right now. The ferry stopped running an hour ago, though, and Crazy Jake said the tide’s high by the bridge. But we’re okay. We’ve survived worse storms than this.”

Emmy knew. The island was strong and stable, made up of solid ground and people you could trust. The locals, the people who truly belonged, didn’t sleep with each other and then stab each other in the back. They didn’t steal, either. They were honest and true and when they fought, it was out in the open. Life was simple. Complications were few. City life, certainly sophisticated ball life, wasn’t for her. Blake and Bryan and all the rest of them could have it. She looked outside again. Even in a raging storm her heart yearned to go home.

“What about Blake?” Raelynn asked.

“He’s a scumbag who’s going straight to hell.”

“Oh. Ouch. What happened?”

But Emmy couldn’t tell her friend how badly she’d misread the situation or that she’d actually gotten naked with him right before finding out the whole invitation to the ball was simply a way to get her to sign over Inner Sanctum. And worse, much worse, apparently he knew Bryan and was about to offer him a job at Eastefire. Nothing like having betrayal served up as both the appetizer and the entree. She could only imagine what dessert might be.

“I’m coming back,” she said as she stared at the rain. “No reason for me to stay here.”

“Tonight? Are you sure? I heard they’re starting to close roads. Maybe you should get a room up there for the night. Wait until the storm’s over.”

“I don’t want to wait.” More than anything, she wanted to go back to the island. Put on her pajamas, climb into bed with ice cream, and let the wind and the rain and the waves outside her window lull her to sleep. “I’m coming home.” Now that she’d said the words out loud, she couldn’t wait another minute. She could see a few cabs lined up along the curb. One of the drivers had to be willing to make the trip to Drake Isle. She might as well max out one of her credit cards while she still could.

“I’m leaving now, Rae.” She hesitated and thought of Nikolas’s threat. Then she added, “If you don’t hear from me by midnight, tell Andy something’s happened.”