24 years old
My head is pounding and the strong smell of liquor burns my senses. I try to move, but my body feels like it’s dead weight after being run over by a semi-truck. My hand moves and bumps into a bottle, sending it scattering over the edge of the table and onto the floor. Even the noise of the shattering glass feels painful. I’m never drinking again. Worst decision ever.
“Hey Zan! The party started, you coming?” I hear one of my buddies, Ray, yell from my back patio. I can hear splashing and music coming from that direction, which only makes the pounding in my head worse. Somehow I manage to pull myself up to a sitting position and wave him off. The sliding door clicks shut, and the room goes silent again. My hands cradle my head, and I gently apply pressure to the parts where it hurts the most. A memory from the first time York and me tried alcohol flashes in my mind. My head hurt just like this the next morning, but back then cool, soft fingers massaged my scalp, making it better. I drop my hands, trying to get to my feet. The room spins and I almost stumble into the coffee table but manage to catch myself. The apartment is a fucking mess. Bottles and cups are all over the floor and counter tops, even weirder is the pink boa and glitter. The hell happened?
Stumbling up the stairs, I open the bedroom door and lock it behind me. My eyes land on the sheetless bed. Oh yeah, we burnt those last night. After finding Carrigan a few days ago screwing another man on those sheets, in our bed, they had to go. Just like she did. And twenty-four hours later, Ray was here with his friends from Las Vegas. Then the weekend-long party happened from there.
Shaking my head, I go straight to the bathroom and jump in the shower then brush my teeth. I need to get out of here. My liver won’t survive if I spend another day celebrating my new single status one more day with Ray. I need some stability, someone who’s responsible and will make me see reason. I need York. Fuck, that means I need to go to work.
I sneak out of my own house, somehow, and drive into the office. Most days, the drive doesn’t bother me, but today it does. The sun beating down on my car isn’t helping. I can’t tell if I’m going to be sick or if my body will just explode from the inside out. Right now, I’d take either one. I’m late when I get in, but I do not care. This just makes up for all the other times I come in early and leave late.
“Good morning, Mr. Knight,” my secretary, Katie, calls as I head into my office. I manage to nod at her, not missing her look of concern. I’m never short with my employees, especially not Katie. She’s the sweetest person and basically keeps my life organized, so I don’t miss anything that happens within these walls.
Sinking into my desk, I hit the speed dial on my phone. “You made it in after all,” York’s voice drawls through the speaker.
“I think I’m fucking dying, but yeah,” I confirm, blinking my eyes again to keep the blurriness away.
“I told you not to invite Ray for the weekend. You never listen.”
“I needed to get my mind off things,” I spout back.
“Did it help?”
I grunt, I don’t know if it actually did or not. I don’t feel any better or worse than after I caught her cheating. I feel nothing at all. Maybe because I knew something was going on. For months, we almost never shared a bed. There was no intimacy, but she still wanted my credit card during the day. Or maybe it’s because the feelings on my end hadn’t been the same in years.
“I think you know that answer,” I tell him.
York sighs, and I can tell that, even through the phone, he feels uncomfortable with what he’s going to say. I need to hear it though. “Zan, you’ve known for a while now that things were different. Carrigan was a completely different person once we moved back here. She wasn’t listening to you about racking up bills, and she was never supportive when you needed her, like when your company relaunched. You two don’t even like hanging out together anymore. That’s probably why it’s not hitting you like it should.”
He’s right. I know he is. Things haven’t been the same. Carrigan had grown to be someone I couldn’t stand to be around. Even our engagement didn’t last long. She wanted more time. She wanted to wait for the ring. And I went along with pushing it off because, deep down, it didn’t feel right. Like all the reasons I loved her in high school and college weren’t there anymore; she was someone I didn’t recognize.
“I feel like something is missing,” I tell him truthfully. York sighs again over the phone, both of us silent. It’s not the first time I’ve felt this way lately. I don’t know what brought it on. Maybe it was the success I’ve been having with Knight Industries or the way our businesses are booming, putting us one step closer to joining forces. Either way, the victories have felt hollow. The celebrations lifeless.
“It will get better. Maybe now that Carrigan is out of the picture, you can get out of all the bullshit she pulled you into and just do things for you. We have a big second quarter coming up. Don’t forget the bet we made,” York reminds me, and I smirk.
“You mean the round of golf and surfing you’re going to owe me?”
“Fucker, you’ll be the one buying box seats at the baseball game.” He laughs. York hates losing and our quarterly bets always bring out his competitive side. He’s been like that since we were young. Back then he would always have the toughest time if we lost a game.
Cookies.
Chocolate. Caramel cookies.
The thought drops into my mind, turning me completely sideways. I haven’t thought of those in a long time. Whenever I felt bad, didn’t score high enough on a test, or we lost a baseball game she would always appear with those cookies or a damn song. My chest clenches. Amelia. I’ve pushed her so far out of mind and refused to think about her or any of those memories, but today, they’re front and center. If Amelia was here, she would know how to make me feel better.
“Are we still meeting with your grandpa for dinner?” I ask York, tension rippling across my back.
York sighs. “Yeah. He says he has a contract for me to look over. And something about a new business he’s planning to make an investment in. I guess he wants it added to the books as soon as possible.”
I frown. Arlo Allister is usually not the kind of businessman to just randomly decide to add a new investment without discussing it with York. While I still hold a grudge against the man, I have come to respect him as a businessman. Arlo seems to be more caring about his employees and tactful with his business, unlike how my grandfather was.
“He can’t wait until you’re home for the holidays in a week to talk shop?” I push a little further. The why is unclear to me. It can’t be because I’m curious, but the nagging in my mind won’t stop.
“I guess not,” York answers, his tone almost bored, “we only have dinner on Christmas, so it doesn’t really leave much time for business.”
“I’m surprised, doesn’t Arlo usually do the big Christmas party the weekend after?”
“Used too. But it’s just been him and me the past few years. Mia doesn’t come home much,” York offers, and I can tell he thinks I’m uncomfortable.
“She loves Christmas. I’m surprised she’d miss it.” I manage to keep my voice neutral, as if we’re just having a discussion and not talking about his sister, who I accused of ruining my life. York pauses. I can imagine his brow is probably creased, and if I was seeing him in person, he’d definitely be side-squinting at me.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” he says finally, sighing, “I haven’t heard from her in a long time. I’ll have to bring it up to our grandfather. Maybe he’s heard from her. Anyways, so see you tonight. Six p.m. like always.”
“See you then,” I commit and hang up. The pressure behind my eyelids builds and the sunlight streaming into my office is now making me wince. I lean my head back in my chair and breathe deeply. With each breath in, I imagine the smell of chocolate, butter, sugar. Caramel. Green-blue eyes, the colors of turquoise water, floats around in my memories, making my own eyes shoot open. It’s going to be a long day.
Anytime I drive back into Magnolia Hills, I’m hit with nostalgia but also a sense of old anger and hurt. My high-school days are a mix of memories of hanging out with friends, while also of being miserable in my grandfather’s home. The loneliness and helplessness of my situation back then weighed on me, but it also made me a fighter. I hate to give that man any credit for my success, but without the resentment I felt toward him, I never would have studied as hard as I did. And because of that, my time at Knight Industries has actually meant something to me and the employees I manage.
The only piece of this old town that actually brings me any comfort is when I see the Allister mansion. The white columns and massive porches and balconies give the home an almost fairytale-like calmness. The green landscaping is always impeccable, and anytime I look out over the yard, I remember playing catch on that lawn, riding bikes, and having pool parties outback. While my own home had been a jail back then, the Allister mansion was a safe haven.
Getting out of my car, I can hear the soft keys of the piano inside, and my chest seizes, like a strong grip being held on my heart. A rush of excitement bursts in my veins. Is she here? Was York wrong? Amelia Allister hasn’t left my mind all day. I can’t seem to shake her memory or the simplistic ways she used to take care of us when we were younger. Before the contract, before everything went to shit and I grew to hate her. My adrenaline spikes, and for the first time in years, I almost feel afraid to see her. I made her cry. I said horrible things to her.
“Are you coming or what?” York suddenly calls from the front doors, interrupting my thoughts about Amelia. I shake my head, trying to push them out. There is no reason I should feel this way, except for our childhood history. I do feel sorry sometimes for the way I treated her. Nodding at him, I hurry up the front steps and inside.
A floor-to-ceiling Christmas tree with all the trimmings sits in the front foyer. Glancing around, I notice that the usual display and decorations aren’t there. “Is your grandfather feeling okay?”
“I think so.” York shrugs.
“Usually there’s more decorations up.”
“It’s just him here. He probably doesn’t want to do it anymore,” York explains and leads the way to the formal dining room.
Arlo is already at the table, his plate filled and two other places are set-up. For some reason, my gut sinks. “Arlo,” I say, reaching over to shake the man’s hand. Without smiling, he shakes my hand back.
“Zander, glad you could join us.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I tell him, before taking a seat across from York. One of the maids walks in with two more plates and sets one in front of me. The chicken and vegetables smell amazing, and I dig in, finally feeling hungry for the first time today. While we eat, I listen to York and Arlo discuss the new contract and the possible investment he is looking into pursuing.
“Can’t this wait for two weeks? We can look at it over the holidays,” York offers, and I glance between the two.
Arlo sets his silverware down and takes a drink of his wine. “The day after Christmas, I’ll be traveling. I won’t be back in the country until the New Year.”
York chews, but his eyes stay on his grandfather. “Why aren’t you sticking around here? I mean I have enough work that I can stay busy, but what about Mia?”
I glance from York to Arlo at the mention of her name. Once again, there’s a tug in my chest, but the usual ripple of anger isn’t there. Sitting back in my chair, I take a sip of my wine, keeping my face neutral.
“Mia isn’t coming home for the holidays, just as she hasn’t the past few years,” Arlo answers his grandson, while dabbing his chin with a napkin. York falls silent, contemplating the information his grandfather just shared. My best friend almost seems shocked. Has he not noticed his sister being absent?
“Isn’t it dangerous for her to be alone on campus over winter break?” The words escape my mouth before I can stop them. Arlo glances at me, and I swear I see a flash of anger before he looks back down at his plate. He folds his hands in front of himself.
“Right,” York agrees with me, he leans closer to his grandfather, “she should come home. I’m sure the dorms are completely empty. It’s a primetime for break-ins and carjackings. The campus is mostly safe, but that’s when it’s fully populated.”
“She isn’t on campus,” Arlo responds, his eyes dashing up to York then me. “Mia has been studying abroad for the past two years. She hasn’t been back in the states since she left.”
“Wait, what?” York looks absolutely shocked. Did he really not know?
Arlo pushes his chair away from the table, before speaking. “You two are absolutely clueless.”
“What does that mean?” York glares at his grandfather, who is already up and out of his seat, walking away from the table. York glances at me, and I shrug. I’ve never seen Arlo so pissed before. We both get up and follow him, down the hallway to where Arlo’s office is. Arlo clicks on his computer monitor and flips it around.
“This is what I’m talking about. York, your sister hasn’t been in the U.S. for two years, and yet, you have absolutely no idea. What’s wrong with you that you have no clue what she’s been doing with her life? Did you know Amelia graduates in a year?”
Arlo starts flipping through pictures. Some of them appear to be surveillance; Amelia isn’t looking at the camera, as if she has no idea they are being taken. In a few, she looks how I remember her, then as they go on, she is with three other girls; they’re smiling, going to class, shopping, a picture of her going into a tattoo parlor. More images of her eating, at the beach, with a group of people. As each image continues on, I start to notice her tan skin, the way she looks happy, confident, and at ease. There is a smile on her face that I can’t remember ever seeing. As if distance is doing wonderful things for her. The last three images are ones that Amelia has clearly sent Arlo. She’s looking at the camera. They must be more recent. Her hair is long, to the middle of her back, and she’s dyed it a light pink. The color catches my eye, and when paired with her hazel ones, her complexion and her smile, she looks fucking sexy. I shift in my seat, my brain crawling around in my skull. When have I ever thought Amelia Allister was sexy? Now. A raw possession creeps up my spine, wanting to reach through the computer and pull her back to me. The contract between us suddenly feels less like a death sentence.
“You boys took something inside her and broke it. You blamed a contract that was made between old men and forced her to be responsible for it. So she took responsibility. She’s working on herself, growing up, and finishing school. The only issue is that she had to travel thousands of miles away to get that piece of mind. You want to be CEOs? You want to take care of your employees? Run the world? You can’t even take care of your family. She is the only family you have left York, and you let her down.” Arlo clicks the computer, and the images disappear, right as Arlo’s words start to sink in.
“She didn’t have to leave,” York tries to argue, but even I can tell he doesn’t have the heart to win this one. In truth, we did make her life hell, and I did threaten her to stay away.
“Your parents only had the two of you, York. I won’t live forever. Maybe you can spend the rest of your life being happy to have your best friend by your side, but your sister…she’s your blood. Your childhood is wrapped in her, whether you like it or not. And I’ve never been more disappointed in you in all my life that you treat your family that way.” Arlo glares at both of us before leaving the room.
I slump back in my chair, completely fucked. What the hell just happened? Out of nowhere, I have the insane idea to go to wherever she is right now and bring her back. Fuck the contract, fuck being mad, I need to see her.
“I really didn’t know she wasn’t in the country,” York finally says. “I guess I just always thought she’d stay an arm’s length away, like always.”
“He’s right.” I look at the doorway, where the office door is wide open from Arlo’s escape. “We did and said shitty things to her.”
York exhales loudly. “It’s that damn contract. You’re my best friend, and I didn’t want it to take away your future.”
My shoulders hunch. Fuck. I don’t want the contract to take away my future either, but suddenly, the idea of seeing Amelia again…“York–”
“No, man. Don’t even go there with me tonight, okay. For years, you have been against this contract. You still are. I am too. Do not mix my sister up in your head with whatever happened with Carrigan. Fuck sakes, your engagement ended and you just broke up with your longtime girlfriend. You aren’t thinking clearly.” York rubs his head, his lips thin.
“What if I am thinking clearly?” I shrug. He might have a point. The past few days have thrown me. Even though I knew my relationship was over I had refused to believe it. I don’t really need York’s permission to go after his sister, if that’s what I wanted to do, but it would make it harder if he was against it.
“You aren’t,” York bites back. “Take a break, okay? This is a lot in one day.”
“York.” I glance at him and let him see the seriousness written on my face.
“Zan, leave my sister alone. Give yourself some time, okay? You have a year before she graduates, and two years before the contract reaches its end date. If when she gets back, you still feel the same, fine. I don’t know if she’ll still have you, but you can try. Not until then though,” York warns me off, but he’s not getting it.
Wait a year? I don’t even think I can wait a month. My blood sings in my veins while memories come back to me. I just want to talk to her. We used to be friends too before I ruined us because of the contract. I’m curious about how she is. “What’s her number?”
York raises his brow. “No.”
“Just her number,” I promise. For now.
York sighs and reaches into his pocket and grabs his cell phone. He pulls up her name in his contact list and sends it to me. “This is it. Back off, Zan, for real.”
I nod, but make no promises. York can say what he needs to, but I want to know everything about the woman Amelia Allister has become. There is a good chance she might tell me to take a giant leap off a high cliff. Given how mean I was to her I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve been thinking about her all day. Out of nowhere, all my mind can think about is our childhood and every time I think of her, I feel her comfort and the gentle way she cared about us. I’ll wait. I’ll work through the things I need to change about myself. I will also try and talk to Amelia.
