Present Day
I’m starting to hate this willow tree on the land of the Allister Estate, in the town of Magnolia Hills. I used to think it guarded me, with its long branches, the thickness created enough shade and covering that a person could get lost underneath it. Now, it just seems to be a symbol of loss. Death. I never thought I’d be back here, grieving. And once again, I’m not alone. I can feel Zander before I see him. My hands move to my arms over the sleeves of my black dress, rubbing the chill away, while my back feels like it’s on fire, his eyes tracking me ever since I walked away from the crowd to be on my own. Just like after my parents’ funeral, he’s, once again, with me under the willow tree. This stupid tree.
“I don’t need you to check on me,” I tell him, keeping my back straight and eyes forward. If I don’t give him any attention, he might leave me alone. His feet thud against the ground as he walks closer, and soon, I can smell the oak, leather, and spice rolling off his skin. He’s close, the heat on my back intensifying.
“You shouldn’t be alone.” His voice is gravely, deep, and I hate the way my heart races when he speaks.
“I just needed to breathe.” The house was stifling. After the service, everyone followed York and me back to the estate for lunch. Some were there to speak to York about the business as well, now that our grandfather had passed. I hate thinking about those words. I can’t believe the man who raised me and cheered for me, the man who set me free is gone. I’ll forever cherish the last time he came to visit me in New Zealand, three months ago. I didn’t know he was sick. No one knew. And now his house is full of people crying over him, wanting to hug me, shake my hand, or offer their apologies. I hate it. It’s suffocating, which is why I left York to do his businessman thing and snuck outside to walk down the path that led to the tree.
“Go ahead and breathe then. Take your time,” Zander responds. He shifts slightly so that he’s next to me, even while he’s still behind me, his body towering over mine. I forgot how tall he was and how tiny I feel in comparison to him, even in high heels. I can see out of the corner of my eye that his hands are shoved in the pockets of his black suit pants, and the dark gray tie around his neck is loosened.
I sigh in frustration because there is no way I can relax with him so close to me. His scent is everywhere, and I can’t stand here, holding my breath either. There is no reason for him to be here. And on this day, of all days, I don’t need his sharp tongue lashing out at me. There is nothing left for us to say to one another. I don’t need him to care about me, and I really don’t need him to feel sorry for me.
It’s been six months since I ended our contract. Six months since I’ve moved on and started working toward my future. The future that is currently waiting for me in a hotel downtown. Rise Above is playing their first concert in the States tonight at a popular nightclub. The tickets sold out in less than an hour. I had been planning to be in California today, but not here, and not like this.
I shift on my feet and inch away from him. Zander moves with me. I had managed to avoid him during the funeral. I arrived late and slid into the open spot next to York, the opposite side Zander was on, only as a show of unity. The minute the service ended, I let York lead me out of the church and into our waiting car. Zander must have taken his own because he didn’t join us. I was careful to be on the opposite side of the room as them at the house, and I never let my eyes travel up farther than his knee caps. I half-expected Carrigan to be here as well, the ever-doting fiancée she must be, but I haven’t seen her. Not that I want to. The mental image of their engagement picture still twists my insides, no matter how much time passes. It’s sad and pathetic, and I really just wish he would go back inside.
“Can you leave me alone and go find your best friend?” I snap, irritated to be breathing the same air as him while he just stands there. I finally turn to him and force myself to look at him. I wish I hadn’t. Young Zander was handsome; Zander in his teens was devastating, but this…this man in front of me is absolutely heartbreakingly gorgeous.
He is the same but different. His thick, dark hair is longer now. The ends flip out around his ears and brush against the collar of his suit jacket. He still has full eyelashes and the same plump, reddish lips that seem to be always tipped in a smirk. And his eyes. Liquid gold and mischievous, like a jungle cat playing with its prey. And right now, he has those eyes on me. I take a moment to inhale and exhale, glancing off over his shoulder. Despite how ridiculously attracted to him I still am, I need to remember what lies beneath the jacket and button-up shirt. Even while I remember every curve of his mouth, I also know how easily it can spit out hurtful words.
Somehow I manage to take a step back, putting distance between us, before I look at him again. As if sensing that I’m mentally trying to put up barriers between us, Zander’s eyes flash and he raises a hand, his long, tan fingers brushing against those damn lips of his. I fight to keep my gaze locked with his, until I see a flash of black ink, curling from beneath his sleeve.
“You have a tattoo?”
“I have many tattoos in many different places.” He steps closer to me again, leaning down with our height difference. “Want to see them, Amelia?”
Always Amelia. Never Mia or Mi. Zander is the only one who ever uses my full name, and I hate how hearing it still makes my stomach dip and my thighs clench. There is something about the way the syllables roll off his tongue. It has always done it for me. I was always a sucker just to hear him say my name.
“No. I want nothing to do with you.” I shake my head, pushing away the old thoughts and feelings, and take another step back. “You should go back. I bet York needs you.”
His smirk falls and those eyes of his become intense. “York is fine. I’m worried about you.”
“Yeah, right.” I snort and roll my eyes.
“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” He shrugs and his words anger me all over again.
“No one asked you to. I’m sad, but I’ll be fine. I don’t need you to be worried about me; it’s a little late to act like you care about my feelings.” I give him my back, dismissing him and praying it will be enough for him to take the hint.
“That didn’t take long at all,” he drawls, almost sounding bored.
“Excuse me?” I turn my head over my shoulder, eyes narrowing, as I look at him.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to bring up the past and use it against me. You lasted a little longer than I bet on, but as always, you never disappoint.” His words feel heated, and suddenly, I want to fight. I want to vent all the years of frustration at him because I deserve to do so. If it wasn’t for the word choice he used, I would have. Bet. Him acting like he cares is for a bet, probably with York. I can just hear them discussing how long it will take me to fly off the handle and say a million things I don’t actually mean, just like in the past.
My throat feels suddenly thick, and my eyes burn. I refuse to let him see me cry, so I turn back again and take a few deep breaths. I’ve changed. I’m older, wiser, and I can’t let them win. My arms wrap around my waist, but I manage to keep my head up when I turn and start to walk past him. I don’t make it more than two steps before his hand shoots out and wraps around my arm, stopping me. My body jerks from the movement, and I stumble a little on my heels. His grip tightens, and my skin burns from where he’s touching me. I struggle against his hold, but his grip strengthens as he sweeps his eyes over my face.
“Zander–”
“You look beautiful, Amelia. Even out here, under this depressing tree, on the day of another funeral, you look beautiful.” His eyes look to the ends of my rose-gold hair then to my lips before returning my gaze.
I’m stunned. I don’t think Zander has ever said anything nice to me in years, let alone told me I look beautiful. In my head, I can hear him calling me plain as a wall, telling me my clothes are either too desperate or too boring since I look underdeveloped. Misplaced shame creeps up my neck in a deep pink flush. “I’m—”
“I’ll walk you back inside.” He cuts me off, his hand moving from the top of my arm and trailing down until he tangles his hand with mine, tugging me with him and getting us both moving toward the house.
We’re halfway there, before it penetrates that he’s still holding my hand, his fingers slipped in between my own. I glance around, making sure no one can see us, especially not Carrigan. Panic sets in, and I move my fingers and try to twist my hand away, but he only grips me back tighter. “Can you stop? I don’t want people to see us together, let alone you holding my hand. And you shouldn’t want that either.”
“Why would I care what anyone here has to say about me?” Zander asks, his tone almost bored.
“Maybe you don’t care what people say, but you should care about what your fiancée might think. There is a small number of paparazzi still stationed out front,” I remind him, and give my hand another tug.
Zander stops walking and turns to me, our hands now trapped between us. “I don’t have a fiancée. Or a girlfriend or fuck buddy, right now. Carrigan and I ended a long time ago, and even if she was here, I still wouldn’t give a fuck about what she thinks.”
His eyes study my face intently, but I keep my mouth slammed shut against the absurd amount of questions I want to ask. Mostly about Carrigan. I saw the news about their engagement. But I’ve been off of Instagram and any other type of social media for the past few years, so I wouldn’t know if he’s telling the truth or not. “I’m sorry,” I offer lamely, and he chuckles.
“Don’t be. I’m not.” He shrugs and starts walking again. I sigh because he is still holding my hand, and we’re almost to the house. Fine, he doesn’t have a fiancée or whatever, but there are still important people inside as well as York.
“York—”
“Your brother does not dictate what I do. He’s my best friend and business partner, but I also don’t give a fuck about what he has to say when it comes to this.” He holds our joined hands out, and I almost stumble.
My mind spins and the gravel crunches under our feet. I can see the front of the house now, and sure enough, a small group of reporters is out front. My nerves kick up and make my legs feel shaky in my heels. This is not going to go well. I know it. I try to duck my head and angle my body a little behind Zander’s, but he shifts, so it looks like I’m leaning into him instead. Asshole. I glare at the side of his head, and he just looks amused by the whole thing.
We approach the front, and the reporters notice us. I see cameras rise and then hear the clicking.
“Ah! There you are,” York suddenly calls, and he’s walking toward us. “It’s time for the speech then everyone is heading out,” he tells me, reaching his hand forward.
More clicks. I avoid my brother’s hand and manage to untangle my other from Zander’s. “I’ll head in.”
I move to step around both of them, but the cameras really start clicking away now. As do the questions.
“Mr. Allister, who’s the girl?”
“Mr. Knight, what is your relationship to the family?”
“Mr. Knight, can you comment about your previous engagement?”
I get caught on the last question, but somehow manage to keep walking, as if my heart isn’t beating wildly. York turns to the cameras, preventing all of us from heading inside, and raises his hand in a wave. There is more clicking and then the gates open, so that the reporters are also welcome inside.
We manage to get in the front doors and York leads us over to the middle of the living room, next to the flower arrangements and baskets sent from business partners and associates from all over the world. He and Zander both stand at my sides, close enough to give the illusion we’re a united front. I want to laugh, but this is not exactly the time or place. Instead, I stand stoically and wait for York to give his speech. My skin is crawling with anxiety and I can’t wait to get out of the house and far away from Magnolia Hills.
“My sister, Amelia, and I want to thank everyone for being here today to celebrate the life of our grandfather. Not only was he savvy in the boardroom, but he was also a family man. Today, we remember him, and the patience he had while raising his grandchildren when our parents passed. In the future, we will continue to honor him with good work, remembering the lessons he taught us about family and life.” York gives his speech and I watch while everyone in the room melts from his words. The reporters from earlier hang on his every word, and I catch a few of their curious gazes lingering on me as well. I didn’t miss his opening remark. He called me his sister in front of everyone. I’m not sure if the sting in my eyes is because he recognized me as family or if it’s because he brought me unwanted attention and a connection to him that I did not want or need. These boys are going to be the death of me, I swear.
After York’s speech, the house clears out, and I wait like the docile granddaughter I should be. Once it’s only the three of us again, I feel my protective armor reappear, ready to shield me from anything scathing they might say.
“Well, thank you, York, for taking care of the arrangements and the speech.” I give him acknowledgement first, while also slipping my coat on.
His brow rises. “You aren’t staying? Grandpa’s lawyer was going to go over the will tomorrow.”
“I can’t, I actually have to get downtown to the show. Rise Above is playing their first US show tonight.” I shrug and notice the way he’s frowning, “If there is anything that needs my signature, just let me know. I’ll be back in the states next week, but you can always call Tabbi, my secretary, if it’s urgent.” I hand him her card and watch the look of surprise settle over his features.
York takes the card and gives me a curt nod, but chooses not to say anything. I don’t know what he would say anyway. Magnolia Hills hasn’t been my home in years, and I have already settled my business with Grandpa. When it comes to Allister Holdings, I have no input or care.
Turning on my heel, I race out the door and find my rental car in the driveway. I can feel eyes burning into my back the whole time, and when I glance back at the house in my rearview mirror, my brother and Zander are both watching me drive away. My stomach drops, but I keep going. I don’t understand them or the way they make my chest feel tight. There is no reason we need to make people believe we are a happy family. They already have everything they wanted.
