I didn’t follow Isabella after she left. Instinct screamed at me to comfort her, but reason stayed my hand. There were too many eyes on us right now; I didn’t want to risk dragging her deeper into this mess.
Plus, I had about a hundred other people to placate before I could focus on my personal life.
Reporters, board members, company execs, friends and family…my phone had been ringing off the hook since the photos exploded across the internet that morning. I wasn’t a movie star or rock star, but there were still plenty of people interested in the lives of the rich and scandalous. Bonus points if the scandal affected the future of one of the world’s largest and most famous corporations.
“What were you thinking?” My mother’s fury roared across the line, undeterred by the thousands of miles separating New York and London. “Do you understand what you’ve done? We’re weeks out from the vote. This could destroy everything.”
A migraine crawled over my skull and squeezed. I stared out the window of Valhalla’s conference room, my stomach churning with a cocktail of emotions.
I had no doubt Victor Black was behind this mess. The National Star was his publication, and the bastard was petty and vindictive enough to send someone to tail me after I bruised his ego.
“They’re innocent photos,” I said. “And it’s the National Star. No one takes the Star seriously.”
It was the same excuse I’d used earlier. Unfortunately, my mother wasn’t as easily swayed as Parker.
“Innocent would be photos of you reading to children on World Book Day, not cavorting around New York with that woman,” my mother said coldly. “A bartender? Really, Kai? I set you up with someone like Clarissa and you choose a run-of-the-mill gold digger? She has purple hair, for heaven’s sake. And tattoos.”
Anger chased behind my shame, incinerating it in one fiery burst. “Don’t talk about her like that,” I said, my voice lethally quiet.
My mother fell silent for a moment. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her.” A hint of derision tainted her words.
Of course not.
The denial sat on the tip of my tongue, but no matter how hard I pushed, it wouldn’t budge.
I liked Isabella. I liked her more than anyone I could remember. But there was a vast ocean of difference between like and fallen. The former was a safe, clearly marked path. The latter was an abrupt, potentially fatal crash off the side of a cliff, and I wasn’t ready to take that leap.
I didn’t know how to categorize my feelings for Isabella. All I knew was the thought of never seeing her again felt like a serrated blade slicing through my chest.
“We can still salvage this. Like you said, it’s the Star.” My mother moved on from her original line of questioning. She didn’t press the Isabella issue, likely because she was afraid she’d get an answer she wouldn’t like. “Lean in on its unreliability. Reassure the board. And, for God’s sake, stop seeing that woman.”
My grip strangled my phone. “I’m not breaking up with her.”
The past few months had been a shitshow. Isabella was the only bright spot in my life right now. Remove her, and…
Fuck.
I loosened my tie, trying to ease the sudden pressure in my chest.
“Be serious.” My mother switched from English to Cantonese, a sure sign she was pissed. “You’re willing to throw your future away over a girl? Everything you’ve worked for. Your career, your family, your legacy.”
My teeth clenched. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. They’re just photos.” Not even risqué ones, at that.
Dammit, I should’ve taken more precautions. I’d been arrogant, careless. So sure no one would ever catch on.
What had I been thinking?
That’s the problem. You weren’t.
I’d been too distracted by Isabella, and it’d come back to bite us both in the ass.
My mind flashed back to the note I’d received at the Saxon Gallery. I’d brushed it off as a prank, but perhaps there was more to it than I originally thought. The timing seemed awfully suspicious.
Be careful. Not everyone is who they seem.
Who could they be talking about? Victor? Clarissa? Someone else at the gallery?
“They’re just photos now,” my mother said, drawing my attention back to her. “Who knows what else will come out? It only takes a spark to start a fire, and any scandal, no matter how small, could lose you crucial votes.”
The pressure expanded, dimming my vision. I couldn’t focus. My usual cold clarity had vanished, leaving a whirlwind of tumult in its wake. There were a thousand voices in my head, clamoring to edge the others out like commuters shoving their way onto a rush-hour train.
Keep her. Leave her.
“I’ll fix it.”
“You only have—”
“I know how much time I have.” I rarely snapped at family. Asian children simply did not talk back to their parents, no matter how grown up or successful they were. But if I didn’t get off the phone in the next five minutes, I would explode. “Like I said, I’ll fix it. In two weeks, the photos will be a mere memory and I’ll be voted in as CEO.”
The other option was too awful to contemplate.
Losing. Taking orders from Tobias. Becoming a laughingstock. The taste of ashes filled my mouth.
“I hope so.” My mother didn’t acknowledge my rare loss of temper; there were bigger things at stake. “Or you’ll go down in history as the Young who lost control of his family’s empire. Remember that the next time you feel like running around town with your new girlfriend.”
After I hung up, I sent the rest of my calls to voicemail and took a car to Isabella’s house. I had the driver follow a winding route in case I was still being tailed, but it didn’t matter much if I was. The photos had done their damage.
Isabella looked remarkably calm when she opened the door.
“I’m okay,” she said before I could ask. If it weren’t for the redness tipping her nose and rimming her eyes, I might’ve believed her. “It’s just a job. I’ll find another one. See? I’ve already started looking.” She gestured at the job search site pulled up on her computer. “I’m thinking about adding photogenic even in candid photos in the special skills section.” A small wobble betrayed her joke.
I didn’t smile. “Isa.”
“I’ve been fired before. Not as many times as I’ve quit but, you know, the end result is the same.” A semblance of a smile strained across her face. “What’s one more failure on the books? It doesn’t—”
“Isa.”
“It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. The only shitty part is if Parker blacklists me with other bars. She knows everyone in the New York nightlife industry. I don’t think she will—”
“Isabella.” I opened my arms. “Come here, love.”
She fell silent, her eyes glassy. Her chest heaved from her rapid-fire rambling, and she didn’t move for a long, drawn-out second.
Then her face crumpled, and she fell into my open arms with a quiet sob that ripped through me like shrapnel. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head and held her as she cried, wishing I didn’t feel so damn helpless.
No one was above Valhalla’s rules, not even the managing committee. I could easily find her another job or pay her bills so she didn’t have to find new employment, but that wouldn’t go over well. She was too independent to accept anyone’s charity. Besides, I knew Isabella well enough to know her termination from Valhalla was not the root issue here.
She confirmed it less than a minute later when she lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen from her tears.
An ache clawed its way into my chest and stabbed at my heart.
“I’m sorry.” She hiccupped. “This is so stupid. I totally didn’t mean to cry all over your really nice and probably very expensive shirt.” She rubbed her thumb over the mascara-stained cotton like it would magically erase the black marks.
“It’s just a shirt.” I grasped her wrist, stilling her. “And it’s not stupid. You’ve had a…taxing day.”
“Kai Young, the king of understatement.” Isabella’s watery smile dissolved almost as soon as it formed. “It’s not even the getting fired part that gets me. I mean, obviously I’m upset, but part of me expected it to happen. I just…” Her throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “I feel like such a failure. My mom’s birthday is in a few weeks, my book isn’t done yet, and I’ll have to go home and tell my family I got fired. It’s worse because they’ve been so supportive. Well, besides Gabriel, but that’s another story. They’ve had faith in me this entire time, and I keep letting them down.”
“You’re not letting them down. There’s no time limit to success, and they’re your family,” I said. “They want you to be happy.”
“I’m happy when I’m with you or my friends. But when you leave and I’m alone, I just feel…lost. Like I don’t know where I’m supposed to be in life.” The last word came out as an achingly vulnerable whisper.
The ache intensified, creeping into my bones and veins like poison without a cure. I had billions in the bank and the most powerful people in the world on speed dial, but I’d never felt so powerless.
“You’re not alone,” I said softly. “You have me.”
If it were anyone else, they’d have to pull the words out of me with pliers. But with Isabella, the admission floated as easily between us as a gust of air.
Her eyes brightened with a fresh sheen. A tear streaked down her cheek, and I brushed it away with my thumb, wishing I could offer more than words and a promise. I’d give anything to see her happy—truly happy, not just happy in the moment. No fears, no anxieties, just the freedom to bloom to her fullest potential.
“We’ll be lost together.” A smile edged my lips. “Lucky for you, I have an excellent sense of direction.”
“Funny, because I don’t have any direction.” Her expression dimmed further before she shook her head. The tense melancholy retreated an inch. “Every man thinks they have a great sense of direction. I bet you refuse to ask for help even when you are lost.” Isabella sniffled out a laugh. “Anyway, enough about me. What about you? The board must be freaking out about the photos. I’m not exactly CEO partner material.” Concern swallowed the fleeting humor in her eyes. “It’s not going to affect the vote, is it?”
Her question grabbed hold of my heart and squeezed. She was the one who’d gotten fired, and she was worried about me.
In that moment, I wanted to hunt down every person who’d ever made her feel like she was a failure, a disappointment, or anything less than fucking perfect.
“It’s caused some complications, but they’re nothing I can’t handle.” I smoothed away the furrow in her brow with a kiss. “Don’t worry about me, love.”
“I know we should’ve been more careful,” she said quietly. “But is it bad that I don’t regret what we did?”
“No.” My lips traced the curve of her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “Because I don’t either.”
I’d replayed and dissected the past three months dozens of times since the photos surfaced. The piano room, the holidays, our first “date” in Brooklyn and subsequent library rendezvous…they were reckless, yes, but they were also the only patches of sunlight in the overwhelming grayness of my life. I hadn’t noticed how muted my world was until Isabella burst in, full of life and color and energy, like a rose blossoming in the middle of an arid desert.
I wouldn’t trade any of my moments with her for all the calm and peace in the world.
I thought I abhorred chaos, but somehow, somewhere along the way, I’d grown to love it.
“What are we going to do?” Isabella whispered. “The Star could still have people following us…”
“I’ve taken care of that.” The special team I’d hired immediately upon seeing the photos could ferret out a tail faster than a bloodhound could find a bone. It should’ve been enough, but impulse and a desperate desire to wipe the worry from her face pushed my next words out of my mouth. “Let’s go away.”
She startled at my words. “What?”
“Let’s go away for the weekend. Take a break, recharge and regroup.” The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of a strategic withdrawal to somewhere warm, away from prying eyes and the icy claws of the city. “My family owns property in Turks and Caicos. No one will bother us there.”
Isabella stared at me like I’d suggested walking barefoot to California. “We can’t just leave.”
“Why not?”
“Because!” For once, she was the caution to my spontaneity. “You’re already in hot water over the photos. Even if your tail doesn’t follow us there, someone could see us and sell more pictures to the tabloids.”
“They won’t. Trust me.” I nodded at her computer. “You have to finish your book and find a new job. I have to put out a hundred fires and craft a new strategy for the CEO vote. We can work on them together. It’ll be our version of an executive retreat.”
Isabella hesitated.
“You’d be surprised how much a change in scenery can unlock your creativity,” I said. “Think about it. Would you rather work in an overcrowded Midtown café or on a beautiful tropical island?”
“I don’t go to cafés in Midtown. They’re too depressing.” She was caving. I could see it in her eyes. “Are you sure no one will see us?”
“Positive.”
“God, what a fucking day.” She shook her head, a burble of hysterical laughter escaping from her throat. “I woke up, got fired, and now I’m thinking about running away to Turks and Caicos.”
“To be fair, there’s no better time to run away than after getting fired,” I said. “Unlimited vacation days.”
My mouth curved when she let out another small yet genuine laugh. My professional life might have been going up in flames, but the sight of Isabella’s smile had a way of righting my world, if only for a time.
“Twist my arm, why don’t you?” Her eyes contained a lingering trace of sadness, but their usual sparkle was making a slow, steady return. Isabella didn’t see it, but she was the strongest, most resilient person I knew. “If you ever tire of the executive life, you should go into travel sales. You’d make a killing.”
My smile inched up another millimeter. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Now for the real question.” Isabella grinned, and a rush of unsettling warmth filled my stomach. “What does one pack for a weekend getaway in the Caribbean?”
