Mom: I’m sorry I can’t be there.
Sloane: I really don’t blame you. It won’t be a long meal. I can tell you that much.
Mom: You inspire me, Sloane.
Sloane: Inspire you?
Mom: To care less what anyone thinks. To put myself first. To be stronger.
Sloane: I don’t feel strong.
Mom: Oh, my darling. But you are. And I’ll never regret sending you that text, because that day you learned just how strong you can be.
From where I’m standing, I have the perfect view of Dad and Sterling sitting beside each other at a table by the window. They’ve got their heads together and smiles on their faces, like two little boys whispering in class.
Little boys.
That’s precisely what they are. After the last couple months spent in the presence of real men, I’m seeing the difference clearer than ever. It has nothing to do with money or education or a person’s public reputation. It has everything to do with what’s inside.
Soul. Heart. Actions speaking louder than words.
These two assholes can say whatever the hell they want. I’m not falling for it anymore. I see right through it.
For too long, I was a soft, demure little dove. And then they burned me. Scorched me.
Turns out I’m a dragon and I’m fed the fuck up with boys and their bullshit.
My shoulders roll back as I lean against the outside wall of Cartier across the street from The Frontier.
I’m a little hungover today. Winter and I hit it off. Turns out we have more in common than I ever imagined. She’s fun and totally down to drink too much cheap beer and lie on the floor with me.
I have her to thank for the power suit I’m wearing and also for the ride into the city. I also have her to look forward to as a neighbor in Chestnut Springs because once I’m done with this stupid fucking dinner, I’m heading straight back to that little house.
Where I belong. Where I feel like myself. I’ll figure the rest out as I go—for myself.
And there’s something freeing about having no rules. After a lifetime of having a path and plan laid out before me, I’m going to do . . . whatever the hell I want.
I roll my shoulders one more time, check both ways across the four lanes of traffic, and step onto the street.
Even jaywalking feels good.
I give the host a flat smile, holding one hand up. “No, thanks. I know where I’m going.” Without giving him a chance to answer, I march past, right toward the table by the window where two of the men I least want to see are seated.
I thought I’d be nervous, but I just feel . . . exhilarated.
“Dad, Sterling.”
Their heads snap up as though they’re surprised to see me. Usually, a staff member would guide me here, but that’s exactly what I didn’t want.
“Sloaney . . .” Sterling eyes me, head to toe. “You look very severe in that outfit.”
I almost laugh. After months of me ignoring him, that’s what he has to say.
“Thank you.” I shoot him a sarcastic smile before moving to the chair beside the window, across from my dad. As far away from Sterling as possible.
Dad’s eyes sweep over me, assessing me, and I wonder what he sees. I wonder if he can tell I’ve lifted the veil and see him more clearly than ever.
I don’t hate him. I am indifferent toward him.
He used to tell me he wasn’t angry, just disappointed with me. And that’s how I feel about him now.
Deeply disappointed. Because I’ll always love him. He’s always been someone I’ve looked up to, and to find out that was all fabricated, or not true to his character, is disappointing. Knowing that another man in my life didn’t love me quite enough to overcome his own shit stings.
But it stings less with my hair pulled back, nails painted blood red, and wearing a black pantsuit with shiny tuxedo lapels.
Winter was right. I feel ready to kick ass and take names.
“Happy birthday, Sloane,” Robert says, lifting a glass of wine without offering me one.
I reach over and pour myself a big one. Another faux pas at a place like this is not waiting for the server—or to over-pour the way I just did.
But I’m fucking done waiting around for these men to get their shit together, and I deserve a jug of wine for even being here.
“Thanks, Dad,” I finally reply after leaving them both hanging with their glasses in the air while I poured. Clearly, neither of them is gentlemanly enough to offer.
Glasses clink and we drink. I keep my eyes laser- focused on my dad and roll my lips together primly, tasting the wine. It’s expensive, but I’d rather crush a Buddyz Best.
“When’s Mom coming?” I glance around the restaurant, really putting on a show of it, but I know she isn’t coming. She told me she isn’t. Mom also told me she found that video on Dad’s phone and sent it to me anonymously on my wedding day. I assume it was blackmail fodder.
It would seem she and I came to our senses right around the same time. It would seem Robert Winthrop has finally pushed us both too far.
“She’s a little under the weather today. It’s just the three of us tonight.”
“Actually . . .” a voice I never expected to hear chimes in. My heart lurches in my chest, composure slipping for just a second. It feels like I’m moving in slow motion as I turn to see Jasper standing at the end of the table, looking heart-stopping in a perfectly tailored suit, eyes on me, smug grin on his lips. “It’s going to be the four of us.” He steps toward me with authority, leans down and tips my chin up to him, eyes capturing mine with a look of ferocity. “Sunny, I’m sorry I’m late.”
Late.
It’s such a simple sentiment. But it warms me from the inside all the same.
He’s here.
All I can manage is a firm nod, one he returns before pressing a bristled kiss to my forehead and taking a seat beside me.
My rock. My comfort. The boy with the sad eyes and the heart of gold.
I turn toward him. “You have a same.” I glance down at the dainty Rolex on my wrist. “Right now.”
“We made a promise in that truck, remember? I can’t go without you again. Nothing is more important than being here with you.” He palms my knee under the table and inclines his head toward my outfit. “You are stunning, by the way.”
Nothing is more important than being here with you.
I swallow a couple of times, unable to tear my eyes from the man before me. The promise. He’s right. And I promised him too.
“Jasper . . .”
His hand squeezes reassuringly. “The answer is yes, Sloane.”
My head tilts. “Yes, what?”
“I’ll take that gamble. All day long. Every damn day.”
My eyes sting and I will away the wetness. I’m not going to cry here. I will not let my dad and Sterling be privy to this moment.
When I glance over at the two men, the fury is clear on their faces.
“You are not part of this conversation, Gervais.” My dad glares at him like he might make him cower. But that power has slipped from between his fingers, right before his eyes.
Jasper leans back in his chair, smirks, and settles in. “You’re right about something, at least. I’m not here to contribute. I won’t say a word. I’m just here to be with Sloane.”
“You’re overstepping,” Sterling whines, practically vibrating with fury. “You don’t belong here.”
Jasper smiles at him, keeping his cool and poking at the men across from him in the process.
“Enough,” I snap. “Was there something you both needed to say to me? Because I think I’ve made myself crystal clear. I told you”—I point at my dad—“that I would speak to you when I was ready.” I shift my finger over to Sterling. “But I never want to speak to you again.”
“Sloane, you need to get over your hurt feelings.”
I arch a brow at Sterling. “You just don’t get it, do you? What you do with your dick doesn’t hurt my feelings. What you did with your dick was merely a wake- up call. A wake-up call that I don’t care about you even a little bit. I am indifferent. It’s been easy to ignore you because I don’t think about you at all.”
The more I talk, the more Sterling matches the deep red color of the wine in his glass. The more Jasper’s fingers slide along the inside seam of my wide- leg pants, the more my confidence builds. Just having him here, next to me . . .
It’s all I’ve ever wanted. We’re so much better together than we are apart.
“That’s only because you’ve been whoring around with this trailer trash.”
Jasper’s entire body goes taut beside me. My mouth pops open in shock at the venom in Sterling’s words and tone. It might be the most passionate I’ve ever seen him over anything other than barrel-aged scotch and hunting exotic animals.
I’m about to say as much when Jasper jerks and Sterling’s gasped squeal reaches my ears. An expression of alarm flashes across his features right as his face tips back and disappears backward in a splash of red wine and the loud clatter of the chair hitting the floor.
Sterling sputters as he struggles to right himself.
“Did you just—”
“Kick his fucking chair over?” Japer provides, cutting off my dad’s question. “Yes. Because you might be okay with him talking to your daughter that way, but I am not. Must have learned better manners in the trailer park.”
My dad at least has the good sense to look a little cowed.
But me? I do what I always do in inappropriate situations.
I burst out laughing as I watch Sterling on all fours, awkwardly pushing himself to standing. Dress shirt stained with red wine. Hair all fucked. And not in a good way.
“You’re dead, Gervais,” he tries to sound tough but everything about the man rings so damn hollow.
It makes me laugh harder.
We’ve made a spectacle and I’ve got the goddamn giggles.
“Sloane, pull it together. People are watching,” my dad snaps at me.
Tears well in my eyes and I rub them, but the laughter won’t stop coming.
Jasper leans down and whispers in my ear. “If it makes you laugh, I’ll kick his ass while everyone watches.”
I hear the amusement in his voice and wave a hand across my throat, silently begging Jasper to stop. Because now he’s just egging me on.
Because he knows me.
He gets me.
“Sterling,” I wheeze out. “I will never marry you. Like . . .” A giggle hits me and I force it back down. This sentence is just so much more offensive to deliver while laughing. But I can’t even muster any fucks to give about that. “Ever.”
“And Dad . . .” I shake my head, laughter slowing. “I don’t even know. The things you’ve said to me in the last few months?” I place a hand on Jasper’s. “The way you treat the people I love? I’d like to think I can find it in myself to forgive you, but I’ll have to do a little soul-searching to decide if that’s true or if that’s just me still being obedient. A little girl is supposed to love her dad, but he’s supposed to love her back. Protect her at all costs. And if these last months have taught me anything, it’s that you don’t love me the way I’ve loved you. I deserve better.”
I peek over at Jasper now, finding his eyes on me like they often are. But today they aren’t sad. They’re glowing with pride. They sizzle across my skin.
I look back at the two men across from me. “I’m done settling for less than I deserve. Sterling, fuck off forever. Dad, figure out how to deserve a relationship with me. Maybe one day we can talk.”
The chair screeches back as I stand suddenly.
I reach for Jasper’s hand, making an obvious show of doing it in front of them. Then I’m tugging him along, wanting out of this godforsaken restaurant once and for all.
As I brush against Sterling’s arm on my way past, he grabs my bicep. “Where’s the ring? I want it back.”
I circle my arm abruptly, tugging away from him right as Jasper steps in close, looking like he’s ready to murder Sterling for daring to put a hand on me.
“I lost it.” I laugh again and wonder what is wrong with me. Why I have to laugh at the most inappropriate times. Right now I am truly unhinged.
But it’s Jasper who really gets the last laugh when he leans in against my ex’s ear and says, “I fucked that ring right off her finger.”
I wish I could commission an artist to paint the expression on Sterling’s face when that blow lands. It would be money well spent.
Jasper guides me out of the restaurant. We take the exact path we took all those months ago. Except everything is so different now.
So up in the air.
So unplanned.
So . . . happy.
