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It’s not a big deal, really. Money; it’s none of my business.
I was once a New York native, which means I knew who the Malones were, even before I met Archer and fell stupidly in love. I know how the Malones made their fortune, and so by that theory, means I know the Maloneshavea fortune.
But Archer left when he was sixteen. He walked away from everything that family included, and he chose to rent an apartment and spend his cop salary on a fancy truck. We buy street food for lunch and eat dinner at the bar five nights out of seven.
We don’t vacation—except for right now.
And we don’t use a private jet—except for yesterday.
Frustrated, I set my coffee on a small, square glass table and my manila folder beside that, then I angle on the couch and tugthe phone from my back pocket. It’s my lifeline to home. It’s my comfort when I’m approximately three thousand nautical miles from my non-suite bedroom.
The breeze out here is cool. Fresh on my skin and calming as the morning sun already has a little bite to it.
Tendrils of my hair dangling from my half-assed bun flick my face and lips, but I push them back and glance along the side of the boat, past every chair and umbrella out here for our use. Past the glistening windows and the silver railing that beckons a person closer to the edge.
When the coast is clear—as in, Archer is nowhere to be seen—I snatch up my coffee in my free hand and dial with the other. Settling back into my seat, I bring the phone to my ear and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Finally, the line connects and Aubree’s sniffly mumble is mostly drowned out by the wind around me. “Hello?”
“Aubree?” Scowling, I drag the phone from my ear and check the time—seven in the morning—then I bring it back again. “Why are you still asleep? It’s a workday. I’m counting on you to keep our building running.”
“It’s four a.m.,” she whines, a long, drawn-out yawn racking through our call. “Why are you waking me up at four o’clock in the morning?”
Oh shit!The time difference! I forgot we’ve jumped across the continent. Which would explain why Archer is still snoozing.
“Sorry…” I grit my teeth and snigger. “I forgot.”
“Where are you?” Smacking her lips, she grunts in the back of her throat. “What time zone are you in?”
“Uh… Atlantic Standard, I guess.” Morning sunshine prickles against my skin, rejuvenating me, alongside the Factor pumping in my veins. It doesn’t feel like four in the morning to me. “We’re on a fricken boat, Aubs. A really big one.”
“Like, on a cruise? Archer took you on an old folks, Elvis impersonator cruise?”
“No.” I bring my coffee up and take the first sip of the day. The one that gives me life and warms the very bottoms of my lungs. “No, we’re on a private boat.”One hundred thirty million dollars! “A really expensive boat that’s giving me a complex. It’s okay that Archer’s family is rich, right? Like… he could have been, but he’s not. But his brothers are, which means he can borrow their things sometimes, which makes him rich adjacent. Rich adjacent is okay, don’t you think? It means comfortable, but without the actual being rich status.”
“I don’t…” She yawns again. “That was a lot of words for four a.m., Chief. You didn’t know Archer was rich?”
“No! I mean, no, he’s not rich. His family is rich. Felix, especially, is rich, now that their bastard father is dead. And Felix can be kind of generous, so he lets us borrow his plane and boat sometimes. But Archer, specifically, is just rich adjacent.”
“Which kinda makes you rich adjacent too, no?” Her voice begins to clear. Her words, slurring less. “You’re married, so whatever he is, you are, too.”
“Nah. I’m just me.” I sip again, this time allowing myself to truly value the caffeine on my tongue. Coffee appreciation comes in layers, really. The first sip is for survival. The second, for admiration. The third is for gluttony, and by that point, I have no qualms swimming backstroke in the sea of deadly sins. “I have a job, Aubs. And a home. I have a credit card, but no credit card debt. So that makes me… ya know? Independent.”
“You’re sitting on a boat right now? In the Atlantic Ocean?”
My lips drop into a pout. “Yes.”
“You’re not even rich adjacent, boss. You’re just in denial. Did you need something, or am I awake purely because you missed me?”
Sullen, I lift my feet to the coffee table and plop them on top of the fluttering manila folder before its contents fly away. “You seem braver when I’m so far away, Doctor Emeri. I can still kick your ass from all the way over here.”
“Sure you can. Just sail your big-ass boat around the coast and flip me off when you pass through Copeland harbor. What can I do that’ll lead to this call ending and my eyes shutting for a few more hours before I have to get up for work?”
“You’re grumpy,” I mutter unhappily. But then a thought hits me, my eyes widen and my back snaps straight. “Oh! I have a secret, Aubs. A big, fat, juicy secret Archer said I’m not allowed to tell you.”
