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I followed him in, my heart punching up into my throat as I peeked around the man and spotted Toby standing by a roaring fireplace with a glass in one hand. He glanced over his shoulder, and a small, tight smile graced his lips as our gazes met.
“Thank you, Davidson.”
“Sir.”
With that, the doorman retreated and closed the doors with him. Silence fell, broken by the soft crackling of the flames and the occasional shift of wood as it burned. I pressed my lips together, thanking all make-up science for the long-wear lipstick that so far had survived the anxious licking of my lips. After a pause, I stepped forward.
“I brought some wine,” I said, awkwardly holding the bottle up. “Although I imagine it pales in comparison to what you have here.” I bet my entire life’s salary wouldn’t even be enough to afford something here.
“I wasn’t sure you would come,” Toby replied. His voice was… different. Each time we had met, he had been straight to the point and cold, almost to the point of mocking, but right now he sounded normal. Like a regular, everyday person and not Lord of the Manor.
“I said I would,” I replied, lowering the bottle.
“Yes,” Toby nodded, and he turned to me. “But after everything, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had changed your mind.”
I frowned faintly and stepped toward the ornate desk near the door. I set the wine bottle down amidst some scattered papers, a glistening inkwell, and a Newton’s cradle.
“If this dinner is to persuade me to change my mind about the house, then you should know that it will be a waste of time.” I straightened up and tightened my grip on my clutch. My jaw tensed faintly even as my heart continued to beat like a drum. “This extravagance doesn’t intimidate me and there’s really nothing more you can say or offer that will make me change my mind. I want my home, and I will fight for it.”
The words filled the air between us, the strongest threat I could manage as I faced down Toby and internally, I praised myself. No matter what he threw at me, I had said my piece.
“I’m sorry,” Toby said.
I froze, a pulse of shock moving through me. “What?”
“I’m sorry.” Toby drained the glass in his hand in one gulp. “I know that may surprise you, and you’d be well within your rights to be, but I am sorry.”
This was a trick, right? Some kind of ploy to get me to give up the house.
“I’m sorry for how I have treated you ever since I learned of your existence. I… in truth, I was in shock, I think. When my—our father passed, it was so sudden that it didn’t feel real. Suddenly I had Shareholder’s calling me night and day, lawyers and more, all full of expectation and none of it felt real. How could it? My Dad was dead.”
I remained silent, watching Toby move from the fireplace and sit on a nearby chair. I hovered awkwardly, unsure.
“Then, within a day, I learned he had been unfaithful to my mother and that you existed. It was surreal. I felt like I was walking in a dream.” His eyes remained downcast on his empty glass. “That doesn’t excuse how I acted or how you were treated, not at all. I was an asshole. Suddenly you were here, this grown person that my dad had never mentioned, and yet he had thought enough to include you in the will. It was all so… strange.”
“You’re telling me,” I chuckled softly, slowly sinking into the sofa opposite Toby. “It was just as strange for me. I never… I never knew there was anyone else.”
Toby finally lifted his head, meeting my gaze. “I am sorry for how I acted. How I treated you. And I am sorry for not having the foresight to pay your hotel further. That was a dirty trick that I did because I felt backed into a corner when in reality, I was stubbornly holding onto the wrong things.”
I almost wanted to pinch myself. This had to be some kind of dream, surely?
Toby was sitting there giving one deep, heartfelt apology, and I tried not to lean into it. Getting excited was dangerous, but at the same time, I empathized. I hadn’t been pleasant to be around after the passing of my mother and I understood that the pain of losing a parent was unique. It was terrible to navigate.
“I have a place to stay,” I replied. “So, the hotel is of no consequence.”
“Still.” Toby set down his glass, raked a hand through his hair, and then rubbed at his short goatee. “It was a dick move. And I’m sorry. So, my invitation to dinner was part apology and part… part hope that we could start fresh? Maybe?”
I squinted slightly and studied Toby. He did appear genuine, and I recognized an open sadness in his eyes. He did seem to be putting himself out there and I had come all this way. The very least I could do was secure my house.
“Maybe we should take things slow,” I said with a light smile.
“Sure.” Toby nodded, and a hopeful spark flashed through his eyes.
Spotting a picture next to Toby, a silver photo frame, I nodded to it. “Is that your family?”
“Yes. This is my wife, Camille.” Toby picked up the picture and tapped the taller woman who stood next to him as he passed it over. I recognized her immediately as the beautiful woman by his side at the Gala. Even in this picture, her hair was poker straight.
“She’s gorgeous.”
