“Who’s your brother?” Maisie asked, obviously knowing the answer but not being able to process it yet.
“Colter. He’s my half-brother. My mom is his mom.”
“You’re his… He’s your…”
“Yes,” she said.
“You’re related to him?”
“Yes,” she repeated.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you clearly hated him when we first met, and I worried you’d hold him against me. I’m not like him, Maisie. I tried to convince him to–”
“Make that deal?” Maisie shot up from her chair. “That wasyouridea, wasn’t it? You were the advisor he mentioned.”
“I amnotthat fool’s advisor. I just met him for lunch and asked him to consider giving this place historical status. I suggested you might quit if he did that, but I didn’t tell him to threaten you or–”
“You thought I’d quit if I got what I wanted?” Maisie asked softly.
“I was trying to make it a win-win, Maisie. You wanted this place to be protected.”
“I want to win the race, too, India.”
“I know thatnow. When we first met, though, I thought it was more about the bookstore. We’d had one conversation, you and me.” India stood. “I’m sorry. I know I should have told you about him, and I was going to, after the election. I didn’t exactly expect to meet you and for us to start dating.”
“But wearedating, and I didn’t know your brother was my opponent.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I can’t stand him. I can’t even say that I love him because he’s my blood. I don’t know that I do. I promise you that I’m not like him.”
“I don’t think you’re like him.”
“You don’t like rich people, Maisie.”
“I don’t like richassholes,” Maisie corrected. “I likeyou, though.”
“Do you still?”
Maisie sat back down and said, “Yes, but…”
“But you don’t want this anymore?” India asked when Maisie didn’t finish her sentence.
“You should’ve told me. I would’ve understood. Why couldn’t you just tell me, India?”
“I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore, and I didn’t want that. You’re the first woman, aside from my ex, whom I’ve cared about in any way other than friendship in averylong time. I couldn’t even give Finley what I’ve wanted to give you, Maisie. It seems silly, I’m sure, but I showed up to that soccer game feeling like an absolute idiot in my heels, eating really bad popcorn, watching a game I don’t understand, and sitting on cold bleachers that made my back hurt. It’s easy for some people, but easy formeis an amazing glass of wine and my jacuzzi or a night at the opera or the ballet or in an art museum, taking in the work. For some reason, I met you, and I wanted to actually try to give you things I’d never even offered the woman I’d been with for years, and I worried that when I’d finally gotten to the point where I wanted that, you would push me away because my brother is Colter fucking Stone.” India moved around the table. “But today is your day; it’s not about me or what I want. It’s not even about us, or whatever we could be; it’s about you and this election. So, I’m going to get out of your way and let you handle this. You should not have to deal with me or my mistakes right now.” She motioned to the table Maisie was sitting behind. “I will be rooting for you, okay? I’ll be watching the results come in, and I’ll be rooting for you.”
Then, India turned and left the store.
CHAPTER 19
Maisie stared at her computer because she had nowhere else to put her eyes. She was sad, disappointed, worried, and stressed. India had just left the shop, and Maisie had wanted to go after her to tell her that she understood. She had to own her part in this. She’d been so focused on India being inflexible and so wealthy, having a valet at her condo, that she had contributed to the barriers between them, making India jump through metaphorical hoops to prove that she could actually give in a relationship.
“God, what is wrong with me?” she said to herself because there was no one else there.
