“Backup?”
“Things are… tense.”
“Tense how?”
“They have expectations of me.”
“Goddamn, this is like pulling teeth,” she huffs, turning in my arms until she’s facing me, one leg slung over my hip. “Would you pretty please tell me why you’re so stressed about going to your parents’, what their expectations are, why you’re so upset about them, and I don’t know… any other relevant information?” She arches her eyebrows at me in a challenge.
“Brat.”
“Yup, now fess up.”
“I won’t just be working for my dad. He wants me to take over the company.” The words fall out on their own, relieved to be told to someone finally.
“And this is a bad thing.” Stella’s face scrunches in confusion.
“Yeah, I just… don’t want it. They’ve built a construction empire, and they want to hand it down. Some people see it as an opportunity, but I can see the effect it’s had on my dad and… it’s not for me.”
“Construction?”
“Yeah, my dad is the CEO of Finlay Construction, passed down to him by his dad. And now it’s my turn, but I would give anything for it not to be.”
“Finlay Construction… I’ve heard of them. I knew you had the same last name. I guess I never put it together…” she trails off, her words tight and clipped.
“I’m guessing you’re familiar with their shady business practices?” I shake my head in disgust. “It’s partially why I want nothing to do with it. I’ve seen the way they treat people, and how they function. Even if I’m in charge, the way the place is set up, I would have to tear it all down and build it back up for it to be better. And I don’t want to build it.”
Stella nods thoughtfully.
“Even though it’s your legacy?”
“Yup.”
She pauses before she speaks. “It’s good that you know what you want and that you’re following it. Too many people get stuck somewhere thinking theyhaveto be there when their heart is calling them somewhere else.”
Her voice is a balm. It soothes the ache in my heart that I get when I think about the future that’s been planned for me. A future that I want no part of.
“Thank you,” I whisper, ducking my face into the crook of her neck, letting her drag her fingers through my hair, playing with it where it’s long enough to start curling.
I place small, deliberate kisses along her shoulders. She shifts in my arms, a contended sigh escaping her as I begin to kiss lower down her chest.
“So, you’ll come with me?” I ask, knowing I’m not playing fair at all. Her grin turns sassy.
“If you keep doing that, I just might.”
Chapter 23
James
Christmas Eve will always be sacred to me. When we were little, Nessa was quiet, timid, and tended to hide away during gatherings. Getting her to dress up and be presentable and to behave ‘correctly’ is probably what gave our mom grey hairs so early. I can still hear the screaming matches in my mind, tears flowing, accusations flying.
Now that it’s just the two of us, Nessa lights up on Christmas. Each Christmas Eve I always make sure to be home to celebrate with her. We put on themed pajamas, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts. It’s the closest thing she gets to a family reunion, so I do everything I can to make it special for her.
This year, we have my signature apple cider recipe and Nessa has some kind of pasta bake in the oven. I got her a notebook to log new restaurants she tries—she loves finding new spots in the city and writing about them in her food blog,‘Beauty and the Feast,’she even gets invitations to review, or gets paid to—and she got me some booktok book that’s supposed to be as good asBridgerton, saying if I’m going to watch romance I may as well read it.
We’ll see about that.
When we’ve got dinner in our laps and drinks in our hands, we settle in to watch the Jim Carrey version ofThe Grinch, a family tradition. When we were kids, we would watch this once we were able to sneak away from the grownups party, and now we make sure to watch it every year, maintaining our one good memory.
