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“I see.”
Aidan smiled again at my politeness. “We all grew up in Chicago. Our home lives were difficult in different ways, for different reasons. When we left home, we moved in together in a run-down old apartment that cost us four hundred dollars a month. We lived there while we finished school, and we all worked menial jobs while Dane built the software. When we sold it, we used the money to start Tower VC. The rest is history.”
I thought about that, four teenaged boys living in an old apartment that was better than home, trying to make a better life. “It’s a good story,” I said.
Aidan shrugged. “My point is that even though I have money now, it doesn’t change my roots. I’ve fought for everything I have, and I’ll keep fighting if I have to. I may wear nice clothes, but I basically come from nothing.”
“I know that feeling,” I said. “I come from nothing, too. Though I also come from something.”
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Please explain.”
I bit my lip, hesitating. It wasn’t a story I told many people. But I had the urge to tell it now. “You know my sister, Emma? I think you met her when you hired Executive Ranks.”
Aidan nodded.
“Well, Emma and I are adopted. We were found abandoned outside the doors of a hospital. I was a baby, and Emma was one.”
“Jesus,” he said softly.
I nodded. “From the way the story was told to me, we weren’t hurt. It didn’t look like we were starved or abused. We were just… left.” I let out a breath. “Anyway, we were adopted together by our parents—our adoptive parents—and they took good care of us. Emma and I grew up in a safe, loving home with parents who wanted us. So that’s what I mean when I say I came from nothing, and also from something.”
He was watching me, his dark eyes unflinching. “I’m glad it turned out so well for you. But it must be a strange piece of your life, not knowing who your parents are.”
He’d gotten right to the heart of it, as usual. “I love my parents. And they handled it the right way, telling me about the adoption when I was ready. But it makes me think differently about myself, I think. I’ve had to make my own identity, create who I am, in a way that others don’t. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering what parts of me are me, and what parts of me are my biological paren
ts. If any parts are me at all.”
I’d never spoken like this to anyone, but Aidan didn’t flinch. “I know that feeling,” he said.
I wanted to hear what he meant by that, but they called us to board the flight. We took our seats in business class, and Aidan went back to his laptop, the conversation apparently over.
I thought about working, too—I should work. I had lots to do.
But somehow, unburdening myself had made me both light-headed and exhausted. Just a few words, a few sentences, bottled up for so long and finally spoken aloud. It made me feel like I’d climbed uphill at a run.
I laid my head back against the seat, and I was asleep by the time takeoff was finished.
Twelve
Aidan
* * *
Chicago was colder than New York. It was a little bit uglier, a little harder, and these days it was more dangerous and less touristy. It still felt like home.
Samantha was quiet on the drive to the hotel. She’d slept soundly through the entire flight—maybe unburdening herself to me had tired her out. I hadn’t minded, because she looked good even when she slept in an airplane seat. Besides, I hadn’t wanted to talk about my own history. I also hadn’t wanted to talk about what was in my report about the Egerton brothers.
I’d read the report twice over during the flight, and it was very juicy, but I was distracted. I kept thinking about what Samantha had told me, picturing her and her sister abandoned on a hospital’s steps. Anything could have happened to two tiny, defenseless girls. The world was shit. I owed their adoptive parents a thank you.
Not that I’d ever get the chance to give them one, since Samantha’s personal life was none of my business.
My phone rang as we pulled up to the Four Seasons. It was Noah. “I just landed,” he said when I answered. “Are we drinking or what?”
I glanced at Samantha, who I knew could totally hear what Noah was saying in the quiet of the car. “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. On Monday.”
“So that’s a yes, then.”
“We can meet,” I allowed.
