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“I can’t tell you how delighted I am that you’re both here. Staying for the week, right?” He asks, addressing Willow, now putting the jokes aside for the time being.
“That’s right. I wanted to take her away from the limelight before she left me.” I make the statement for my friend but look Willow in the eyes, hoping she sees the honesty in that statement. For a moment I believe she sees it, and looks at me questioningly, but full of adoration.
“As taboo as I may be to high society these days, it’s where I grew my roots.” Since the moment she told me she was Ken and Daphne’s daughter, I’ve gotten the inkling this is something she rarely shares. The fact she’s mentioning it so casually tells me she’s growing comfortable, and, in that moment, I realize that maybe I was right all along. Willow is perfect, and strong enough for my world that is always demanding, and maybe at the end of every day, I’ll be able to come home to her.
The hostess motions for us to sit and takes our drink orders. We’re at a smaller table outside, and the fresh breeze off the Atlantic Ocean blows up to us and rustles Willow's long hair, reminding me it’s not blue. I need to change that. I send a quick text to our driver and put my phone away.
“So, tell me all about you, Willow. How did you two meet? Where do you work? Do you work?” Chloe rambles on, always the social butterfly. Chloe can hold her own in our crowd, but her roots did not begin in a wealthy family.
“I work. I own and operate my own tattoo shop in downtown San Diego, or at least I did.” She casts a sad glance my way but doesn’t elaborate on the last part.
“Was Archer an investor?” Chloe coos.
“Definitely not.” Willow visibly tenses at Chloe’s assumption.
“We actually met at a poker game. Willow here was a bright blue-haired shark who took Christian and me for every penny that night,” I tell them and place a calming hand on her thigh, squeezing so she knows I’ve got her.
“What a badass. I don’t even know how to play poker,” Chloe says and takes the mimosa from the waitress.
We all order food and talk about all the places we want Willow to see. Conversation flows easily now, and she’s relaxed tenfold. My friends include her in every discussion topic, just like I knew they would. Christian is a good guy, but he’s white-collar through and through. Enzo’s family built their fashion empire from the ground up. He knew how to make a man’s leather shoe at the age of five, and now thirty years later, he’s gracing the cover of Forbes magazine, and sipping mimosas in Rio de Janeiro, married to a lounge singer.
That’s the beauty of building something yourself. You have choices and more power to make your own decisions. If you’re handed an empire like I am, it’s something you didn’t build yourself; you have to follow certain rules, and unfortunately, do as you’re told.
