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“I appreciate that, Damian. I really do. I suppose it’s probably for the best that she’s heading home, then.”
I straightened, a strange pit forming in my gut. “What?”
“Yeah, she’s coming back. Finally!”
“To live?” I forced out.
“Well, I can’t say for sure, but it’s likely. Really, this is where she belongs.”
All I could see in my mind’s eye were the flashes of Jessa in New York—those big, freckled grins, the elegant dresses, the absolute delight at being flanked by important people, shrimp platters, and glittering chandeliers.
But more than that—the bubbling enthusiasm for her dresses. The constant creation and focus on fashion. The stars in her eyes when she showed Cora her designs or made new connections at events.
She couldn’t find that back home, not at this level. Oakville wasn’t for her. Even I knew that.
Jessa belonged in New York City.
“I guess I’m kind of surprised,” I finally muttered. “She seemed to like it here. I thought she’d find a new job and try to stay, but…I guess I was wrong.”
“We’re going to make sure she stays where she should,” Jeremy said. “After all, her mom needs her right now. She relapsed again this week. So we’re all dealing with that.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry Jeremy.” Disappointment crashed through me, but more for Jessa. I knew Tara would have said something cruel to her by now. And I wasn’t there for it, to help her sift through the rubble after the dust settled from Tara’s latest missile.
This all felt wrong. Pieces out of place.
But hell if I knew how to put them back together.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to work,” Jeremy said. “I know how busy you all are. Promise you’ll come visit soon.”
“I will. Hey, Jeremy—when’s Jessa planning on heading down?”
“I think she’s got a flight next week. She’ll be staying with me, so don’t worry. She’ll be taken care of.”
We said our goodbyes, and I hung up the phone and shook my head.
Moving back in with Jeremy was the last thing I imagined Jessa wanting.
But nobody in her family even cared what she wanted. They just wanted her to do whattheythought she should want.
Frustration bubbled up inside me, the urge to correct Jeremy, Francis, and anyone else who spoke poorly about her so fierce I didn’t know what to do with it. It was one of the reasons I’d needed to leave the conference room. Another bad word about Jessa and I would have socked Francis in the fucking throat.
And here I was, ready to go to bat against Jeremy, her own brother.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
I needed hyper-focus. That was all I had left in my toolbelt. I needed to get so lost in work that everything else ceased to exist.
I gathered my things from my office and headed for the penthouse. I was done with socializing, done with interruptions. I just need to retreat.
I holed up in my bedroom, remembering to grab a protein bar and a water bottle before I did, and sank into death metal and hacking.
Axel started pinging me around five. I ignored everything. Trace joined in around seven. I had no time for responses—only advancing in my hunt and refilling my tumbler with ice from the mini fridge.
By eleven, my bottle of whiskey was a quarter gone. There was pounding on my door. I turned the music down and twisted to look at the door.
“What?” I called out.
Axel stuck his head into the room. “Dude. You gotta take a break.”
