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For all the meticulous planning about merging their empires, my father and Hanson Ellsworth never considered their children might fall in love. They thought the allure of money and power would be enough to bind Scarlett and Crew together permanently—they’re two logical, driven people who benefit more by being married than by not. And while love might have strengthened their marriage, it is also the one thing that could destroy it. My father understands that, even though I’m not sure he’s capable of the emotion himself. It’s why he didn’t stop meddling once they were married.
After attending my brother’s wedding, I would have bet five figures that he and his wife would be living in separate buildings two years later while one or both carried on discreet affairs. Last I saw them together, they looked nauseatingly happy.
Crewfinallysits up and picks up the drink. He studies the amber liquid for a few seconds but doesn’t take a sip. Instead he swishes the contents around like a connoisseur, watching the whiskey slosh up the sides and then drip down the inside of the glass. “She’s pregnant,” he states, then sucks the whole drink down in one go.
“Congratulations?” It comes out as more of a question than a celebration, since Crew is frowning instead of beaming. These are better circumstances than how he told me Scarlett was pregnant the first time, but not by much.
He nods once, studying the empty tumbler like it contains all of life’s secrets. “Thanks. It wasn’t planned…again.”
“I hate to sound like a middle school health teacher, but there’s this new thing called birth control. I can grab a banana from the kitchen if you need a demonstration.”
Crew rolls his eyes and leans back with a sigh, the barest glimmer of a smile turning his lips up. “Not that it’sanyof your goddamn business, but Lili had strep last month. Scarlett came down with it too.”
“Okay…” I have no idea what strep throat has to do with pregnancy.
His smile deepens a little in response to my obvious confusion. “Antibiotics mess with the pill’s effectiveness.”
“Oh.” I study Crew’s drooped posture. “Scarlett isn’t happy about the pregnancy?”
“Lili is barely one. It’s shitty timing;rougeis everywhere and Haute’s distribution tripled last year. Scarlett wants to be flying around the world and pulling all-nighters at the office and modeling her designs…and she can’t do any of that pregnant. It’s already been a struggle balancing both of our schedules with one kid.Twokids under two?” He runs a hand through his hair, then exhales deeply.
I stay silent. I have no advice to offer him on this topic either. Kids are nothing I have experience with or have really considered, aside from the abstract knowledge that as the eldest child I’d probably need to have them so they could inherit my family’s massive fortune.
Crew has taken care of that for me. Elizabeth Kensington—Lili, as she’s called now—is currently the sole heir of an unfathomable amount of money. Not only the Kensington assets but also her mother’s inheritance, which was massive to begin with and is constantly growing thanks to Scarlett’s supercharged work ethic. In addition to owning a successful magazine, Scarlett started her own fashion line shortly after she and Crew got married.
Aside from the fact it’s landed my brother on my couch, I’m happy to hear Scarlett and Crew are having another kid. It takes more of the pressure off me to settle down and do the same. Especially if this baby is a boy, since we live in a sexist society and the business world is no exception.
“I’m sure it will all work out,” I say, emphasizing how terrible I am at offering useful advice.
I can’t assure Crew of anything. I’m his older brother, yet in nearly every aspect of life, he’s far ahead of me. He’s a husband and father, weighed down by responsibilities his younger self laughed at. And they’re responsibilities hewants, not obligations.
Crew is worried about how this baby will affect Scarlett. But he’s juggling as much work at Kensington Consolidated as I am—a lot. Neither of us are great about delegating important tasks, partly to make it clear nepotism isn’t the only reason we hold prominent roles at the company. Mostly because, for all his faults, Arthur Kensington did a remarkable job of instilling a solid work ethic into both of us, despite the immense privilege and wealth we inherited. Given the size of our trust funds, neither Crew nor Ineededto work a day of our lives.
“Yeah.” He holds up the empty glass. “Mind if I help myself?”
A snarky response forms at the tip of my tongue, about how he’s already helped himself to plenty that was meant to be mine. But I swallow it the same way I compartmentalize everything else. I don’t think Crew has any idea how much the CEO title matters to me, and I don’t want him to. Who gets it has never been up to him—or to me. “Go ahead,” is all I say.
Crew fills his glass and then slumps back down into the couch. His posture is defeated and exhausted. He alternates between glancing at his phone, which he set on the glass coffee table, and out the windows at the glittering city lights.
I yawn. I woke up at five a.m. to work out before heading into the office, and this is the first time I’ve sat with nothing to do all day. Exhaustion is spreading through my body, turning it sluggish and uncooperative.
If Crew was here wondering about stock options or wanting to discuss expense reports, I would know exactly how to respond. But a discussion of his marriage and a new baby has me at a loss.
He cares about his family in a way I’ve never witnessed up close. My mother died when I was seven. Long before then, I saw the cracks in my parents’ marriage. Crew grew up in the same chilly circumstances I did, and now he’s part of a family that laughs and hugs and loves and struggles openly. That doesn’t pretend to be perfect and is infinitely closer to that standard because of it.
“Isn’t the second kid supposed to be easier than the first?” I ask, taking another stab at reassurance. “I mean, you’ve done it all once before.”
Crew laughs, but there’s no humor in the sound. “Yep. Done it all once before. Went to the grocery store at two a.m. because Scarlett wanted strawberry ice cream and we had every flavor of ice creamexceptstrawberry. Slept on a pile of dresses because she pulled everything out of her closet once her clothes stopped fitting. Once I put the toilet paper on the holder the wrong way, and she cried for twenty minutes. She will never let me forget how late I was to the hospital when she went into labor. And then there’s diapers and crying and no sleepingandhaving to take care of Lili on top of all that. Does that soundeasier?”
“No.” Sounds terrible, honestly.
The last time I saw Lili was at Christmas, which Scarlett and Crew hosted. I attended the party at their penthouse, along with about forty other people. The highlight was that Lili had just started walking, wobbling around in a pair of toddler Mary Jane’s, and a custom velvet dress Scarlett designed. Advanced for her age, according to the whispered conversation I overheard by the champagne tower, but hardly surprising considering who her parents are. None of the chaos Crew just described was visible.
The doorbell rings before I can come up with anything else to say.
Crew doesn’t react to the sound. I stand, setting my empty glass down on the coffee table before heading down the hall to the front door.
I’m surprised—and relieved—to see my sister-in-law standing in the hallway when I open the door.
