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On some level I’m hoping that I’ll wake up the next morning free from this ever-more-confusing dream—no more bodyguards, no more husband, no more handsome, dashingly perplexing brother-in-law. But when my eyes flutter open, I realize I’m in Lucas’s bed, and I groan.
With Lucas away, I don’t bother making the bed, instead drifting to my still-unpacked suitcase and throwing on a pair of jeans and a tank top before tossing my chestnut locks into a messy bun. It’s hardly an outfit that screams “high society,” but there’s no one here to give me shit for it, so I plan to take full advantage. Glancing at my phone, I see several texts from Mom, asking whether I’m settling in all right, whether I need anything else from the family home, whether Lucas is taking me out for a nice newlywed breakfast. I look at my still-unpacked suitcase, then at the empty bed, and decide it’s better not to respond. She doesn’t need to know how much I’d rather be literally anywhere else.
There’s also an unanswered call from Callie, and my spirits lift a little when I see it. I dial her back, desperate to feel normal again, as I drift out into the kitchen and assess the situation. Theo must still be in bed, because the door to his room is shut. Although the refrigerator is stocked, my stomach is still churning too much for anything but tea, so I put on the kettle just as Callie picks up my call.
“There’s the blushing bride,” she teases. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Nah, don’t worry,” I reply. “I didn’t get much sleep, anyway.”
“Oh?” she responds coyly. “Lucas keep you up until morning, eh?”
“Ugh, Callie!” I run my hand down my face. “Don’t be gross.”
“I’m just saying, there are worse ways to spend your first night of marriage, Vivian.”
“Yeah, well, I’m having trouble thinking of many,” I retort. “Besides, I was alone last night. Lucas dropped me off at his place and then took off.”
“Wait, really?” I can hear the bewilderment in her voice. “Why?”
“He went out on f— on an emergency business trip,” I reply, rushing to correct myself before the words “family business” slip out. Beyond getting married, keeping the nature of my family’s work a secret from my best friend is the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and part of me still feels guilty for letting her think we’re upstanding investment bankers. But the last thing I need right now is more regret, so I rush on. “Anyway, that’s fine by me. The longer I can avoid facing reality, the better.”
“Well, in that case, how about I swing by this afternoon?” Callie asks. “The gallery’s closed today, and I’ve got something I want to run by you that I have a feeling you’re going to want to hear. It’s good news, so don’t worry.”
“Good,” I laugh, “because I don’t think I can take any morebadnews right now.”
“Oh?” Callie asks. “Trouble in paradise?”
I steal a glance at the closed guest room door. “You could say that. Come by as soon as you’re up. I could use a morning of normalcy. And by normalcy, I mean you and me gossiping over booze. Nothing more exciting.”
“Sounds like the brunch from hell,” Callie says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “Let me just get dressed and I’ll be over.”
“Sounds good, Callie.” By the time I hang up, I’m feeling a bit better, but soon the silence of the apartment gets to me, and when the kettle starts to shriek, I nearly jump out of my skin. God, it’s pathetic. There are people out there with real problems, and I’m sitting here bitching because I’ve been handed a future of luxury on a silver platter.
It’s like Dad always says.The family comes first. Now and always.
“Welcome to the rest of your life,” I mutter to the empty kitchen as I sip at my tea.
“Who are you talking to?”
A familiar voice from the hallway makes me whirl around. Theo is in the doorway, watching me, his dark hair tousled from sleep and his muscular body clad in sweatpants and a white tee.
“How long have you been standing there?” I demand, fending off embarrassment.
He smiles at me, and I can see the black stubble on his jaw and the heavy brows that frame his gray eyes… gray eyes that are now possessively drinking in the sight of me.
“About since ‘Sounds good, Callie,’” Theo replies, walking across the kitchen like he owns the place and sliding into one of the tables by the island. “She a friend of yours? Imaginary, maybe?”
“Cute,” I retort. “Do you always eavesdrop on people?”
“Only when the conversation is worth listening in on,” he says without missing a beat. “Call it professional curiosity.”
“You still haven’t told me what ‘profession’ that is,” I reply, and dare to follow that up with, “considering your father is Victor Emmerico, I have a feeling whatever it is, it’s more than fundraising and day trading.”
“What makes you say that?” Theo asks, his eyes still not leaving me.
The silence spreads out between us as I straighten up from the kitchen counter. “You expect me to believe every legitimate stock broker comes packing heat?”
Theo smirks. “You’re more perceptive than I gave you credit for, kid.”
