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I laughed softly. “Does everyone know?”
Lyla gave me an apologetic look. “I may have overheard you talking about it at lunch the other day.”
I nodded. “I’m fine,” I said, and that was mostly true. “I’m actually going on a trip with Brad next week,” I said. “I’m really looking forward to getting out of town for a bit.”
“Like, with Brad with Brad?” Echo asked, having scooted over to hear our conversation. “I’ve been telling you for a year that you should absolutely climb that multi-millionaire like a tree.”
“Babe,” Sawyer said, grinning at his wife while he shook his head.
“What?” She shrugged. “I’m not wrong.”
I burst out laughing. “He’s my best friend—”
“All the more reason the chemistry will be fire,” Echo cut me off, taking another sip of her drink.
I waved her off. “I’m helping him out with a business venture,” I explained.
“Oh, is he going to invest in your clothing line?” Lyla asked. “I know you’ve been wanting to put that out on a wider scale for a while.”
“No, this is for him,” I said. “And he’s offered to help me out with the line before, but I don’t know…”
My parents were just like the multi-millionaires Echo spoke about a second ago, but that didn’t mean I was. I had a trust fund, sure, but my parents didn’t exactly approve of the career direction I’d taken. They wanted me to be a doctor or politician. They loved me, but they didn’t open the flood gates when it came to support for my business, and they didn’t approve of me using the fund for anything other than living situations, education, or charity.
Which was fair, it was their money really. They’d earned it and invested it. But I’d been determined to open my boutique regardless. And I’d succeeded. Now I was making more than enough money to live comfortably without having to dip into my trust fund at all.
“I keep saying you should take him up on his offer,” Zoe said, nudging me. “You know Brad never invests in things that aren’t winners.”
I smiled at them graciously. “I appreciate it. And I have been sketching out and slowly making pieces for a solid clothing line for a while. I just haven’t figured out how to put it all together yet.”
Dennis said I was reaching too high.
Said my designs wouldn’t cut it in the fashion industry because they were too inclusive.
But that was the point of my clothes, to fit all body types and to celebrate all body types. Hell, I had curves for days and sometimes going shopping was an absolute bitch. The best clothes I’d ever worn were the ones I made because they fit my body perfectly. I wanted to offer that on a larger scale, but Dennis had constantly made me doubt my abilities.
Which was stupid, when I thought about it, because what the hell did he know about fashion? God, I’d been so engrossed with making him happy I never once stopped to think about what would make me happy or why he wasn’t doing his damnedest to try the same.
“I might,” I finally said. “Maybe we’ll talk about it on the trip.” My response was met with a round of applause I didn’t feel I deserved, but I smiled at everyone in gratitude anyway.
“I’m so ready to dance. Who’s in?” Anne asked as she stood up, pulling Jim with her.
She was met with a riotous response before almost everyone in the lounge area leaped up and followed her down the stairs toward the dance floor. Even Ridge, who looked like he had a permanent scowl hiding under his mask, slowly trailed downstairs and stood off to the side of the dance floor, intently watching as Lyla, Anne, and Persephone formed a girl dance group.
Our spot on the balcony gave us the perfect view, allowing us to see the Reaper family take over a huge chunk of the space, swaying this way and that to the music.
“You don’t want to dance?” Zoe asked.
“I will in a little bit,” I said, raising my drink. “Want to finish this first. You go ahead.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, go have fun,” I said, urging her on. She winked at me and headed downstairs, easily folding into the Reaper crowd, bumping hips with Lyla.
I watched with an odd combination of pure joy and sadness sweeping through me. I was happy to be included in this little tight-knit group, but another part of me was incredibly sad to not have what most of them did—a healthy, loving relationship that looked fun as hell.
CHAPTER 4
Brad
“I’m glad we could come to an agreement,” I said over the phone as I leaned back in my chair, my home office equipped with everything I needed to finish my day here. “With my backing, I believe your condo development will be a real hit in Charleston.” I moved some things around on my desk as I wrapped up my last work call of the day, then hung up.
