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“You did?” I face Harper.
“Yeah, he remembered me from school and asked about you. He’s trying to get his family here for the holidays or something like that. I didn’t catch all of the details.”
“So, you gave him our number?” I ask. This is all starting to make sense. Harper and her husband Liam own Walsh Executive Jets.
“Yes, was I not supposed to?” She lifts an inquisitive eyebrow.
"Of course, we're expanding our business, and he may need our services," I mutter, relieved when she places the magazine in my hand until Charlee retakes it.
“That was last week. Refresh my memory. We knew him in undergrad?”
“Let me see.” Hunter walks over.
“I was his English tutor. Damn.” I snatch the magazine back.
“Touchy…touchy.” Charlee folds her arms with a tilt to her head.
"I'm not touchy. It's nothing. Now, let me hold the baby." I face Harper, who's now cradling Raine in her arms.
“Not until you wash your hands,” Charlee says.
"Leave it alone, Charlee Raine." Darius places a hand on her shoulder. "Wash your hands. You're next."
I take his out.
I walk past the offices toward the break room. This is the executive floor of Platinum Prestige, an elite concierge service. We—Hunter, Harper, Charlee, Parker, Chase, Taylor, Payton, Ryann, Jordan, and I—started almost nine years ago. Ten women with guy names who have built and maintain a solid sisterhood and a lucrative business. We’ve dubbed ourselves the GIB—guys in black—because when you have ten bad-ass women strolling into a meeting dressed in all black, we’re a sight
to behold.
I stop at the sink turning on the hot water. It trickles over my fingertips, as I rerun the conversation in my head. I didn’t mean to snap at Charlee. I owe her an apology.
I return to the sitting area, and Raine is still the center of their attention. I loop my arm through Charlee's and rest my head on her shoulder.
“Sorry,” we whisper in unison, laughing it off.
"You know I don't mean any harm, Alex."
“I overreacted.” I glance up into Charlee’s eyes.
“Why?” Harper asks.
"I don't know. We have unfinished business, I guess." He's the one I let get away because I didn't have the courage to stand up to my family. It's an old regret that cuts deep.
My guys, graciously, let my little attitude go. I cradle Raine in my arms. She has a button nose, rosy cheeks, and jet-black curls like her mother, but her wise eyes resemble her father's. I inhale her fresh baby scent.
“Darius, are you planning for one more?” I tease.
"No, I want my body back. But I agreed to table the talk until Raine is two." Charlee answers, glancing up into his eyes as he wraps an arm around her waist. The way she leans into his body holds a sense of security and peace. She's a riot, and most men tried to tame her. But not Darius, he laughs at her quick wit, bad singing, and protects her fragile heart.
Darius loves Charlee.
How does it feel to be wholly accepted and loved?
Charlee and her family leave a while later. We stand around counting all the babies born into our family with Raine, Hunter's baby girl, Drew, and Ryann's baby boy Xavier. After a half-hour of chatting, the guys head back to their offices.
“Alex, can you stop by my office?” Hunter asks.
“Sure.” I follow her down the hall with the magazine gathered to my chest. We sit at the same time as she extends her hand. I glance at Mateo and reluctantly let him go.
