by Vi Keeland
Chapter 27
* * *
Weston
Two days later, I waited impatiently to see if Sophia would show up.
We had a meeting scheduled with Elizabeth Barton, the hotel’s attorney, to discuss some last-minute contract-renewal issues. I’d expected to get a call that the meeting was canceled, or at least moved to a conference call instead of being in person. I’d arrived a half hour before our scheduled appointment, just in case Sophia showed. But with every minute that ticked by, I lost a little more hope that she would.
At nine on the nose, a flash of red appeared in the doorway. The entrance to the lobby was a wall of glass, so I watched as Sophia hesitated with her hand on the door. She took a deep breath, raised her chin, and squared her shoulders, and I swear I fucking fell even harder for her.
All along, I’d thought our arguing made her so irresistible to me. Her anger was like my flint, and I was the little boy who liked to play with matches. But in this moment, I realized it wasn’t her anger I’d been attracted to at all—it was her strength. When she walked into a room, her beauty was undeniable. When she smiled, it made my knees weak. But when she straightened her spine and her eyes glinted with determination, she wasn’t the flint to my spark. She was the fire. An undeniably beautiful wildfire.
Gorgeous.
Simply perfect.
My heart pounded in my chest as she walked to the front desk and said something. Though she was only five feet away, and the reception area was otherwise quiet, I couldn’t hear a single word. The blood rushing in my ears was way too loud.
Ever since our conversation the other night, I’d been practicing what I would say to her if I got another chance. I’d planned to give her more details—lay all my cards on the table and convince her I’d never planned to betray her. But truly, none of that mattered anymore. Whether I’d planned to go through with stealing information from her or not was almost irrelevant. The fact that I’d agreed to do it and never told her about it was betrayal enough. What I needed to focus on now wasn’t what I’d done wrong, but how I felt about her and what I was going to do to make things right.
With a new plan of action, I got up and walked over to the receptionist, where Sophia was still standing.
“Oh, hi,” the woman said. “I was just telling Ms. Sterling that Ms. Barton is running a few minutes behind. She had an overseas conference call before your meeting, and it started late.”
Sophia stood a little taller, completely ignoring me next to her. “Do you know how long she’s going to be?” she asked. “I have another meeting after this.”
I would’ve bet my bank account there was no meeting after this.
“She shouldn’t be more than ten or fifteen minutes,” the receptionist said. “Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea while you wait?”
Sophia sighed. “No. Thank you.”
She looked to me, and I waved my hand. “I’m good.”
“Okay. Well, why don’t you both have a seat, and I’ll let you know as soon as she’s off her call.”
“Actually.” I took one step closer. “Would you happen to have an empty conference room?”
“Umm…sure. The one you’ll be meeting in is available. Did you need to make a call or something?”
I shook my head. “No. Ms. Sterling and I have some business to discuss. Do you think we could make use of that room before Ms. Barton is available?”
The receptionist smiled. “Sure. No problem.” She stood. “Why don’t you follow me, and I’ll let Elizabeth know where you’ll be when she’s done.”
Sophia seemed momentarily confused, so I took advantage, knowing once she regained her footing she wouldn’t voluntarily walk into a room with me. I put my hand low on her back and held out my other for her to walk first.
“After you…”
Her jaw clenched, but she wasn’t about to make a scene. That wasn’t Sophia’s style, at least not in the lobby in front of the receptionist. Though I had no doubt she’d ream me a new asshole once the conference room door clicked shut. So I’d have to keep her off her game, by jumping in before she had a chance.
We followed the receptionist into a long conference room. I was glad it wasn’t one of those fishbowl rooms that corporate America loved these days, where everything that went on inside was visible to anyone passing by.
“Are you sure I can’t get you coffees?” the receptionist asked from the door after we were both inside.
“No, thank you,” Sophia said.
“I’m good.” I smiled and motioned to the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to shut this.”
“Oh. Sure. Yeah. I’ll do that for you.” She grabbed the door handle and gently closed it behind her.
“Weston—” Sophia jumped right in.
But I cut her off. “I need thirty seconds. If you want, I’ll go wait in the lobby after that.” I had no idea how much time we had, or if we’d get a chance to talk again before we wrapped things up at The Countess, so I needed to say what I needed to say—and fast.
Sophia’s lips flattened to a grim line. She didn’t acknowledge granting me the thirty seconds, but I figured her not talking might be as good as I was going to get. So I paced back and forth, looking down at the floor, trying to choose the right words.
My ribs felt like a weight was sitting on them, squeezing the air from my lungs. And I knew exactly what that weight was. I had this moment to get everything off my chest.
Now or never.
Don’t be a chickenshit all your life.
So I took a deep breath and looked across the table, waiting for Sophia to look up. Eventually, the awkward silence tricked her into meeting my gaze, and I went for it.
Fuck it.
Go big or go home.
“I love you, Sophia. I don’t know when it started or if it even matters anymore. But I need you to know it.”
At first, I saw hope bloom in her eyes. They widened with surprise, and the slightest hint of a smile formed at the corners of her mouth. But just as quickly as that hope had blossomed, it wilted.
And I watched as she remembered.
Remembered how I’d fucked her over.
Remembered how she’s supposed to hate me.
Remembered how nothing I say should be trusted.
In the span of less than ten seconds, that slightest upturn at the corners of her mouth melted into a giant downturn, and her wide eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“You have no idea what love is.”
I shook my head. “You’re wrong. I might not know a lot of things—like how to have some balls when dealing with my family, or how to tell my grandfather no when he tells me to do something morally reprehensible, or even how to be in a relationship, because fuck knows I’ve never had a real-life role model of what a normal one is supposed to look like. But I absolutely, positively know that I’m in love with you. You know how?”
She didn’t answer. But she also didn’t tell me to stop.
So I kept going.
“I know I love you because for the five years since Caroline died, I have never wanted to be a better man. I’ve never once looked in the mirror and given a shit whether I liked what I saw. But every morning since you got on that plane and made me move out of that window seat, I’ve stared at myself, wondering what I could do today to be a better person—a better man who deserves a woman like you.
“I know I love you because my family would disown me for falling in love with you. And that doesn’t scare me half as much as you leaving this room without believing that my heart belongs to you more than it’s ever belonged to anyone.
“I know I love you because for my entire life I felt like I had no purpose except to be spare parts for my sister…until you.
“I know I love you because…” I shook my head and dragged a hand through my hair. “Because you are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known—and even that is an understatement.”
Sophia’s lips parted, and
tears welled in her eyes. I didn’t have to tell her I’d borrowed that one from F. Scott Fitzgerald instead of Shakespeare. A month ago, I’d searched for quotes to taunt her about her ex, but lately I’d started to enjoy reading them. So many reminded me of her, like that one.
I cleared my throat. “Soph, I fucked up. It’s not the way you think, but I realize it doesn’t matter if I intended to give my grandfather any information. I should have told you about it or not led him to believe I was playing his game. I didn’t have to violate your trust to lose it. Even the smallest lie can create the biggest damage.”
She sniffled. “I feel like an idiot for wanting to believe you.” She shook her head and looked down. “I just can’t, Weston. I can’t.”
“Soph, no. Don’t say that. Look at me.”
She kept shaking her head. When a tear leaked from her eye, she looked up at me and whispered, “Countess.”
My forehead wrinkled. Then I remembered I’d made her pick a safe word in case things got to be too much. She’d never said it until now. It felt like my heart was breaking in two.
Sophia walked to the conference room door. I went to reach for her, but she put her hand up, stopping me.
“Please don’t. I need to use the restroom.” Her voice was so soft and filled with emotion that it sliced through me. “Don’t follow me. Please let me be. You said what you wanted to say. I listened. I really did. And I want to be left alone now.”
I dropped my head and nodded. “Go. I don’t want to make you feel worse.”
Sophia didn’t come back for ten long minutes. When she did, I could tell she’d been crying. I felt like an idiot for making her upset right before a business meting. We were both quiet as we waited at the conference table. I stole glances at her while she avoided eye contact. When Elizabeth Barton eventually walked in, Sophia finally met my eyes.
I knew it was causing her pain to sit across the table from me, so I stood as Elizabeth took her seat. I’d gotten what I came for, and the rest of it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. The very least I could do was make Sophia feel a little lighter by not having to look at me.
I buttoned my jacket and cleared my throat. “Sorry, Elizabeth, but something’s come up, and I need to run.”
The attorney looked surprised. “I’m sorry. Should we reschedule?”
I looked over at Sophia. “No. You two go ahead. I’ll catch up with you at some point, if you have time.”
Elizabeth rightly looked confused. “Oh…okay. Well, why don’t you book a time on your way out with the receptionist and we’ll talk later.”
I gave a noncommittal nod. “Sure.”
***
Over the next forty-eight hours, I visited Mr. Thorne four times. It was either that or drink a bottle of vodka. I ignored phone calls from my grandfather and never did catch up with Elizabeth Barton to get the information I needed from her. Just about the only responsibility I didn’t blow off was dealing with the Boltons. The estimates and revised construction plans had come in, and I worked with Travis on cutting some things that would mean we’d still have a shot of finishing everything on time for the first event planned next month. It wasn’t that I gave a shit about the construction anymore than anything else, but Sophia was vulnerable, and I didn’t want her to spend any time with a man who had an interest in her. I might’ve fallen in love, but I was still a selfish prick.
Sophia and I passed each other in the halls. She did her best to avoid eye contact, while I did my best not to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness. The hours ticked by as the deadline to turn in our bids neared. In less than twenty-four hours, everything would be over. One of us would bring our family victory, while the other would never live down the loss. But most importantly, Sophia and I would no longer have any reason for contact. One of us would most certainly be asked to vacate the premises as a guest, and we’d go back to what we’d been for the last twelve years—people who saw each other occasionally at an event and stayed on the other side of the room.
The night before the day the bids were due, I couldn’t sleep. I’d emailed my final valuation for the hotel to my grandfather, along with my recommendation for the bid. He’d emailed back asking if I was certain the bid was higher than the Sterlings’. I’d told him it was, though I had no fucking clue.
At four thirty in the morning, I couldn’t lie in bed anymore, so I decided to go for a run. I usually ran three miles, but today I ran until my legs burned, and then I ran all the way back, relishing the agony each pounding step caused in my body.
The lobby coffee shop had already opened, so I grabbed a bottle of water and went and sat in a quiet corner where Sophia and I had sat before. A big painting of Grace Copeland hung nearby, and for the first time I took a good look at it.
“That was done from a snapshot taken on her fiftieth birthday,” a familiar voice said.
I looked over to find Louis, the hotel manager, admiring the painting with me. He pointed to the chair next to me. “Mind if I take a seat?”
“Not at all. Help yourself.”
We continued to look at the painting in silence, until eventually I asked, “You were with her from the very beginning, right?”
Louis nodded. “Almost. I worked the front desk when this place was a rundown jalopy. The years after she bought out Mr. Sterling and your grandfather were touch-and-go. There were weeks she couldn’t make payroll, but we were all so dedicated to Grace that we figured out how to survive.”
I looked back at the painting again. Grace Copeland had been a beautiful woman. “How come she never married after the broken engagement with old man Sterling? It couldn’t have been for a lack of opportunity.”
Louis shook his head. “There were definitely plenty of suitors interested in Grace. And she dated a bit. But I think her broken heart never really mended. She learned to live with it in pieces, and occasionally she gave out a sliver or two, but she felt strongly that you only committed to a person when they had your full heart.”
I looked back at Louis. “You’re married, right?”
He smiled. “Forty-three years. Some mornings I can’t wait to get out of the house to get a little break from my Agnes. She tends to talk a lot, and mostly about other people’s business. But every night, I can’t wait to get home to her.”
“So do you think it’s true?”
His brows furrowed. “What’s that?”
“Do you believe if someone takes your heart, you won’t be able to love the same way after that?”
Louis thought for a moment. “I think some people get inside our hearts and stay, even long after they physically leave.”
***
My phone rang at ten after nine. The number wasn’t familiar, but I had a feeling I knew who it was.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Lockwood?”
“Yes.”
“This is Otto Potter.”
I leaned back into my chair. “I figured I might be hearing from you.”
“Well, I just wanted to make sure that what I received on your bid form was correct.”
I took a deep breath and blew it out. “It is. What’s written there is my bid on behalf of the Lockwood family.”
“And you’re aware that this isn’t a round-robin-type bidding process. It’s a one shot, best bid offer.”
I swallowed. “I am.”
“Alright, then. We’ll be back in touch soon.”
After I hung up, I closed my eyes, expecting panic to set in. Surprisingly, it didn’t. Instead, I felt eerily calm. Maybe for the first time in a long time—or maybe for the first time ever.
Chapter 28
* * *
Sophia
“Well, congratulations again, Sophia.” Elizabeth Barton extended her hand as we stood from the conference room table.
“Thank you.” I managed to force out an acceptable smile.
Seven days had passed since I’d received the call that I’d won the bid for my family, yet it still felt like I’d lost t
he war. My father had flown in to take me out to dinner to celebrate without Spencer, and my grandfather had offered me a position overseeing our family’s entire west coast hotel operation, the largest region we had. Everything was falling into place, yet I’d never felt so empty inside. The reason for that was obvious.
“Will you be staying on to manage The Countess?” Elizabeth asked.
“I’m not sure yet. There’s a position open on the west coast, but I haven’t made up my mind where I’ll land.”
She nodded. “Well, I’ll keep in touch until you tell me otherwise.”
“Thank you.”
Elizabeth extended a hand to Otto Potter. “It was nice meeting you, Otto. I wish you the best of luck with Easy Feet.”
“Considering the check you just handed me, I think Easy Feet will be walking on Easy Street for a while.”
She smiled. “Are you heading back uptown? Want to share a cab?”
Otto shook his head. “Actually, I’m going to hang around here for a bit.”
The two shook, and then it was just Otto and me left. He smiled warmly. “I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment, if you have time.”
I extended a hand back to our seats. “Sure. I have plenty of time.”
After we settled in, Otto took a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. He slid it across the table to my side. “The terms of the bidding were confidential. But I figured now that the papers are all signed, and you’re the majority shareholder of The Countess, there’s no harm in sharing the bid I received from the Lockwoods.”
I picked up the paper and skimmed it. It was the same offer form I’d signed to submit my family’s bid, only this one had $1.00 filled in the spot where the bid amount was to go. My eyes scanned down to the bottom to check the signature. Sure enough, none other than Weston Lockwood had signed it.
