I stood before him. My father. My flesh and blood. I battled between my anger and my compassion. I was his only lifeline.
I had to decide, now or never.
“Dad.”
He made a small sound of acknowledgement but didn’t look up.
“Dad, look at me.”
He lifted his gaze.
“What’s the most important thing in your life?”
He blinked, his eyes sadder than I’d ever seen them. “You, Will. After things fell apart with your mother, all I had was you. Nothing’s changed.”
“Swear to me that the fund is clean.”
He nodded, his jaw tight. “I checked everything myself. I took the kickbacks, Will. I don’t deny it. But Reilly was making a career out of it. I knew what he was doing, and I warned him to slow it down. He was getting too greedy. Then he brought the nonprofit on as an accredited investor, and I got worried. I made Adriana check every exchange, every source. It’s clean.”
I wanted to believe him, but I had to be certain.
“You know I don’t care about the money. Nothing you can say will change that. I know it’s important to you, but something has to mean more to you than the fucking money. If it’s me, you have to swear on me that the fund is without a doubt clean. Because if I do this for you and I find out that it’s not, we’re finished. I mean it.”
His expression was blank, like he was facing the ultimate truth. “It’s clean, son.”
The door buzzed and broke the moment. He rose slowly, and a few seconds later, he was walking into the room with a tall, dark-haired man with light-brown eyes, dressed in an expensive suit.
“Frank, I’d like to introduce you to my son, Will Donovan. Will, this is Frank Bridge.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Bill, we definitely need to talk, but I’d like a word with your son.”
My father looked between us, confusion written on his features.
I cleared my throat. “Why don’t we get some fresh air on the terrace? Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Scotch?”
“I’m good,” he said.
I nodded and gestured toward the outdoor space that would give us privacy. I glanced back at my father and shook my head imperceptibly, communicating without words. He held his place inside. This was on me now.
Outside, New York City sprawled.
Frank scanned the cityscape on the horizon before looking back at me. “My wife tells me you’re involved with Olivia now.”
“To be fair, I’ve been involved with Cameron and Darren for months.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, Will, but your investment in their small business doesn’t concern me as much as your personal interest in my only daughter.”
“I understand.”
His smile was tight. “Then you’ll also understand why I don’t want her anywhere near you or the trouble surrounding your father and his associates.”
“Let’s talk about that for a minute. Dad just informed me that you were an investor.”
“I am. It was a delicate situation, and it seemed worth it at the time. Obviously circumstances have changed for Reilly since his pitch. But being involved with him after what he pulled with the charity looks bad for me. I have my own investors and reputation to consider.”
Our business reeked of trouble, and it would get worse before it got better. I could pretend it wouldn’t and hope for better results, or I could be up front with him. Frank Bridge wasn’t the only investor I had to convince of giving us a second chance.
“My father is being indicted along with the others.”
He stilled. “You’re certain.”
“The lawyer just called this morning. It’ll be public by the five o’clock news.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I’m telling you because I want you to know that I think what my father and his associates did was deplorable. I’ve managed to stay pretty far away from his affairs, but I never imagined any one of his ventures would come to this. That said, I believe the fund is clean. You know as well as I do that it’s been successful, even in this short time. I’d like to see it have a fighting chance.”
He laughed and turned to face the city. “Let me guess. You’re going to try to talk me into keeping my money with Reilly Donovan Capital and convince me that you’re worthy of my daughter.”
“I’m going to take over the fund.” The words slammed down on me as I said them aloud. Was I really going through with this? God, my father owed me everything for doing this…
He glanced at me sidelong. “That’s risky business.”
“Obviously we need fresh leadership. Let me prove that we can be a fund you trust before you make a decision.”
“How about you keep my million, and you walk away from Olivia. If you care for her, you’ll understand why that’s the best thing.”
The prospect of leaving Olivia was gut-wrenching. I wouldn’t walk away, not unless she wanted me to. Even then, I’m not sure I could bring myself to let her go.
I was falling in love with the woman, and no amount of money was worth giving her up. Maybe I was too cocky for my own good, but I wasn’t going to let someone push me out of the way, either. She was worth fighting for, and I had every intention of doing that. It wouldn’t save the reputation of this venture, but businesses could be rebuilt. I’d never find someone like her again.
“You’re her father. She loves you, and I know she respects you. But she’s a grown woman, and she’s going to do whatever she wants to do. I can’t stop her any more than you can.”
“When you’re one half of the equation, you can. Just walk away. People do it every day.”
“I’m not going to walk away from her. Not for a million dollars, not for ten.”
He narrowed his eyes and moved his lips to speak, but I cut him off.
“Before you threaten me, think about this for a minute. I’m in love with her, and even the promise of certain ruin wouldn’t get me to back down right now. So let’s say, for argument’s sake, that there’s nothing you can do about Olivia and me. If you’re really worried about her being associated with me, help me spin this the right way. I don’t want this job, but I’m taking it because I believe the fund has a future. I don’t want to see this fail, and if you stand with me, it won’t.”
“You want me to vouch for you so you don’t lose investors.”
“Yes.”
Bridge had been a major player back in the day. He’d gone into private investing over a decade ago, but his connections ran deep. Having him on my side wouldn’t fix everything, but it would be a step in the right direction of repairing this goddamn mess.
He shook his head. “It’s not a bad plan, but it’s not enough. When this hits the news, your investors are going to walk. No doubt about it.”
“We have a lock-up period. I have six months to prove myself.”
“That’s not as long as you might think.”
I paced the terrace. The sounds of traffic floated up. This city was chaos sometimes. Thrilling and intoxicating. Crushing and sobering. All I ever knew was that life could turn on a dime.
“Reilly is your problem,” he said.
I turned and met Frank’s stare.
“You can’t just step in front of them and expect people to forget what they did,” he continued. “If you want to instill confidence and keep this together, you need to do something drastic.”
“Like what?”
“Reorganize. Buy your dad’s shares. Cut Reilly out.” The words came quickly, but his advice was anything but simple.
“They’re the only shareholders.”
He shrugged. “If you can’t figure it out, you shouldn’t be running the fund. If you have no stake, why should I trust you with my money?”
I clenched my jaw tight. He made a point, even if it stung. Taking over full ownership was never in the plans, though. My brain was scrambling to come up with a scenario that would work. Even if I was able to
oust the owners, my father included, Frank hadn’t exactly given his blessing when it came to my relationship with his daughter.
“What about Olivia?”
He walked toward me, his expression impassive.
“You’ve got thirty days to impress me, Will. And if she suffers from any of this, trust that there will be consequences.”
I wasn’t in the habit of tolerating threats, but threatening someone to protect Olivia wasn’t beneath me either. I didn’t reply as Frank left the terrace. I watched through the sliding doors as he shook my father’s hand and swiftly disappeared. A few minutes later, my father joined me.
“What happened?”
“We need to talk,” I said.
IAN
Darren was checking the engine when I joined him. The stalls were open, and fresh air blew in from the street. Early fall was in the air, cool and dry, promising an imminent change in the seasons. We worked over the truck, checking that everything was stocked and in place for the inevitable emergencies that would call us out over the course of the day.
“Vanessa’s doing an open mic tonight. You want to come? I’ll buy you a beer.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, man. I’ve got plans though.”
“Hot date?” He winked.
I laughed nervously as Darren waited for an answer. “Something like that.”
I hadn’t seen Liv in a few days, and that wasn’t sitting well with me. I’d never cared this much before. The chase and the satisfaction of getting a girl into bed—all of that usually went away as soon as I got what I wanted. Not with Olivia. Every day that went by without seeing her felt a little more perilous, like I could lose her. And I wasn’t ready to lose her.
After our last night together, I figured Will would keep her close, but he’d been scarce too. When he wasn’t putting hours in at the renovation, he was commuting to his father’s office downtown. He’d agreed to take over where his father left off, but he didn’t seem any happier for it. I had no idea where that left things between him and Liv, but I was done waiting. She’d agreed to meet me at the studio after my shift. I’d been counting down the hours until then.
Darren closed down a side compartment and moved to the next one. “You ever going to get serious about someone?”
I shrugged. “Maybe one day.”
I’d fucked around for so long, though, I had a hard time imagining it. Dad used to ask me when I was going to bring a girl home to meet the family. I’d brushed him off, figuring I had time. Then he died, and something inside me broke. I was angry, and all I wanted to do was bury that anger. I didn’t take women home for the pure fun of it anymore. I took women home to forget, to feel something intense just long enough without needing to open up to anyone. Then I could walk away and try to work the rest of it out on my own.
Will was my insurance policy that made sure nothing serious ever took root. Because once someone shared a bed with the two of us, any potential for a real relationship dissolved. I tried to remember that when the need to see Liv gnawed at me, but being with her wasn’t fitting into any of those neat little boxes.
“Who’ve you got plans with?”
I hesitated, running my palm over my scalp. What the hell could I say to that?
“What’s going on, Savo? You seeing someone?”
“Sort of.” I frowned, because I had no idea how to describe the situation with Liv, even in the vaguest terms. This felt like the most dangerous conversation I’d ever had in my life.
He let out a short laugh. “No shit? Tell me about her.”
“I don’t know. She’s…amazing. Basically fucking perfect. But I don’t know where it’s going. I’m not really in the right place to be the guy she needs.” Jesus, I was rambling, but Darren’s smile just got wider.
“Sounds pretty familiar, actually.”
I shook my head. “Nah, it’s complicated.”
He had no idea.
Darren had done a complete one-eighty when he met Vanessa. For years he’d been my wingman, my go-to guy long before I’d run into Will. One week on an island with Vanessa, and Darren was a goner. I didn’t recognize him. I’d hated to watch him torture himself through the ups and downs, but he seemed happier now than he ever had doing the bar scene with me.
I refused to believe anything like that could be possible for me.
I tried to get back to work, but Darren wouldn’t let up.
“Do you care about her?”
My stomach seemed to drop out when I considered that. Never mind I was talking about my “feelings” for Olivia with her fucking brother. I’d taken feelings out of every hookup I’d had for years. But when I thought about Olivia, about how she responded under my touch, the way she seemed to seep under my skin, body and soul—that was a feeling I couldn’t deny.
“I do care about her. But even saying that sounds idiotic.”
Darren stopped what he was doing and leaned against the truck. “What do you have to lose, man?”
What did I have to lose? An uncomplicated lifestyle that I could rely on while I worked out the rest of my shit.
“I like to keep things simple. Straightforward. I don’t really have time for anything else.”
“You don’t have time because you’re too busy wasting it with a bunch of people you’re never going to settle down with. If this girl is different, you should be focusing on her and seeing where it can go.”
I widened my eyes. “Who said anything about settling down? For fuck’s sake, Bridge. We’re not all waiting to be you, Mr. Domestic Bliss.”
He laughed and slapped my arm. “Don’t knock it till you try it. Happier than ever.”
I shook my head and shoved him off with a laugh. We wrapped up and returned to the kitchen, where the other guys on our crew still lingered with their coffees. I could almost guarantee Darren wouldn’t be grilling me on relationships in the present company, so for now I was safe.
Because if Darren ever found out I was sleeping with his sister, our friendship would be anything but safe.
Chapter Eleven
OLIVIA
The studio was almost unrecognizable from the last time I’d seen it. The space had been aired out. All the surfaces had been dusted and cleaned. The mountains of boxes that had lined the walls were stacked in the hallway before I entered. The concrete floor was smooth and had been painted white.
“I like what you’ve done with the place.” My tone was teasing, but I had a feeling this fresh start was an important milestone for Ian.
He hadn’t opened up to me about the details, but the pain Ian carried from his father’s death radiated off him at times. So did his passion, his hunger for me. Whatever was at the source of it, a potent energy drew me to him, to soothe, to feel, to feed…
My heart sped up when he was near, and I couldn’t blame it all on the physical chemistry that pulsed between us. I ached for his presence, his tenderness. On the outside, he was perfection—tall, gorgeous, and strapped with muscle. On the inside, he was gentle and more thoughtful than I had ever imagined. Those stormy gray eyes could see right into me at times, as if he knew parts of me that I barely knew myself.
“I think you’re going to like it even more soon.” He moved across the room, systematically relocating several gallon-sized cans from the perimeter of the room to the center, two in each hand, his biceps flexing with the effort. He straightened and walked toward me, a secretive glimmer in his eyes. “I’ve been paying the rent on this place for months, but I hadn’t decided whether I should keep it or not. When you walked in here the other day, I knew I had to.”
I scanned the room again, admiring the vibrant work that decorated the wall, imagining the countless hours that had gone into their conception inside these walls. “It’s a great place to create.”
“It will be. But it’s been little more than a shrine, and that’s why I couldn’t set foot in here for so long. It’s time to change a few things.”
I lifted my chin toward the center of the room. “Y
ou painting?”
He grinned slowly. “No, you are. This place needs some color.”
I glanced around at the walls.
“The floor,” he said.
I frowned and met his gaze. “The floor?”
“I’ve got all the colors. Trays for mixing. A dozen brushes. I want you to make it yours. Do whatever you want. Picasso, Pollack. Do your thing.”
My pulse raced, not because of the intoxicating effect he usually had on me, but because I hadn’t picked up a brush in…years. I swallowed over the knot in my throat and tucked my hands into my jeans.
“But I don’t have a plan or anything. I’d need time to come up with something.”
He shook his head, undeterred. “You don’t need one. Just do whatever you feel like. Right now.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sure I don’t need to point out that this is a huge canvas.”
He circled his arm behind me and ushered me to the center of the room. I walked stiffly, keeping my hands stuffed safely in my pockets. I stared at the clean white floor, trying to catch up with what he was asking of me.
“You can do this. Want me to help get you started?”
I nodded without making eye contact. I needed all the help I could get right now.
“All right. Pick a color.”
I stared down at the gallons of paint. Could I really not even pick out a color? I glanced up at Ian, who was waiting for my answer.
“What’s your favorite color?” I asked.
He laughed softly. “Blue.” Without asking, he knelt down, popped the top of the can open, and handed me a brush.
I took it, though it felt foreign in my hands. I stood frozen in place while he opened the rest. Every color in the rainbow was set before me. Still, I couldn’t move. Seconds passed in awkward silence while I contemplated my next move.
“What’s wrong?”
I gnawed on the inside of my cheek because I couldn’t put it into words. Maybe I wasn’t ready. Maybe I never would be.
This place meant so much to Ian, and here I was, challenged to put my imprint on it. I felt beyond unworthy for the task.
Over the Edge: The Bridge Series: Book Three Page 12
