Someone Like You

by Brittney Sahin

  I look back and forth between them, my heartbeat elevating as I try to pick up on their unspoken communication.

  “We won’t let you throw away your life for a man like him. And if you really do care about him, then choose his happiness over being with him.” Mom stands in front of me and reaches for my hands, but I retract them and step back.

  “What are you trying to say?” I ask.

  But Dad answers, “We can make his life hell if we have to.”

  I hold up a hand, wanting him to stop, but I know he won’t. He’s got the knife stuck in my chest, and he’s going to do this slowly, painfully. He wants this to hurt.

  “We’ll have his company blacklisted. He’ll never get another job in Manhattan,” Dad says.

  I take a shallow breath as my hands go back to my stomach as if it’s going to fold in on itself and I’m going to be sick. “No.” I shake my head. “You don’t have that kind of power.”

  “Do you want to test us?” Dad lifts a brow. “And that daughter of his…you’re guaranteeing he won’t get custody if you keep seeing him.”

  Those words are the final blow.

  “No!” I go straight to him and press my hands against his chest. “No, please.”

  “Cade’s friends with the judge who’ll be hearing Noah’s case. What fucking luck.” Dad grips my wrists and pushes my hands off his chest.

  My lips part in surprise. I didn’t know a date had been set—but I haven’t heard from Noah, so…

  I back away from Dad and face my brother, needing to focus on the big issue at hand—Noah’s daughter.

  “You wouldn’t, would you?” I ask Cade, my voice pleading.

  Cade tucks his hands in his slacks pockets, his jaw clenched, his head bowed—he won’t look at me.

  “You can’t do that to him. He loves his daughter more than anything. Please.” My voice breaks, tears pooling in my eyes at the thought of Noah losing Lily.

  I’ll do anything I can to prevent that from happening.

  Anything.

  “And if you think you can stay away from him until after the court hearing just to go back to him…that won’t fly,” Dad warns.

  I don’t know if there is even a “Noah and me” or if there ever will be, but how can I find out now?

  My mom’s fingers wrap over my shoulder, giving me chills. “It’s time you start owning your name and who you are. It’s your turn to make sacrifices for the family, for the company.”

  Like Cade…

  “I won’t marry Patrick.” I jerk my body free of her touch. “Cade, please, don’t let them do this to me.” I start his way.

  He finally looks at me, his eyes cold like his heart. “I have a meeting to get to.”

  My gaze follows his back as he exits my office, leaving me alone with two people I barely know or recognize anymore. His acceptance of what’s happening to me is almost unbearable.

  “Your engagement was announced in the Times this morning.” Mom grabs her phone from her purse and taps at it.

  I don’t have to ask what she’s doing. I already know. She’s showing me proof of the betrayal—of my supposed sacrifice.

  I should be in shock, but did I ever truly believe I could have more than a taste of freedom?

  No. I’ve always known how this would go down. This shouldn’t be a surprise.

  But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m close to throwing up on my mother’s shoes, or maybe in her Louis bag. Pressure is increasing in my temples, and I’m sweating in my cleavage—hell, everywhere.

  “We’ll have a celebratory dinner. Maybe you’ll come around to the idea eventually.” Mom holds the phone in front of me—my engagement to Patrick is already trending on social media. “Don’t forget, Patrick’s family is a big deal in London.”

  How can she be so cavalier about this? They just threatened to hurt the man I…

  “Only sixteen people have to die before Patrick’s dad gets a shot to rule England,” she adds.

  “Good luck with that,” I say under my breath, my body aching—the pain blinding. “Actually, I wouldn’t put it past the Piersons to try to knock everyone off, including the Queen herself, to make it happen.” But who’s worse: them or my parents for blackmailing me into this?

  “They’re already dubbing this as a royal New York wedding.” God, she almost looks happy. She’s acting as though this marriage will happen.

  “We’ll be dining at our house with the Piersons a week from today. If you don’t show, then Noah—” Dad begins.

  I hold up my hand, begging him not to say anymore. I can’t stomach the threats—not about Lily.

  “Make Dalton believe you. I don’t want him thinking he has a chance and coming back around,” Dad says before he disappears from my office, leaving me alone with Mom.

  I go to my chair and drop into it in a daze.

  “You’re making the right choice. In time, you’ll be as happy as Cade,” she says.

  Happy as Cade?

  Happy as Cade…

  Oh God.

  21

  Noah

  “More coffee?” Jessica extends another mug my way.

  “Nah. I think I’d better get going.”

  “And where are you going?” she asks as Luke comes into the kitchen.

  He yawns and scratches the back of his head, squeezing his eyes a little as if waking up.

  “You always sleep this late? What happened to you?” I catch Luke’s eyes, happy to give the man a hard time since he’s been poking and prodding me for the last few days.

  Shit, it’s already Friday.

  “Don’t tell me you’re still doing five o’clock drills.” He grabs the full cup of coffee from Jessica and lifts it to his mouth.

  “Not this week, but yeah, normally.” I stand and crack my neck. I haven’t worked out in a while, and my body is protesting.

  “So where are you going?” Jess asks again as she sits up on top of the kitchen island and bites into a croissant.

  “Grace’s.”

  I disappeared with only a lame text, and Grace is probably pissed. But it’s taken some time for me to wrap my head around the blow Cindy delivered. I mean, somewhere deep down inside me, I always suspected Lily might not be my blood, but she’ll always be mine—that will never change.

  It still fucking hurts, though.

  The truth hurts.

  “You know, Luke kind of warned Grace to stay away from you.” Jessica takes another bite before she dusts crumbs off her lap and onto the floor.

  I turn to look at Luke, who shrugs before sliding into a chair at the table. “I was worried about you, man. I didn’t want another woman screwing with your head.”

  “She’s not like that, but thanks for the concern. Remind me to interfere in your love life next time I’m down in Nashville,” I say.

  “Love life?” Jessica grins.

  We haven’t done much joking around since Luke came. I’ve been doing my best to simply hang on to my sanity, but I’m finally feeling like myself again, and all I want to do is see Grace.

  I have to assume that means something.

  “Hey, before I fly out tonight, I wanted to let you know I heard back from my contact about the thing we were discussing last night.” Luke looks at his sister before his eyes dart back to mine.

  “The thing?” Jessica laughs. “Please tell me you’re not talking about a penis.”

  “Jesus Christ, Jess, I don’t want to hear that word coming from you.” Luke leans back in the chair and folds his arms.

  “Well?” I cock my head, waiting, my heart rate kicks up a few notches.

  “It can be done.” He lets out a deep breath. “You sure about this? It’s a little different.”

  “I have zero doubts, but if I need to handle it myself, then I—”

  “No, no, I’ve got it covered. I just wanted to double-check with you,” Luke says as Jessica looks back and forth between us.

  She shoves off the counter. “You care to enlighten me?�
��

  Luke shakes his head. “No.”

  “Jerk,” she mumbles as her phone pings incessantly.

  “Damn, who’s blowing up your cell?” Luke gets up.

  Jessica’s brows furrow and she swipes at her screen, tugging her lip between her teeth while tapping on her smartphone.

  “What is it?” Luke asks.

  “It can’t be true,” she says a moment later before offering me the phone. “People are texting me asking if I knew about it…”

  “About what?” I look at the screen—at the headline: Manhattan Millionaire Heiress Grace Parker-King and Lord Patrick Pierson of London to be wed.

  As I step back, trying to figure out what the hell I just read, Luke takes the phone. “It has to be a mistake,” I mumble.

  “Probably. I didn’t even see any pictures of them together. All split-screen shots,” Jessica notes.

  “I’ve gotta go to talk to her,” I say.

  “You want me to come with you?” Luke asks.

  “No, I’m good.”

  I clean up, hurry out of Jessica’s loft, and hail a taxi.

  Grace isn’t at the hotel anymore because I finally talked to my sister yesterday about everything—and in between her yelling about Cindy, she mentioned Grace was back at her own place. I screwed up the reveal Bella was so excited about, but at least she gave me a pass, given what happened this week.

  I make my way to Grace’s loft, but after three rings and no answer, she either doesn’t want to talk to me, or she’s at work.

  Can I go to her office, though? Would that be officially crossing the line?

  Shit, I’m pretty sure we crossed the line the moment we created it.

  I think about her brother Cade—a run-in with him wouldn’t go so well, but I don’t want to wait until tonight to talk to her. I need to see her, to hear from her that the engagement is only a rumor.

  Of course, I don’t hold any claim on her, but there’s no way in hell she’d up and marry that asshole. No goddamn way.

  After another cab ride, which takes forever in the traffic, I find myself standing in front of the tall glass skyscraper that holds her company—I checked my phone while in the taxi. Her office is on the thirtieth floor.

  I don’t even know if I’ll be allowed up.

  I eye the security guards in the lobby and start past them toward the elevators, but they’re busy talking with people and don’t say anything. Maybe I’m in the clear.

  I wait impatiently on the trek up to her floor, and when the doors open, I’m greeted by more security. I figured it wouldn’t be that easy.

  “Can I help you?” the man asks while looking up from his computer screen.

  “I’m here to see Grace.”

  “Miss King?”

  Maybe she prefers only to use her last-last name. I know how much she hates the hyphen. She’s joked around a few times about being anxious to marry if only to get rid of her name.

  And some part of me has wanted to say, “Dalton would sound nice.”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Is she expecting you?” He drags his gaze from my sneakers up to my graphic tee. It’s Luke’s shirt since I haven’t been back to my boat.

  “Yes, she is,” I lie, hoping she’ll be available and have my back.

  He lifts the phone, but I can tell he’s not buying it. I guess Grace doesn’t get many visitors dressed like me.

  “Dalton?”

  I look over the shoulder of the guard and see Corbin—the good brother.

  “What are you doing here?” His eyes narrow in surprise as he heads my way. He’s in similar clothes to me, which catches me off guard. I guess Grace wasn’t joking about him being a hell of a lot different than Cade.

  “I need to talk to Grace.”

  Corbin nods at the guard. “I’ll take him.”

  “Yes, sir.” The guard smiles.

  “You know better than to address me like that, Jimmy.” Corbin grins. “Oh, and I got you tickets to the Mets game next weekend. Remind me to get them to you.”

  “Aww, thanks, man, my son will be so excited.”

  Corbin fist-bumps the guard before redirecting his attention my way as we walk down a hall. “Does she know you’re coming?”

  “No.”

  “I’d make it quick then. If my family sees you around here, it won’t be good. Sorry, man.” He clears his throat. “Next door on the left, and good luck.”

  Do I need luck?

  I stop in front of her closed door once Corbin is out of sight, then I knock.

  “Come in,” she calls.

  I slowly open the door and find her standing in front of a window overlooking the city, her back to me. She’s in a black dress and red heels. I remember the first night I met her—Miss Fourth of July.

  I look at the massive desk then take in the size of the room—it’s a hell of a lot more spacious than my boat. “Hi.”

  Her shoulders flinch, and she swivels on her heel to face me, her lips parting. “What are you doing here?” She looks behind me. “Um, could you close the door?”

  “I shouldn’t have come. Sorry. But we need to talk.” I follow her request and shut the door, but she remains by the window, not moving an inch.

  “How’d it go on Tuesday? I’ve been worried about you.”

  I want to talk about that, I do, but I need to get this engagement issue straightened up first. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve had a shit week.”

  She looks at the floor.

  “But what about you?” I take a few steps closer, but I don’t quite close the gap. “Tell me you’re not actually engaged to that guy.”

  Just saying it sounds ridiculous. I’m waiting for her to laugh and wave dismissively—but she doesn’t.

  Her gaze skates up to my face, and she swallows. “I don’t have a choice.”

  “What?” I’m in front of her almost immediately, reaching for her forearms, but she steps back, bumping into the window.

  What the hell is going on?

  I drop my arms like dead weights. “It’s true? I was with you Tuesday morning before the lawyers. What happened between then and now that has you marrying that guy?” Mr. Armani from the first night we met…

  “I can’t explain.” She closes her eyes. “This thing between us is over, Noah.” She can’t even look at me when she says it.

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “This engagement isn’t what I want, and you know it.” She finally peers at me.

  I shake my head, confused. “Then why are you doing it?”

  “It’s complicated.” She starts to turn away, but I stop her.

  “Is it about your family? They’re forcing you into this?” I keep my hand wrapped around her bicep.

  “They’re not giving me an option. Please, don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

  “I don’t accept that.” Jesus. I release my grip and step back, raking my hands through my hair, trying to make sense of this. “You can’t marry that guy. You can make your own choices in life—remember?”

  We’ve talked about this before. I thought she finally accepted she can control her life. What changed since I last saw her? I shouldn’t have ever disappeared. This is my fault.

  “You need to accept it,” she says in a broken voice, a slight sheen over her light blue eyes. “Please.”

  “What about us?” I need to reason with her, to get her to remember who she is.

  “What us? There is no us. It was always sex,” she says with a strained voice.

  “So we’re lying to each other now?” I turn away and catch sight of Cade in the hall outside the door—he’s observing us through the narrow window at the side.

  “We were always lying to each other.”

  Her words are like a hot lash to my skin.

  “I don’t buy it, Grace.” I face her again, but her eyes are directed across the room to where Cade’s standing. “I’ll fight for you. I’ll stand up to your family with you. Just give me
the word.”

  I didn’t know I was capable of handling something this intense right now, after what’s happened this week, but I can’t imagine losing her—not like this. I need more time to see if anything can ever happen between us.

  “I can’t…I’m sorry. The decision’s been made. I’m marrying Patrick.” There’s an obvious tremble to her voice as if she might cry, and yet she’s speaking about her life as if it’s a business deal.

  “No.”

  I don’t give a damn her brother is out there. I cup her face with both hands. She bites her lip as she traps me with her gaze.

  “Tell me you don’t want me.” I edge my face closer to hers. “Tell me you don’t want to fight for this.” Both palms rest on her cheeks as my mouth finds hers.

  She kisses me back, her fingertips burying into my shoulder blades as I deepen the kiss.

  When I finally step back, she’s slightly breathless, and her lips twist at the edges. She bows her head and places her hand over her mouth.

  But when she looks back up at me, I see the pain in her eyes—and I see the answer to my question on her face.

  “I’m sorry, Noah. But we were fooling each other to think this could ever be more.” She sniffles. “You and I both know I could never be with someone like you,” she says so low I barely hear her.

  I back up, swiping a hand down my face and over the light beard I now have.

  She turns and goes back to the window then raises her palm to the glass as her forehead rests against it.

  I don’t know what else to say. Maybe I always knew this day was coming. This day was supposed to come. That was the deal. But somewhere in that time, I started to believe it was possible for us to be together.

  I was wrong.

  “Goodbye, Grace.” My chest is tight, and the blood rushes to my ears as I exhale a breath and go to the door.

  “I’m sorry,” she cries, but I don’t respond.

  I can’t respond. I can’t be with another woman who won’t fight for us. I can’t be the only one in it.

  First Cindy and now Grace.

  I’m fucking done.

  22

  Noah

  I stuff my clothes into a box with a little more force than necessary, cramming everything as far down as it can go to save room. Plus, I need to take my anger out on something after seeing Grace yesterday. I’ve bounced back and forth between anger and—no…just anger. I don’t know how else to feel. Angry at her for surrendering to her family and pissed at myself for ever allowing anything to start with her.