I slide an arm around her waist, my eyes lingering on her teeth, her lips, her blond hair framing a face that’s too easy to feel too much about.
“With a smile like yours, call me whatever you want.”
She leans closer and kisses my cheek. I watch her head bend to the cinnamon-perfume drink in her cup and her eyes fall on my neck.
“Okay. What’s the deal with the ties? I have to know.”
I laugh, shifting on the bench.
“It’s just an old tradition my grandparents started.”
“Oh? I’ve never seen Beatrice wear a tie.”
“When I was ten, they made me go to this glitzy charity gala with them. Grandma bought my first tie for that event. She insisted it had to match my eyes. Since then, every year after that, my grandparents bought me a new tie in the right length. Grandpa swore they were good luck. I think I started to believe in it somewhere along the way. Mostly, it’s just happy nostalgia. It reminds me of them and makes me feel like Grandpa’s still with me.”
Her face softens. “How long has he been gone?”
“Almost seven years. It’s been rough.”
She rests her hand on my knee. “I bet. But what did that woman mean about all the bad luck your family has?” She turns her head away from me and looks straight ahead. “Brina and I searched around, I mean. Everything we found was kind of wild, but...there were so many articles. It could still be tabloid trash.”
My shoulders slump like a condemned man.
No point in pretending I don’t know what she’s talking about.
Paige deserves the truth. She linked her trust, her reputation, to mine with this desperate arrangement, after all.
“I’m not sure what you found, but it’s probably all true. My parents are both selfish people from rich families. Dad never appreciated the blood, sweat, and tears my grandparents put into building the firm, and Mom was no better. She was a senator’s daughter. The senator filed for bankruptcy after losing his seat and having the SEC come down like a ton of bricks for insider trading. She had to find a way to maintain her lifestyle. Dad was her answer, a man with plenty of money and unlimited greed.”
My temples throb, so many shitty moments flooding back.
“That’s interesting. Did your dad want to be a politician?”
I scoff. “My dad doesn’t want to be anything but wealthy, a playboy, and an idiot. Yes, in that order. He liked being connected to a powerful family and offered my mother plenty of money. It was a done deal.”
Her eyes go wide when she meets my gaze.
“A deal. Like ours?”
Fuck, don’t remind me.
For one, arrangements founded on anything but love expire, and so will this. More than that, I don’t want to be anything like my father, yet here I am with this angel staring at me like we’re more than a pretense.
I swallow.
“Their arrangement was supposed to be more permanent, but it was all about fast money and ladder climbing. Mom turned into a huge alcoholic by the time I was seven. She hardly talked to me, and she lurched between babying Nick and treating him like crap.” I take a deep breath.
“Oh, God. Ward, I’m sorry,” she whispers, rubbing my shoulder.
“I’d might as well tell you the rest. Dad drained the last of his trust fund money and used it to start a Ponzi scheme. Then the shit hit the fan and people came after him. He used his lawyers to extricate himself from any wrongdoing. He worked for the firm a few years after that. Mostly stood around talking and acting like a major asshole. Employees said he bothered them while they were working—especially the women—so he left when Grandma made him.”
“Horrible,” she whispers, shaking her head.
“And not the end of it. He tried his hand at Vegas next. Turns out, he doesn’t have a poker face, so that resulted in huge gambling losses. My grandpa paid off the bookies because the whole family started getting death threats.”
“Holy crap. Wow. I’m so sorry you had to go through that...”
I put my hand over hers on my leg.
“I think my parents—well, all of us—finally hit rock bottom with the Parnell incident.” For a moment, I’m quiet, hating the fact that I have to rip myself open for her sake.
Her fingers massage my shoulder, crawl down my arm, and wait until I’m good and ready.
“Everyone on the yacht was drunk and high. Mom said Dad steered.