Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
“We did it. He wired the final two hundred and fifty million we needed for the NFL buyout while he was here. It’s done.”
Shouts of joy explode all over in the room and they are loud and plentiful. When we all come down enough to speak, I breathe out, “Now I’ve earned my keep.”
Mia laughs and rushes around the desk to hug me. “Honey, you earned your keep the minute you walked in the door.” She’s become a good friend, the kind I didn’t make time for in Denver. The kind I needed and didn’t even realize how much.
“You earned more than your keep,” Grayson offers, while Mia releases me, and Eric settles his arm around my shoulders. “One percent of the profits,” he adds. “Your one percent. Not Eric’s. He already gets his share.”
I’m stunned, unable to fathom how much money that might be, when I shouldn’t be. I’ve seen who Grayson is up close these past couple of months. “You’re generous as always. Thank you, Grayson.”
“Very generous,” Eric says. “It’s a lot of money, but it’s not about the money, now is it.” He glances down at me. “It’s about your freedom.”
I instantly know what he means. It’s a part of the many things we lay awake and talk about often well into the wee hours. I’ve always had dreams and aspirations that I do not want to be swallowed by Eric’s money and power, any more than I want him to believe I’m with him for those things. As I’ve told him, if he knows I could walk away at any moment, he knows I choose to stay.
“Go celebrate with your man,” Grayson orders.
Thirty minutes later, Eric and I lounge on the leather couch in the corner of his office. We have glasses of champagne in hand and I swear the Manhattan skyline is dancing in celebration for me.
“It’s hard to believe we’re here now, after all the challenges we have faced. We’re like a television soap opera that got cancelled,” I joke.
Eric laughs. “Yes, I suppose we are.” He sets his glass down. “Speaking of, and I hate to bring this up now, but I heard from your mother.”
I can’t help but feel a little twist in my belly at this news. In the two months since she went to Europe, I’ve spoken to her once, and it was not pleasant. “What did she say?”
“Now that the drug test came back clear and the heart attack ruling was filed officially, she’s holding a service in Italy, where she plans to live with Gigi.”
“When?”
“Next week, but we’re not invited. Obviously, neither is Isaac. She just wanted to be sure, when we heard the buzz about invitations, we didn’t decide to come anyway.”
“Of course she did. Any news on Isaac and whatever might be going on with him?”
“Coincidentally I talked to Blake today, but I wasn’t going to tell you until after the deal closed. Isaac inherited and moved into the Kingston mansion. Nicholas invested money in the company. All is well for him, aside from the part where he’s ruled by the iron hand of the mob.”
“It’s better than he deserves,” I say, tilting my head to study him. “How do you feel about not being invited to the service?”
“I didn’t want to go in the first place. I will never mourn a man who denied my mother medical care.”
And he hasn’t. Not beyond a few days of battling through a few confusing emotions, he’s been at peace. I believe he really doesn’t want to go to Italy, not for the service.
Together we celebrate our win today. Together we heal. Together we are better. Together we are forever.
Two months later…
The NFL deal is complete and Eric and I stand at the top of the Rockefeller Center in the center of a swanky party filled with investors and guests in celebration. I’m in a teal gown to match the team colors as is Mia, while Eric, Grayson, and Davis wear teal-colored ties. The evening is spectacular and as the night tracks on, Eric takes my hand and sneaks me out of the party.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a beautiful night and I need you to myself for a few minutes.”
I smile with this declaration, and we head downstairs, exiting to a cool beautiful evening with the stars twinkling above. I think we’re stopping at the ice rink, but he guides me toward a limo. “We’re leaving? In a limo?”
“Yes. We are.”
A driver opens the door for me and I give Eric a curious look. “What are you up to?”
“Wait and see.”
I laugh, and filled with joy that only this man gives me, I slide inside the car. A few minutes later, we pull up to a little wine bar we adore. “Isn’t it closed?”
“Not for us.”
I’m incredibly charmed that he’s created our own private celebration. Arm in arm, we walk toward the door and the owner, Max, who we have gotten to know, holds the door for us. We share a greeting with him and then enter the dimly lit bar, which is lined with quaint bookshelves and rows of wine bottles, with dangling lights above us.