Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
They were still pricey to me, but I decided to splurge just this once. Besides, Rowan had convinced me they would last longer, which made them a better value.
“I’m starving,” I said as we walked out of the store with my bag in hand.
Rowan cast his gaze across the street. “Let’s grab lunch.”
We found a cute café, ordered sandwiches, and sat outside. The temperature was perfect, better than New York City weather this time of year, and I’d even venture to say the company was awesome too.
Apparently, someone had given me a lobotomy.
Rowan was definitely a people watcher, and as a couple with colorful tattoos walked by holding hands, a smile graced his lips. I couldn’t resist asking, “What are you thinking about?”
“It’s nothing…just something my father would say. He hated tattoos. Snubbed his nose at people who had them, especially if they were on display when you wore one of his gowns.”
“Hmm, sounds like someone I know.”
“Not true.” He actually looked hurt. “For one, my father would have never come here for lunch. He’d stick to Beverly Hills, or Central Park, for that matter, near their penthouse apartment.”
“Tell me about him,” I said, and Rowan grew very still. Shit, I hoped I didn’t just ruin everything.
“He didn’t come out until I was around ten years old, several years after my mother passed away,” he said thoughtfully. “He met Lorenzo when I was a senior in high school, and that was it for him—they were joined for life.”
“How romantic,” I replied, imagining what it might feel like to be that sure of someone. “That speech Lorenzo gave at the fundraiser…he still sounded heartbroken.”
Rowan nodded. “Lorenzo softened him. My father and I always butted heads, and Lorenzo was the buffer between us. My father was demanding and a perfectionist. Always working and never…” He trailed off, sadness in his eyes.
“Never what?”
“Never satisfied with anything I did.” He rolled his eyes, the frustration still present in the set of his jaw. “Wanted more for me. Wanted me to follow in his footsteps and make the clothes instead of just…suggesting different looks to clients. I didn’t have the same eye for design, and he knew it, so I would’ve disappointed him no matter what.”
“So you needed to prove yourself in your career? That’s why you’re so driven?”
He sipped his drink. “Who are you, my therapist?”
“Maybe you need one.”
“Maybe I already have one,” he replied, looking away.
Well, that certainly took me by surprise. This man had so many layers. It was like peeling away tiers of Victorian clothing with all the underthings and hundreds of buttons. It was an analogy Rowan would appreciate, if it wasn’t about dissecting his life.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
He picked at the crust on his plate. “I’m not as shallow as you think.”
“Of course not. Just pretentious.”
“That’s sort of the same thing, Mr. Nosy.”
“Nosy? Because I’m asking questions?” I scoffed. “Isn’t this what friends do—share themselves with each other? Kendall said it would make our work environment better.”
“Depends. Are we sharing or scrutinizing?”
“It’s hard not to when you keep me at arm’s length.” I angled my head. “But I think I have you figured out now.”
“Oh, this should be good.” He folded his arms. “Go ahead, humor me.”
“You need someone to appreciate you. To understand you.” I threw him a pointed look. “Someone you can trust.”
“Ah, I see. And you think because Brett cheated, that means—”
“Doesn’t it?” I challenged.
“Yeah, sure. And how about you? You pretend everything’s casual and temporary, but the truth is you need to feel useful. Valuable. The way you never did in your family.”
I cringed. “Ouch.”
“What’s the matter? You don’t like the scrutiny, friend?”
I shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. I might not have everything figured out, but I work hard. At least I have that going for me.”
He nodded. “You’re very good at your job.”
I fist-pumped. “You finally admit it.”
“Of course I do.” He scoffed. “I’m not that much of a grouch.”
I laughed. “Have you met yourself?”
He lifted his chin. “I have standards.”
I pushed my plate away. “Everybody has standards.”
“If you think mine are high, you should’ve met my father.” He leaned toward me as if someone would overhear. “And he wouldn’t approve of what we’re doing.”
“Well, this conversation sure took a turn.”
“I’m serious. He would tell me I’m playing with fire. That if word got out that we…people might think I’m taking advantage of you.” Worry creased his brow.
“I’m an adult making my own choices. It’s not like you’re holding anything over my head. Besides, we’re just having a little fun, remember?”
Our gazes clashed.
“You know this is not sustainable. At some point it has to—”
“Obviously.” Fuck, this conversation was not sitting right in my stomach. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of the weekend.”
It was clear Rowan respected his father’s opinions, and despite their difficulties, he missed him. I’d certainly miss my dad even if we didn’t always see eye to eye.