Page 9 of February

“Yes, you can. I’ll tell your mother you’ll be missing family dinners for the next few weeks. Just make sure to call her to check in so she doesn’t worry.”

“Dad!”

“And tell Aaron about the call. He needs to make his mind up soon if he’s hoping for fall admittance. It’s already February. Has he even applied? The deadlines are usually in February.”

“Not yet. Lily had him apply to Columbia only to see if he got in. He did, so now she doesn’t want him applying anywhere else.”

“That ex-wife of yours…” The old man shook his head. “Can you have the shoes delivery changed to the office?” He asked her assistant. “She’s going to be out of town for a while.”

“Dad!” Monica laughed.

She had no idea how she was supposed to go to New Orleans, of all places, for a few weeks and leave in a couple of hours to acquire a business for the company. It sounded like the business in question was about to go under and had nothing to offer them, but her father had a connection to it, which meant she couldn’t really argue. The gala was something they’d paid a lot of money to attend, but she hadn’t requested a plus-one, so the company would only have to find one person to take her seat at the table. This trip would also give her a great excuse to skip it and not run into Lily and her young girlfriend. For a minute there, she actually wondered at the likelihood of Lily finding out about her shoes, requesting them be rerouted to Miami and then delivered to her house just in time for her to slip them onto her girlfriend’s feet before the gala. Monica wouldn’t put it past her.

She packed up her things and chatted with her assistant about moving some meetings around and giving the ticket for the night to someone else. Then, she rushed home in the company-provided town car and stared into her overly large closet. She had to admit to herself that she’d gone too big for a place she planned to live in alone. After her marriage, Monica had decided she’d date around here and there as time permitted. She’d enjoy some liaisons as she was able, but she wouldn’t attempt another serious relationship. She’d at least hold off on that until long after her dad retired and she had a handle on the company she was about to inherit.

She’d bought the penthouse more out of revenge than anything else. It had just appeared on the market, and she’d known that Lily would be interested in it, so she’d snatched it up before her ex-wife had gotten the chance. It had three bedrooms, with the walk-in closet being basically the size of a bedroom all on its own. One bedroom was a guest room that hadn’t had any guests outside of the times Aaron had asked to stay over at her place instead of going home, and the other bedroom was her at-home office. She had to hire a maid because the apartment was too large for her to clean on her own, but since she rarely spent more than eight hours a day there and she was sleeping for most of that time, she wasn’t sure what she was really paying that maid for. The apartment was essentially empty. Yes, it had her possessions, and there were many of those, but that was it. There was no life in this place, only things.

Monica pulled out two large suitcases from the closet. Then, she stared out through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which automatically tinted when she turned on the lights to block her bedroom from prying eyes, and she stared out at the Manhattan skyline. This city was truly an amazing place, but she was beginning to feel like her father might be right: she could use some time away from it.

CHAPTER 3

“Hey, honey. Can I talk to you for a minute?” her mom asked.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Can you come into the office?”

“Well, at least I know I’m not getting fired,” Bridgette muttered under her breath as she rose from her desk and followed her mom into the office. “Everything okay?”

“Your dad wanted to be here, but he’s meeting with an attorney, so I told him I’d talk to you.”

“Mom, what’s going on?” Bridgette asked.

She closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning back against it while her mom took one of the chairs in front of the desk.

“Have a seat.”

“No, I’m okay standing,” she replied.

“Bridge, please.”

Bridgette saw the pleading look in her mother’s eyes and sat down next to her, turning the chair the way her mom had done so that they were now facing one another.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Honey, do you remember me telling you about your grandpa’s business friend, Kevin Arnette?”

“Not specifically, no. Should I?” she asked.

“Well, he’s the head of a company called Arnette Assets, which owns a lot of different companies. They focus mainly on real estate, but they own a chain of grocery stores and some other things now, too.”

“Mom, why are we talking about some company?”

“Because your grandfather went to school with the head of the company. They’ve remained good friends. Your father and he have been talking for a while now.”

“What about, Mom?” Bridgette asked.

“About him buying the company. They own Good Day Greeting already, and he thinks they could use our lines and buy up existing inventory.”

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