Page 61 of The Billionaire's Second Chance
In order forSebastianto take me seriously.
I underestimated you. You’re a good businesswoman.
This was what I had wanted.
The words hadn’t changed, only the man delivering them.
And me: somewhere between my old high school library and the New York Public Library and this apartment, I had changed, too.
I sucked in a breath and looked away from my brother’s hard, cold face–myface–out at the smiling partygoers congratulating Edie and James. The feeling of vertigo had returned, like falling.
And then his eyes caught mine.
Charlie.
He was standing with Ryan and Barrett, a glass of champagne in one hand, the other in the pocket of his dress pants. I could see Barrett talking, that Charlie was listening, but… he was looking at me. One corner of his mouth curved up, a private smile in a crowded room, and one eyebrow lifted in a silent question:You okay?I knew why he was asking; his eyes flicked to Sebastian for the barest fraction of a second, and back to me.
I nodded, and his smile twitched again before he turned to Barrett.
And I knew.
To James, to Ryan…even to myself, I understood with a jolt, I might be Sebastian’s little sister. But to Charlie?
To Charlie I was Caesar salads, and pink cashmere, and lunches spent in the library. I wasSense and Sensibilityand afternoon sex at the Sterling Hotel and whispered secrets in the dark.
And even when I hated Charlie Martin, I had always trusted him. He was a cocky asshole, but he wasn’t ajerk. He wouldn’t lie. He would never kiss and tell. He loved the stupid dual literacy campaign, the kids in his computer club. His friends, Flora and Ryan and James and Edie. Ryan’s daughter Maddie. The new baby.
And me.
“You and James had so much in common,” Sebastian was saying. My fingers tingled, my brain filled with static and my stomach with butterflies. “You would have made a good pair–”
“Thisreallyisn’t the time,” I said, distracted, not looking at my brother.
“Then again…” he said, and something in his tone was enough to catch my attention. I turned to him, his face, so much like mine, wearing a shark-like smile. “Charlie is the richer of the Martins, now. Or at least, he–”
“Shutup, Sebastian,” I interrupted, my voice quiet but my tone firm. His eyebrows shot up, his smile fixed in place. “I really don’t care what you think. About Edie, or her book, or my job, or my love life, orCharlie Martin’s account balances. I don’t care, and I don’t know why I ever did.”
He was silent for a moment, his head tilting to one side, and I straightened my spine under his scrutiny. Then he let out a small huff of air from his nose, his smile hitching a fraction wider. “You don’t, do you?”
I childishly wanted tohithim, his smug, smiling face, but we were adults now, at a cocktail party, so instead, all I said was, “Please excuse me,” before I made my escape.
CHAPTER29
Charlie
“I thoughtI might find you here.”
The door closed behind me with a soft click, and Samantha looked up from her clasped hands to meet my eye. I glanced around pointedly. The decor was different–there was a crib now where the bed had once been, a pile of unopened boxes stacked in one corner–but it was the same room.
“What are you doing in here?”
“What do you think?”
“Well, itlookslike you’re hiding,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. “But that doesn’t seem like something Sam Scott would do.”
She shook my head. “It doesn’t.”
“Unless… Unless she was feeling less like Sam Scott, and more like Sebastian’s little sister?” I ventured. She’d looked upset, when I saw them talking; her brows had been ever so slightly drawn, the corners of her mouth ever so slightly downturned.
