Page 61 of Lavish
“Iamthe hottest shit, but…” Miles shrugged. “People stay away. Or they always want to bring up the old shit.”
He shrugged, downing half the flute.
I tightened my grip around my flute, debating. “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
Just like the rest of the town, I could only watch in shock when Omar’s trial and arrest went public. There had been a whistleblower who’d said former Mayor Johnson and Omar had been caught selling and consuming illegal drugs.
Substances that he’d been on when he attacked Daddy.
I remembered seeing Miles on the news in dark shades, supporting his dad. But I never picked up the phone. Never asked him if he was doing okay. I told myself it wasn’t my business. That whatever happened to Miles and his family had nothing to do with me anymore.
I thought they would just…leave. But Lush was their home, and they stayed.
I could have called. I could have defied Mama and reached out.
“Yeah,” he muttered finally. “People stay away from us now. It’s easier that way, you know? But I’m changing it. That’s why I’ve been working hard to get the company back to a reputable place so people can respect us again.”
I took a long sip of champagne, trying to swallow down whatever emotion I didn’t want to face.
“Really?” I said, my tone sharp, a little more biting than I meant it to be. “You think that’s what people care about? Respect?” I scoffed. “It’s not about legacy, Miles. It’s aboutleverage. Everything in Lush is a transaction. They’ll never respect you—at least not like they respected your grandfather.”
His lips pressed together, and I could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.
“Then what? I should let it go?” he asked, his voice cold now. “Let the past bury me? Not try to redeem what’s fucked up about my family or my life?”
I tilted my head. “If you could fix Whitmore Ventures tomorrow, would that make you happy? Give you peace?”
Why are you engaging, Serena?
“You’re a hypocrite,” he said.
A young man with a camera approached us. “Um, excuse me, could I get a photo for theLush Chronicles?” His eyes flickered back and forth, unsure, with equal amounts of curiosity. “If that’s not a problem.”
Public appearances were part of our rules. If I appeased Mama and really embraced this, maybe I could get my sentence with him cut down to a year and a half.
“Sure.”
Miles didn’t say anything, but he did step closer. My ass brushed against his leg, and his chest pressed against my back, sending a thrill down my spine. His hand flattened just above my hip. Not lewd. Not sweet. Just there. Like a claim. I tried to breathe like it didn’t affect me. Like his touch didn’t burn through the silk of my suit and thread heat through my bloodstream.
The flash went off, and I felt the phony smile fall from my lips.
“Ah, you made it!” Laurene made her way toward us, Reese close behind.
I pulled myself away from him, trying to place the coldness back into my veins. Laurene, with surprising strength, pulled me into a tight hug.
“You look amazing, Lu,” Miles told her.
Laurene sucked her teeth. “Don’t lie to me, Miles. I’m huge, I’m wearing flats, and this dress is working harder than you ever have in life. But I appreciate the compliment.”
“Can’t lie to a pretty lady.” Miles grinned.
“Flats?” I added my two cents, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms. “Don’t let Gigi see. You know what she did to your closet when she found corduroy in it.”
“Oh, trust me, she’s already cursed me out,” Laurene replied, her grin spreading wider. “But when your ankles are the size of cantaloupes, the Gianvito Rossis get a well-deserved vacation.”
Reese raised a brow, glancing between us with a weird look in his eye. “So…both of you. Here.Alive.How’s it going?”
Laurene hit him on the shoulder, giving him a look.
