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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ROBERT
Showing up at Hyde was a bad idea. Something I did because I couldn’t think of anything else.
And because it had been an asshole move to ghost Anya like that. So, I tried a grand gesture. Which was a disaster.
In the last few weeks, I’d read all her text messages. Thought of her many times during the trip to Miami and afterward, as I mulled over the offer Hudson had made. I even extended my stay in Florida so I could think about every angle, trusting Javier to finish the final work on the store without me.
He’d been the real genius behind the renovation anyway. I was only getting in his way.
Taking Hudson’s offer meant I’d need a game plan. I’d need to figure it all out. For a few days from a hotel room overlooking Miami Beach, I tried to work through the steps I needed to take.
But I couldn’t make it square.
No business plan or list of goals could make my next moves make sense. This wasn’t another business deal or split-second decision I could make to spend the whole sum I made while working at the hedge fund. No, this moment wasn’t about numbers.
It was about real life.
And when I looked at the numbers, I kept coming back to one thing—the way I felt the morning after the parade, when I woke up next to Anya. How it seemed that I was on the verge of something that truly mattered. Something that wasn’t about money or getting one over on someone else. And something tangible.
But as soon as I had it, I’d fucked up. Screwed it up worse than any day-trade or short position.
That much was obvious by the look Anya gave me when I showed up at the nightclub on my idiotic mission to explain myself. How much of a dumbass did I have to be to think showing up would do any good? That was a party for Morgan, not a regular night. She made that clear when she ordered me away. Anya didn’t want anything to do with me.
That was probably the least I deserved.
After Anya’s justified rejection, I realized it would be too painful to remain in New Burlington. To see her on a regular basis. To watch her move on with another man.
Yes, I knew what I had to do.
“Here we go,” I said to Jason as I straightened the barstools one more time. True to Javier’s word, the renovation finished ahead of schedule, and it was finally opening night.
“It looks great, man.”
“Thanks.” I crossed behind the bar and took a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle I’d bought for this occasion. I placed it on the counter, glad I had the moment alone with him as the catering staff put the final touches on the food in the mobile truck kitchen in the back parking lot. “A small token of my appreciation.”
“Whoa.” Jason raised both his hands. “I don’t deserve something like this.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Why?”
“We won the float contest off your idea. I never had the chance to thank you properly.”
