Page 56 of Christmas with Brother's Best Friends
“Vision,” I say. “It looks nice, but there’s no symmetry with your brand. Your goals. Your mission.”
Vincent chuckles and snaps his fingers. “I had a feeling that I finally found the right person. I was already sold by your portfolio, but I wanted to get a feel for you personally.”
“I’m easy to work with,” I assure him. “Whether we’re working in the same office or across the country from each other.”
Vincent sips on his drink before threading his fingers together. “I’d prefer for you to work in San Francisco where my office is. You don’t have to come in every day, but I’d like you nearby for in-person meetings and presentations.”
All the way across the country. That’s a big jump. Not that I haven’t done something like that before, but it’s not exactly part of my plan to find something big and long term here.
Life never goes as planned, though, and I didn’t factor heartbreak into my life decisions. Maybe being hundreds of miles away from the guys will help me get over my feelings for them faster.
“I’m interested in working with you, but that’s a big move. I’ll need some time to think about it,” I tell him.
Vincent nods in understanding. “I won’t be here for long, but I look forward to your answer. I hope you make the right one.”
Even more pressure threatens to crush me, and the smell of the Moscow mule isreallymaking my stomach churn now. It feels sour at this point, and bile keeps trying to rise up my throat.
I think I need to leave. Soon.
“I’ll reach out soon,” I promise him as I slip off the high chair.
A puzzled look fills his face. “Where are you going? You haven’t even touched your drink.”
“I’m sorry. I'm just feeling a little under the weather right now, but I’ll get an answer to you soon,” I say as I back away from him, forcing myself not to gag but struggling.
Vincent manages to get out a nod before I spin around and hurry toward the exit, needing to get home as my nausea skyrockets. I can’t throw up in the middle of a meeting, and I hope that I haven’t ruined my chances by skipping out early.
I burst through the hotel doors, gulping in a lungful of crisp air like I’ve just escaped a cage. For a second, it helps. The nausea ebbs. My head clears.
And then I see them.
Josh.Stacy.
Walking toward the entrance, deep in conversation—too close. Her perfectly manicured hand lands on his arm, like she has every right to touch him. Like I was never there.
My pulse spikes. The world tilts.Are they together? Already?
My stomach clenches hard, and this time I can’t stop it. I stagger sideways, gripping the edge of a decorative planter as bile surges up my throat.
I don’t care who sees.I just want this to stop.
I throw up everything—lunch, nerves, heartbreak—right onto the neatly trimmed bushes outside a five-star hotel.
What I would give to disappear.
Chapter twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-Six: Josh
As Emma throws herself into the bush, my stomach drops.
What’s wrong with her? Is she drunk? Did she drink alone?
Or with someone else?
I push my troubling thoughts aside as she sinks down to her knees in front of the pot to catch her breath, her head hanging in exhaustion. I hurry over to her and place my hand on her back, concern haunting my face. “Emma, are you okay?”
Emma turns her face away from me, her hair shielding her eyes. “I’m fine. Just go away.”
