Page 174 of Boss of Me
“Let’s go.” Zachary throws us an apologetic look before steering his mother away.
Maverick grins beside me. “Even though she was a little too chatty for my taste, there’s just something irresistible about lonely divorcées?—”
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn.
He laughs before we’re swarmed by more people.
An hour later, we’re back in the car and heading away from downtown. Maverick pours a glass of whiskey from the minibar and offers it to me.
“No, thanks.”
His eyebrow lifts. “Still abstaining?”
I nod, unknotting my tie.
He murmurs something into his glass before taking a sip.
“For the record,” I grumble, “it wasn’t necessary for you to ride with me tonight. You could’ve brought a plus one.”
“And have you looking like a sad sack all night?” Maverick snorts. “No way.”
“I wouldn’t have fallen apart if you came with a date. I’m notthatpathetic.”
He gives me a look that says we both know better.
Scowling, I pull out my phone to doomscroll through newsfeeds, but not even the grimmest headlines can distract me from thoughts of Marlowe.
She’s always in my head, even though she hates my guts. If I weren’t such a selfish bastard, I’d let her move on. She’s better off without me.
But I’m nothing without her. So I have to find a way to get her back.
“I’m thinking about buying her a piano,” I mumble, half to myself. “I checked out the floor plan of her new apartment, and I think a baby grand could fit in her living room.”
“So you didn’t learn your lesson from banner-gate?” Maverick chuckles grimly when I scowl. “Sorry, Gunn, but I told you a woman like Marlowe needs more than grand gestures.”
“For your information, she loves my so-called grand gestures.” Or at least she used to. Before I screwed everything up and lost her.
Maverick sighs. “Look, I’m not gonna lie. Flying an entire orchestra to Hawaii was pretty damn epic. You did things for Marlowe you never evenconsidereddoing for Laurene—or anyone else for that matter. But as much as she might’ve enjoyed the perks of dating a romantic billionaire, I’m betting what she wants most from you is honesty. Transparency. She wants to know how you’re hardwired. She wants to crack your code.” His voice softens. “Above all else, Gunn, she wants your heart.”
My jaw clenches, eyes narrowing on my brother’s face.
“No, I haven’t been secretly talking to her. She just happens to have more depth than any woman you’ve ever dated.” Maverick chuckles, shaking his head at me. “Before you drop eighty grand on a piano she might set on fire, think long and hard about what I said.”
I put my head back against the seat, mulling over his words. I’d give up my fortune for just one more shot with Marlowe. But she made it painfully clear she’s done with me, and it’s tearing me apart.
As we near the exit for her apartment, it takes all my willpower not to tell Trace to get off. I’m so desperate for a glimpse of her that I’ve seriously considered sitting outside her building and watching her windows. Losing her has awakened my inner stalker, apparently.
Frowning at the thought, I jerk my tie free of my collar and ball it up in my fist. I could use a drink right about now to take the edge off, but that’s not an option. It can’t be.
“You’re not Dad,” Maverick says tautly, as if reading my mind. “I don’t care what kind of bullshit programming you internalized as a kid. You’renotDale Ransom.”
I don’t respond for a long time, simply staring straight ahead while Maverick sips his whiskey, waiting.
“Remember when I went to that tech conference in Munich?” I finally say, my voice low. “It was the day after I broke up with Marlowe, and I was a complete fucking wreck. My first night in town, I got totally wasted and passed out in my hotel room. The next morning, I woke up facedown in my own vomit. I was so out of it I couldn’t even make it to the opening session to deliver the keynote address. Veronica covered my ass, telling everyone I had food poisoning. But she was so disappointed in me, she could barely look at me for days.” My insides burn with renewed shame. “It was one of the lowest moments of my professional life. That’s when I knew I had to make some changes.”
“So you went cold turkey.”
I nod tightly. “I’m not saying I’ll never touch another drink. But I need to take a break. I need to know I’m not using alcohol as a crutch. I need to know it doesn’t control me. I need . . .” My voice trails off, hand clenching on my thigh.
