Page 140 of Begin Again, Part 1

"Fashion Week is still weeks away. You can give her the tickets tomorrow," Julian said reasonably as he and Matthew held him down.

"Who would she even attend the event with anyway? No one goes there alone."

"With me, of course," Liam replied.

The brothers exchanged a look and burst into roaring laughter.

"What? What's so funny?"

"No one can say you don't have a healthy dose of self-confidence." Matthew sighed as he dropped onto the coffee table and frowned at him.

Liam asked, "what do you mean?"

"You fucked up badly, but you're still thinking about taking Eden to Fashion Week when you haven't fixed half your mess yet," Julian explained patiently.

"Sleep this shit off," Matthew added. "And tomorrow when you see Eden, sincerely apologise, and maybe she'll start liking you enough to consider going to Fashion Week with you."

Liam blinked at them, perplexed by the notion that Eden didn't like him. Sure, she was angry today, maybe even furious with him. But disliked him? What reason did she have to dislike him when he'd tried his damnedest over the past few days to make her happy?

The thought instantly sobered him up, leaving him reeling with anger and confusion.

"You need to leave," he said quietly.

"Liam—" Julian touched his shoulder to console him.

But he shrugged him off. "I need to be alone. I'm exhausted."

Matthew stared at him, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Gibby and Clara have left for the day. Should we ask the receptionists to get you something to eat?" he asked at last.

"I'm not fucking helpless; I can get my own food," Liam snapped before he stumbled to the storage cabinets in his bathroom, returning moments later with a throw blanket and a couple of pillows.

"You fucked up. Man up, and deal with it!" Matthew glared at him one last time and headed out, with Julian trailing behind him.

Liam reached for another beer, hoping it would help cool his anger. But when he squashed the empty can and threw it on the floor some minutes later, he was still seething.

He sat there awhile, annoyed at Matthew's words. But he knew he wouldn't be so pissed off if there wasn't any truth in his cousin's words. He fucked up plenty. The painting and the vase were a terrible idea, and he should never have left off his apology for so long. Maybe things wouldn't have snowballed this far if he hadn't.

Ready to clean up his mess, Liam called his sister.

Willow was happy to send someone over to collect the stuff. She was even more thrilled to remind him of her no returns policy. There'd be no refund.

"Are you kidding me? That's not a hundred grand. We're talking almost a million here!" Liam exploded, convinced he'd pissed off his guardian angel or whatever god was responsible for his luck today, because everything that could go wrong had gone to shit spectacularly.

"Liam, art pieces lose value as soon as they leave the gallery—"

He killed Willow's salesman speech before she could get to the good parts. "It's not a damn car. It doesn't depreciate!"

"What's the issue, dearest brother?"

He groaned and sat down on the coffee table. "Willow, I don't want to talk about this. Just get the stuff and keep it in storage for me."

"Tell me, what's wrong?" His sister nudged him. "Let me help you fix this."

Despite his better judgement, Liam opened up to her, only to be met with stunned silence.

"So? What should I do? You said we can fix this. So, let's fix it. What's the plan?" He prodded after a long pause of heavy sighs from both ends.

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