Page 1 of Say You'll Stay

1

BEAU

If I have a fatal flaw, it is this—I like things a certain way.

Schedules, my clothes, my home, my days, all of it is customized to my needs. So when I notice the paper cut on my forefinger, it makes me smile. Any other day, and I would be annoyed. But not today.

Nothing will get me down today. I am meeting the illustrious Pavel Cerny. Today is the day I will stand in the presence of greatness.

Dramatic? Perhaps. In fact, the grandiose thought makes me roll my eyes at myself. But the fact remains that Pavel Cerny is the greatest architect in a generation and securing him for my project has taken up much of my time, so I allow myself some bombast on the matter. I made the best connections, schmoozed the right people with a delicate touch, and now I am to be rewarded for all my efforts.

Sliding a folder into my brown leather briefcase, I am reminded of the hard work which went into scoring this meeting. More importantly, I am also relieved.

The rumors were false. Pavel is available for our project.

My downtown office is charming, but it will be nothing compared to the office I’ll have once we build our resort. Currently, I am surrounded by a posh desk, chair, and bookshelf setup that would suit any executive, which makes sense considering it’s a rental office. Dark woods, shining finishes, the works. I even have a view of the harbor. But now, I want more. I already have ideas for my resort office, and Pavel will have the genius to make them even better. I deserve that office. A Cerny original. I can practically see it in my mind. Everything is coming together.

A bold knock at my door calls my attention.

“Enter.”

My older brother, Cormac, walks in. Our family resemblance is undeniable, but it’s the little things that distinguish us from one another. Similar brown hair, only mine has faint lowlights of auburn. I’m taller, but he has ten pounds of muscle on me. A negligible difference, but he’s always quick to remind me when it comes up. Still, I’m better than him at tennis, so I don’t mind much. He has our father’s gray-blue eyes—dark and steely. Mine are like Mom’s. Hazel green and not at all mysterious. Not quite fair of Fate to give him the nicer eyes. He’s always been too straightforward with them. Had I the blue eyes of a wolf, I might have been one.

He smiles. Of course he smiles. He’s been all smiles since finding Lily Olson, his nanny-turned-girlfriend, just a few months ago. Ever since their reconciliation, he’s had wedding bells across his face. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked me to go with him to Manhattan for ring shopping yet. “You must be excited to meet Pavel.”

“That is Mr. Cerny to you, peasant.”

He laughs. “Right, yes, I hear he’s got a bit of a proper streak about him. That should be fun to work with for the project.”

“I’ll call himKingCerny, if it gets me the resort I want. And so will you.”

“I cannot get over how much of a man crush you have on him.”

I huff. “It’s not a crush. It’s a bit of hero worship mixed with sheer awe, we lucked out.”

“Admittedly, I’m surprised Barbara Tanner’s intel wasn’t solid.”

“Why is that?”

“You said she heard from his ex-wife that he had a project in Dubai—

“Yes, and you said that ex-wives are not known for their solid information, meaning the Dubai rumor was likely untrue, which was a comfort, and you sound as though you are peeling that comfort away. Why would you do that to me right now?”

Cormac laughs. “Calm down, Beau. You have the meeting. Stop worrying so much. This is happening.” He is right, of course, but still.

Though I try to be unflappable, my blood pressure cannot take the panic that set in once I heard about the Dubai rumor. Not again. I take a breath and let it out slowly. “You’re right. It’s… this has been a long time coming, and I am eager to get to Manhattan to meet with him so he can tell me his vision, and I can breathe easy again. Out of curiosity, what makes you doubt Barbara Tanner’s intel?”

“You said she had heard about Dubai from his ex-wife. Pavel is an artist—they shift with the wind. So, all I meant was, his ex-wife could have been current on his plans and still be wrong. Not her fault, not Barbara’s fault, either. Also, not an issue. The meeting is set. This should be a victory lap for you, Beau. You did it. Relax. You have a long drive ahead of you.”

I nod and close my briefcase. “Well, I have everything. If you need me, call before ten. That’s when the meeting starts—"

“I saw it on the calendar,” he says with a tone. “Promise me you’ll drive like a reasonable human and not a race car driver.”

“My Aston likes to be driven fast.”

“And your driving record? What does it like?”

“That question does not warrant an answer.”

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