Eastern Lights Page 17

  At this point, he was completely grimacing as he sat on the edge of the desk. His legs were stretched in front of him with his ankles crossed. His hands slid into his pockets, and the frown only deepened as he realized what I was proposing.

  “I’m sorry, Aaliyah, I don’t really take on interviews.”

  “I completely understand, but at Passion, we aren’t the everyday interviewers. We take pride in showcasing our clients in the best light and using our words to inspire others who have enough nerve to dream big. I spent the night researching you and your story—at least the parts that are public knowledge—and I do believe what you’ve done is quite remarkable. I think many could benefit from knowing your full story, or at least as much as you are willing to share.”

  He scratched at the well-kempt scruff on his face. “I hear you, but I’m sorry. I think it’s important to hold on to some privacy in one’s life, and once you invite the media in, things can get twisted and messy. I’m not looking to add any more mess to my life. I just want to do good, even if it’s in private.”

  Just like that, my already shattered heart began to crumble even more. I hadn’t known the pieces to break into smaller shards, yet here I was, heartbroken and pained.

  I couldn’t even argue with Connor about his reasoning because I knew it was true. Once you opened the door to the world of media, they thought they deserved the right to flood into your privacy whenever they wished.

  You couldn’t ask for privacy once you invited everyone into your world.

  I parted my lips to try to say something that could maybe convince him, but nothing came to mind, so I shut my mouth.

  He frowned and shrugged apologetically. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

  “No, it’s fine. I completely understand. Thank you for even taking time out of your day to meet with me. And thank you for everything you did for me on Saturday. You truly went above and beyond.” I took in a deep inhalation and stood from the chair. My mind was already beginning to turn into panic mode as I turned away from Connor to leave his office.

  “Aaliyah,” Connor called. As I looked back, I noticed he’d stood up from the desk, with his hands still in his pockets.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry for what Jason did to you. You’re a good woman, and you didn’t deserve that treatment. But”—he took a few steps in my direction and lowered his voice—“between you and me, I believe you dodged a bullet.”

  I let out a dry laugh and blinked a few times. “If only my heart could believe your words.”

  “Just feel what you need to feel, then one day you’ll be okay again.”

  “Is that how it works?”

  “Yes.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise, Red.”

  Each time he called me Red, I felt a little less alone.

  I wanted to believe I’d be okay, but the tears began falling from my eyes, and I brushed them away quickly. I shook my head and tried to apologize for falling apart in front of Connor again. He wouldn’t allow it and was quick to grab me a tissue to wipe away my tears.

  “Gosh, this is so embarrassing. I’m really not a mess like this. I hardly ever cry. Unless it’s like one of those videos where a soldier comes home to surprise their family. Those always bring on the waterworks. Or a cute animal that’s been through trauma but found a happy family. That chokes me up, but the amount of tears I’ve shed in the past few days with you is too much. You’ve probably seen me cry more than most people.” I chuckled, embarrassed.

  “VIP access to your emotions,” he joked. “No worries here. It’s a safe place.”

  “We should really stop meeting like this, though—with me having a broken heart.”

  “Hopefully, next time we cross paths, you get the happily ever after.”

  I pushed out a smile, but he knew it wasn’t real. He frowned and studied me as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know exactly what words to give. Therefore, I took that as my sign to leave his office and allow him to get back to his life. I’d already taken up enough of his time.

  He looked down for a second, then reconnected his stare with mine. “Aaliyah?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can I hug you?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  He moved in and wrapped himself around me as if he were a weighted blanket and held on tight. I melted against him, not even knowing how much I needed his comfort until he unleashed it on me.

  I breathed him in, smelling his cologne that rubbed against the fabric of my clothing. I lay my cheek against his chest as he rested his chin on top of my head. I remained in that same spot until I felt as if I were overstaying my welcome against his soul.

  Then I let go.

  “All right, well, I’m going to get out of your hair, but thank you for meeting with me this morning. And thank you, Connor, for being…you.”

  “Of course. I truly wish you the best, Aaliyah, and you’re going to be okay.”

  I didn’t know why, but the way he said it almost made it seem true, almost as if me being okay was the result of all the madness taking place.

  “I lost my relationship, my home, and my dream job all within a few days. It’s kind of hard to believe everything’s going to be okay, but thank you for your kind words. Oh, before I go.” I reached into my purse and pulled out two dollar bills. I placed them on his desk.

  He snickered. “Making good on our bet?”

  “I’m a woman of my word.”

  He gave me a sad smile, and I gave him one back before turning to leave, but I couldn’t help but pause because I knew there was something else I wanted to say to him.

  “I searched your name online last night,” I confessed, meeting his ocean stare. “And I doubt it matters coming from me, but I’m really proud of you for everything you’ve done in life. It seems all your dreams are coming true. Not only that, it seems you’re big on giving back to the world what it gives to you.”

  “It does,” he said, crossing his arms. “It does matter coming from you.”

  Later that night as I sat in bed searching the internet for jobs, I was surprised when my phone dinged with a new email. A new email from Connor.

  To: aaliyahwinters@passion.com

  From: ConnorXRoe@roeenterprises.com

  Subject: Saturday

  Red,

  You talked me into it. I’m hosting an open house tomorrow (Saturday) for one of my bigger properties if you’d like to come. No better time than the present to get started with the interview process, plus you can see me in action at work. Meet me at the corner of Smith & Hadley at Trevon Tower around ten in the morning. If you have questions or get lost, here’s my number. Call or text any time.

  -Captain

  P.S. You’re going to be okay.

  21

  Connor

  My mother believed in magic. Not like voodoo spells or chanting kind of magic, but the magic of one’s mind. She believed everything works together for the greater good and that life leaves clues for every person about the road they are supposed to walk down. My mother would’ve called the events of the past few weeks a sign from the universe.

  I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t somewhat think the same thing.

  Aaliyah coming back into my life had to mean something, right? Or maybe I just wished and hoped it meant something. Either way, I wasn’t ready to let her go again. On the one hand, I loathed the idea of doing an exclusive interview and bringing people into parts of my world. But on the other hand, I loved the idea of having more of her in my life. Sure, I didn’t have time for a life outside of work, but in a way, this was work-related now so—business. That was what I was doing. I was taking part in my regular business tasks.

  Whatever it takes to convince yourself that you don’t just want to be around Aaliyah, buddy.

  “Why do I feel as if I’m going to be stunned by the property you’re about to show me?” Aaliyah asked as she approached me on the sidewalk. She looked as breathtaking as she
always did. I wondered if she knew how effortlessly striking she was without even trying.

  She wore a white dress that hugged her waistline. The way it highlighted her hourglass figure didn’t go unnoticed. Aaliyah’s curves should’ve come with a hazard warning. Her hair was pulled up into a large bun, and her lips were painted crimson.

  Caution: Will Make Grown Men Weep.

  “I think most people would be stunned by it. It’s massive.”

  “I’m excited!”

  “Me too. How are you?”

  She pushed out a smile. “Good.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. “But how are you really?”

  Her smile faded, and she shrugged her shoulders. Good. Be real with me, Red.

  “One day at a time. At this moment, I’m okay,” she told me.

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Thank you for doing this—for agreeing to the interview, even when I know you aren’t fully comfortable with the idea. I want to give you my word that I will put my all into this project, Connor. I swear, I’ll make this experience worth it for you.” She shifted nervously in her heels as her lips turned upside down. She might’ve been the first person in the world who still looked beautiful while frowning. “I just don’t want you to think I’m using you. I am really interested in knowing your story.”

  “You can use me,” I confessed, shrugging. “If I’m going to be used by anyone, I’d like it to be by you.”

  She blushed a little. “How is it that you’re still as nice as you were a few years ago? How has the city not made you jaded yet?”

  “I visit home enough to still hold on to my Southern roots.”

  Her shoulders relaxed a little, and she locked her stare with mine. Her eyes were so soft and filled with confusion. “Why did you decide to do the article? You seemed certain that you weren’t interested when I met with you.”

  I didn’t really have a straight answer for that, because I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Because for the longest time, I’d imagined being around her once again. Because when she was sad, I wanted to make her happy.

  Because she deserved some kind of win after so many losses.

  “Two years ago in Wish Alley, I wished for more of you. I’d be an idiot to walk away when a wish came true.”

  “You’re good at that, you know.”

  “At what?”

  “Giving out flashes of love that help people forget they’re sad for a moment.”

  “This can’t be real life,” Aaliyah muttered, walking around the penthouse. Her jaw had gone slack the moment she stepped inside, and she hadn’t closed said mouth since. I’d invited her to come early to see the small details that went into setting everything up before potential clients began arriving to see the property.

  That early morning, we stood inside a thirty-million-dollar property, and that wasn’t even the most expensive unit I’d be showing in the coming weeks. It was a double-height duplex penthouse, and to put it mildly, it was fucking insane. The penthouse was almost nine hundred feet in the sky, giving the owners views of New York City that felt surreal. There was a 270-degree panorama of the city that featured the Hudson River, the Statue of Liberty, and the Manhattan skyline. Five thousand two hundred square feet of wealth. Four bedrooms, six bathrooms, a theater room, and a custom Bulthaup kitchen. All the appliances were smart devices, and the hidden pantry that led to a reading nook with a setup for coffee and tea was the icing on the cake.

  Not to mention the private elevator, fitness room, private yoga room, and private spa suites, along with the swimming pool.

  Needless to say, the modern space was unmatched, and I was ready for the offers to start rolling in.

  “It’s unreal, right?” I agreed. “We have our staging crew come in and make it shine with all the furniture and accent pieces. We also have caterers and bartenders come in to serve the guests.”

  “Connor.” She breathed out. “What the heck?”

  I smiled. She was in a state of shock, and I couldn’t blame her. I remembered the first time I walked into a property like the one we stood in. I had dreams about the damn place for weeks.

  “People really live like this?” she asked.

  “A very small, small percentage of people.”

  “With very big, big amounts of money,” she muttered under her breath as she swept her fingers against the sofa cushions. She quickly pulled her hand away and turned toward me and whispered as if caught doing a bad deed. “Am I allowed to touch this stuff?”

  “Touch away.” I laughed. “You can even sit on it if you want to be wild.”

  “Oh, no. I don’t have a wild bone in my body.”

  “Why do I find that hard to believe? You did, after all, once run around New York City with a superhero.”

  She looked my way and gave me a smile. Why did my chest always tighten when she gave that smile to me?

  “Connor, everything’s a go. We’ll have about fifty potentials filtering in and out. A lot of talk about offers being made today. We’ll see what happens,” Damian said, walking up to me and breaking my stare away from Aaliyah.

  “Good, good. Only a bit more time before things get busy. Damian, let me reintroduce you to Aaliyah. She’ll be around over the coming weeks because she’s doing a piece on me.”

  He cocked a brow. “A piece of what?”

  “You know…a piece. Like an article. For Passion Magazine.”

  He blinked repeatedly. “You’re doing an interview?”

  “Yes.”

  “You? The man who thinks interviews are the devil?”

  “Yes. Me.”

  “The one who’s turned down hundreds of thousands of dollars to avoid doing interviews?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You do know your last offer was for half a million, right? Is this the half-a-million interview?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s not.”

  “How much are you paying him?” Damian flatly asked Aaliyah, who was still rubbing down the sofa.

  She looked at Damian and smiled. “Oh, only ten thousand but he asked for it to be donated to charity.”

  Damian shot me a ‘What the hell is going on?’ expression, and I shot him a ‘Shut up and drop it’ glare—to which he gave me a ‘You’re a fucking idiot’ stare. I followed that up with an ‘I know I’m a fucking idiot’ look. Aaliyah didn’t even notice that we held a whole conversation with just intense eye contact.

  Sometimes, I felt Damian and I communicated better without words than we ever did with them.

  “My boss is convinced Connor is one of the hot topics of this time,” Aaliyah explained.

  “The topics must be very underwhelming this year,” Damian replied.

  Aaliyah laughed, tossing her head back. “Yeah. We were really scraping the bottom of the barrel with this guy.”

  Hell, her laughter was beautiful, too. She had that intense kind of laugh that vibrated off the walls and into people’s spirits. It was an infectious sound, the kind of laughter that made other people chuckle, too.

  “Makes sense. I’m sure you asked others too and they declined the offer of being interviewed,” Damian said. “Honestly, that’s the only thing that would make sense.”

  “He was actually the third billionth person we reached out to this time around,” Aaliyah chimed in, playing along with Damian. Most people didn’t pick up on Damian’s dry humor since it read as rude and dismissive a lot of the time, but Aaliyah fell right into place with it.

  “You should’ve kept searching,” Damian said.

  Aaliyah shook her head and crossed her arms. “I know. I told my boss that over and over again, but alas, we had to settle with this one.”

  Damian almost smirked, and—holy shit how did she get him to almost smirk? What kind of witchcraft was Aaliyah into?

  “Better get back to work. If you want to give her the bad joke today and save me from that misery, by all means,” Damian said.

&nbs
p; “Sounds good. And Damian?” I nodded his way. “Take the lead today.”

  He arched a surprised brow. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I think you’re ready.”

  “I’ve never shopped a property this big,” he warned.

  “Which is exactly why you should do it today. You got this. I’ll be lurking in the shadows if you need me.”

  His brows knitted together, and he shrugged his shoulders. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “I love you, too,” I joked, patting him on the back. He walked off to make sure everything was perfect around the property, and I knew he was excited. Even though he’d never pushed a property that size, I knew if anyone could sell it that afternoon, it would be Damian. Sure, he was cold in his demeanor when he wasn’t working with clients, but he turned on the fake charm once he stepped into the business role.

  It was amazing to witness. He could make himself give fake smiles to clients and speak elegantly and charm their pants off without a problem. Yet the moment the clients left, Damian’s face would drop and he’d return back to his old Eeyore ways. The good ole bait and switch.

  I bet he had to unplug completely from the world after engaging with other humans. It seemed exhausting to him.

  Aaliyah kept smiling. “What a nice guy.”

  “Nice?” I laughed. “Most people call him unapproachable.”

  “I think he’s funny. A very dry sense of humor. He doesn’t smile much, now does he?”

  “I’m still waiting to see it. I’m kind of scared for when I see a real, genuine smile from him. I don’t know how I’ll react.”

  Aaliyah let out a small chuckle, and it transported me back to Halloween night when she laughed and left that sound imprinted on me.

  “Come on,” I said, holding a hand out toward her. “Let me show you the rest of the place before people begin arriving.”