Page 26 of Fighting Gravity

He ignored the comment and instead took a sip of smooth, heat-filled bourbon and turned to face her. Like him, she was in pajamas. No drink, though. She never allowed herself to feel less in control. From what Quinn had told him, she’d rescued their relatives’ reputations from enough alcohol- and drug-fueled shenanigans to make any indulgence distasteful. He knew “indulgence” also meant dating. Relationships required handing over too much power, too much trust.

Tate remembered what George had said during their last conversation.Fuck. His jaw clenched painfully. He would never get to talk to George again. That finality would take some getting used to.Relationships are always the furthest thing from your minds,George had said.A relationship may have floated top of mind for Tate after a soft woman with a softer soul came apart in his arms.

“Quinn, do you really think that if either of us ever got into a relationship, it would affect OrbitAll? Or the Geier Group?”

She snorted. “You want to know what affects the Geier Group?Connardslike our cousin, Hadrian, who can’t keep his dick in his pants. Some Belgian royal challenged him to a duel of honor with aswordlast week when he found Hadrian with his wife. Oh, here’s one. Bacterial blight on the rye crops for our vodkas. Tariffs and trade wars and a sinking global economy. That’s what is affecting the Geier Group, Tate. A crush on your architect isn’t going to bring our company crashing down.”

Tate raised an eyebrow. Apparently, he wasn’t hiding his feelings well.

“My parents didn’t put that same pressure on me and my brother that yours did on you and Matt,” Quinn continued. “‘Legacy over love’ is your mother’s opinion, Tate, not fact. Didn’t stop your brother from making his own choice, right?”

Did the lifelong mantra of their mother’s stop his brother from falling head over heels in love with a Filipina flight attendant? No. It had, however, stopped him from running OrbitAll. Which meant his mother had been right: Matt couldn’t handle both. Tate liked to think he could, like people did every day around the world. But he’d heard that shit his entire life. He still didn’t know if it was possible to have both love and the legacy.

Maybe he’d never find out. Rosie’s interest in him was tentative at best, based on her ongoing silence.

“Besides,” Quinn added with a smirk, “you know I don’t do relationships. It’s all on you to find out if love can ruin our legacy. Oh! That reminds me. I want OrbitAll to support a new charitable cause. Can you think of some? The flight school is perfect, but maybe an organization or project with broader impact?”

Tate groaned. “I can’t join another board. I’m up to seven. My life has become nothing but meetings.”

“Wanna trade?” she shot back. “I’d love to sit on myderrièreat a conference table instead of flying all over the planet putting out fires.”

Would he want to trade? Tate missed the travel they’d done as children, following their parents to their different factories, distilleries, and retail shops around the world. Asia had always been his favorite, unlike France in every way. But Quinn’s targets were always moving. Tate liked having a singular goal: Getting dreamers to space. No, he wouldn’t trade. He had good people, but Tate was their leader. Their advocate and their fixer.

“I’ll think of something,” he said. “Now can we watch this movie or what? I want to see if Snape is as detestable as he is in the books.”

She chuckled. “Snape? Oh, cousin. Just wait.”

15

“I’m proud of how you’re handling this situation, Rosie. How are you feeling?”

Snuggled into Selah’s beige couch for her second time that week, Rosie uncrossed then recrossed her legs. They’d had an emergency session Monday after the fear of what might have happened at the club had taken her mind hostage.

“Okay, actually.”

There had been distractions. Their Fallbrook project was moving forward into construction. They’d dove deep into the hotel design for OrbitAll. She’d tried two new recipes. And Tate had been texting all week.

I don’t want to downplay your experience on Friday, but fuck, Rosie, I can’t stop thinking about everything that came after. You included.

Come relax at the villa for the weekend. I’ll give you whatever you need, including space.

Please tell me you’re okay. I’m calling your office if you don’t answer me soon.

She’d finally answered him and agreed to spend the weekend at his Le Corbusier villa. A mistake? Possibly. Couldn’t be worse than the unprotected sex they’d had in his jet. It wasn’t like she was on birth control. Thank GOD her period had ended the day before their Palm Springs trip. Nerves curled through her stomach. It scared her how easily she lost herself around Tate. But she did not regret what they’d shared.

Selah smiled. “May I share why I think you’re doing okay?”

Never-ending afterglow from the best orgasm of my life?

“Sure.”

“You trusted your own judgment. You trusted Tate with your safety and that decision paid off. And, if I may be so bold, I assert that if you keep trusting your own judgment, you will continue to see that people are worthy of your trust. Yourself included.”

Every so often, Selah’s words lodged in her heart—painful but poignant. Rosie nodded, blinking emotion out of her eyes. Selah was right. The person she’d been most upset with after the Chad incident had been herself. She hadn’t trusted her own judgment for a long time. “Thank you.”

“I hope you have a great weekend. An overnight stay is a big step for you, another milestone in healing.”

Rosie saw her weekend at Tate’s more as a way to keep him from calling her office. Sure, she trusted him more than she trusted herself around him. Was that a milestone? Maybe. Selah was the professional.

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