Page 40 of A Simple Reminder

“Jared’s a grown man,” I bite back, my voice sharp, the jealousy I’m trying so damn hard to bury creeping in. “He can handle himself without you for a few hours. Or are you implying he needs you to do his job?”

If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under. But I don’t flinch, not even a little.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” she replies, her voice steady but ice-cold, the walls back up. “I’ll meet you tomorrow.Boss.”

The way she says it, with that bite, tells me I’ve hit a nerve. But I don’t regret it. Not when it means she’ll show up and I’ll get a few more minutes alone with her.

“Don’t be late.” I start to turn away but stop myself, the words already coming. “Goodnight, Sophie.”

She sighs, a sound that’s resigned, like she’s just accepting whatever mess I’m throwing at her. “Goodnight, Liam.”

Then she’s gone, disappearing into the building, leaving me standing there, staring at the door like an idiot and strangely hollow.

I’ve got no meeting withOpulent Havenyet, but I’ll make it happen. I’ll call in whatever favors I need to get us in tomorrow. Because there’s no way I’m letting this slip through my fingers.

EIGHTEEN

LIAM

TEN YEARS AGO

“Will it hurt?” Sophie’s voice is low and sweet as she lies on the tattoo chair. Her face is turned toward me, her ocean-blue eyes searching mine for reassurance while the tattoo artist prepares the area behind her ear.

I squeeze her hand gently, offering a smile meant for comfort. “A little,” I admit, my voice as soft as I can, “but you’re tough. You’ll handle it like a champ.” I’m trying to prepare her, if I tell her it doesn’t hurt at all, and it actually does, it will be worse.

Her lips twitch into a tentative smile, and she squeezes my hand back, a silent thank you. “Okay, I trust you. I’m with you, so it’s gonna be okay,” she murmurs.

“With me,” I affirm softly, feeling a surge of protectiveness.

The tattoo artist looks over, his experienced eyes assessing her readiness. “Are you ready?” he asks in a tone that's both professional and kind. Sophie nods, her response a quick, “Yes,” barely audible over the growing buzz of the tattoo machine.

Her grip tightens, and I can tell she’s feeling the first sting of the needle. “Just focus on breathing,” I remind her, my other hand moving over her arm, grounding her.

I can see her jaw clench slightly, the first line of discomfort etching across her face, but she doesn’t say a word.

“Tell me something. A story. Anything.”

I smile slightly, understanding her need for distraction. “Alright, let me tell you about the first time I really embarrassed myself in front of my crush,” I begin, noticing her interest peak amidst the discomfort. “Anoldcrush?” she asks, her eyebrows knitting together.

“Yes, I was about fourteen, and me and some friends from school were atPlanege Beaue Riavge, it’s a beach club in Nice,” I say, and her eyes widen in shock.

“You were just casually hanging out at beach clubs at fourteen?”

“One of my friend’s fathers owned it back then, so we hung out there as much as we could after school and between my corporate lessons with Ammo Antoine.”

Sophie's expression mixes surprise with amusement. “You were living the high life at fourteen, huh?” she teases, wincing as the tattoo artist continues his work.

I laugh, the sound echoing softly in the small studio we found tucked away in an alley off the main street—Lucas will kill me when he finds out I got another tattoo at some back alley parlor, but these ones are just the best.

“It sounds fancier than it was. Really, we were just a bunch of kids getting into trouble, thinking we were cooler than we were.” I pause, recalling the vivid details of that sun-drenched afternoon.

“Anyway, there was this girl, Manon. She was beautiful, confident, and completely out of my league. But I was determined to impress her.”

Sophie’s laughter trickles out, mingled with a slight grimace as the needle continues its work. “Let me guess, it didn’t go as planned?”

“Not even close.” I chuckle, shaking my head at the memory. “I decided I’d show off my diving skills. During that time, they had put up a diving platform further into the ocean. There were three diving points.”

I continue, the memory growing clearer as I describe the scene, “The first was pretty low, easy for beginners. The second was a bit of a challenge, and the third, well, that was for the daredevils—way higher than most people would dare.”

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