Page 19 of Old Money

And when she walks out of her room in a long black dress that ties around her neck, I want to kick myself. How the fuck am I supposed to focus onnotfucking her when she looks likethis?

“Wow,” I say as I stand up. She swallows as she looks up at me.

“Is this okay? I don’t really have anything else nice.” I take a step closer to her, breathing her in and eyeing her from head to toe.

“It’s perfect,” I say, holding my hand out toward the door.

Tyler drives us about a half-hour outside of town to a favorite restaurant of mine, this little spot with a lot of private booths. We called ahead, so they take us to our table as soon as we get there, and we go unnoticed.

I order a bottle of wine for the table and a few appetizers. She picks at them while she looks at the menu.

“Sixty bucks for one steak? Jesus,” she says under her breath, and I laugh.

“You’re not paying, so it doesn’t matter,” I say. I see her go to open her mouth, and I stop her. “Sawyer, Everett Enterprises brings in over four hundred thousand dollars every single minute. Do me a favor. When you’re with me, let yourself forget about money. Deal?”

Her eyes are as big as saucers, and she swallows. She bites her bottom lip then clears her throat.

“In that case,” she says, “I’ll get the lobster.” She smiles, and I laugh again. God, I want her. After we put our orders in, she turns her body toward me and takes another sip of her wine.

“Okay,” she says. “Tell me what growing up Everett was like.”

I smile as I take another sip myself.

“You said you did the research,” I say. I hate talking about my family. One, because there are already so many narratives that have been floating around for over a century about us. Two, because I’m not particularly proud of some of my family’s history—or present, for that matter.

“I did,” she says. “But I’m asking you. Tell me what it was like.”

I sigh as I look at her. I know she’s not going to let this go, and for some reason, I don’t feel as uncomfortable as normal about sharing it.

“It was a dream in a lot of ways. Palatial homes in ten different countries, celebrity parties, all the things you can imagine are true. But it all comes at a cost. You don’t get to be king of the world without losing some things.”

She looks back at me intently.

“What did you lose?” she asks.

“The right to anonymity, for one thing,” I chuckle. She gives me a pity smile, but I know she’s waiting for more. “Nothing is sacred, nothing is private. The money always comes first. And you learn quickly that if it came down to the money or you, your parents would choose the money. Money over everything.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she studies me, and suddenly, I’m aware that I just shared more with her than I have with anyone else. And it’s a foreign feeling.

Just as I’m about to change the subject, I see two people approaching our table out of the corner of my eye.

Fuck.

“Julian,” the woman says. I clear my throat as I stand up. I was really hoping I would never run into her again…or her husband.

“Ana,” I say as we stand awkwardly for a moment before she goes in for the double cheek kiss. Doug appears from behind her, awkwardly sticking out a hand for me to shake. “How have you all been?”

Ana looks at me, then to Sawyer, then back to me, an eyebrow raised.

“We’ve been well,” Doug says sheepishly from behind her. I nod.

“We were expecting, uh…to hear from you,” Ana says, her eyes trailing back to Sawyer. “But it appears you’ve been busy.” She laughs nervously, but I don’t. I scoot slightly closer to Sawyer, as if that could protect her from this.

“Busy, indeed,” I say, giving her a look. She signed an NDA, and this conversation is technically going against it. When she senses that the air is a little less friendly, she clears her throat and smiles again.

“Right, well, I’ll let you get back to your evening,” she says. “Let’s go, Doug. It was great to see you again, Julian.”

“Have a good evening,” I say as they walk by us, and I take my seat again.

---