Page 25 of Built to Last

“He did that to spare you,” Jeremiah says. “Britta can be…mean is too small a word. Apocalyptic when she wants to be. He didn’t want you in the middle of that fight.”

“Did he think I was too fragile to handle one supermodel? I assure you I had already handled one obnoxious woman for him that night. I could have done it again.” And honestly, the sex when I was filled with that kind of adrenaline would have been spectacular. I enjoy taking down assholes. It’s a good triumphing over evil thing. Again with the romance novels. I should switch to mysteries or something. At least they would teach me valuable, usable information. Like how to murder my enemies and get away with it.

“I didn’t handle it right. I saw her and I kind of freaked out,” he admits. “I thought it was over. I know how bad it can get and how Reid can get. Dark. He’s been so much happier lately. I didn’t want him to go back. She can talk him into things.”

Most stunningly gorgeous blondes can do that. It’s good to remember that Reid Dorsey is a man like all the rest. He talks a good game, but in the end he’ll want the sexiest woman he can find. And that is not the woman who walks around with a tool belt on most of the time. I need to get out of this conversation. I need to hold myself apart from Reid, and that means being professional. Maybe this was why their show shut down. Maybe he was so distracted by Britta, he forgot to do his job. Yes, this is what I should actually be worried about. After all, he didn’t exactly send her away. There was a picture of them sitting in a sundrenched café looking awfully comfy the next day.

Did she spend the night with him?

Suspicion is rattling around in my head. Is Jeremiah telling me what he thinks I want to hear so filming goes smoothly? How often does he have to smooth over things for his brother? An unwilling sympathy hits me. I can understand what that means. I watched my uncle walk around after my dad, making sure he didn’t do any permanent damage. It’s hard to be the one who cleans up all the messes. I had to do a bit of that as well. “It’s all okay. I’m not mad. I think it’s good that we didn’t do something we couldn’t take back. We have to work together. It’s always a bad idea to mix business and pleasure.”

His expression falls and he sighs. “I’m not going to get through to you, am I?”

“There’s nothing to get through to.” I’m not sure exactly what he wants. I’ve told him we’ll work fine together. “It’s all going to be okay. We’ve got a great job coming up, and we’ll have fun. Should we expect Britta to show up on set? If so, we should inform Patrick. He’s going to be running production. Grumpy guy, but good at his job. However, he doesn’t like surprises.”

“Well, I’ll do my level best to ensure there are no surprises.” Jeremiah stands and straightens his jacket. I can’t help but notice the deep disappointment in his expression. “We’re having a dinner party to welcome Anika and Luca back home. I don’t suppose you want to come? It’s on Friday.”

We start filming Monday. I have a lot of preparations to make. We’re all having dinner at Lydia’s Saturday night, so skipping the Dorsey brothers’ party won’t keep me from seeing my bestie. “Thank you, but I have a lot to do before Monday. Do you know when you’re going to give me the initial designs on the ballroom?”

We’re working our way through the house. I’ve already done some of the more non-interesting work like ensuring the plumbing in the powder room makes it into this century’s standards. The ballroom is our first big project, and Anika wants us to be as organic about the process as we can. So I’m basically walking in Monday and hopefully not discovering anything tragic. But I would like to know what the brothers are thinking.

“I’ll send over the files as soon as they’re ready. He’s working on it right now. He’s kind of burying himself in work. Well, I’ll see you on Monday then.” He gives me a nod and starts for the door. He’s almost out when he turns and looks my way. “Your mother is wrong, of course.”

“Always.” But I have questions. “But what specifically are you talking about?”

“Your friends are your family,” he says quietly. “Those women she thinks you’re wasting your time on when you could be hanging with Cousin Susie or whatever, they’re your sisters. They’re the people you live your life with. They don’t have to share some magical amount of DNA.”

“I find that interesting coming from a man whose best friend is his brother.”

His lips turn up in a rueful grin. “Well, part of it comes from trauma bonding. You survive some of the stuff we have and you kind of cling to the life raft that got you through. I just thought it was interesting that you’re going through something similar to me and Reid. You have parents who didn’t treat you as well as they should have.”

“They weren’t like your father. There wasn’t neglect. Sometimes I wished they weren’t all up in my business.” At least my mom and dad had been there. Mostly.

And yet when I need advice now and I want some wisdom, I find myself on Lydia Marino’s doorstep. When I need someone to tell me I can do it, Diane has become my go to since therapy taught her all the right words to say.

When I need some cash or a backhanded compliment, I go to CeCe.

“I know. Our parents damage us even when they don’t mean to. It’s inevitable, but you found a family, Harper. You’re a good sister,” he says. “I enjoyed spending time with your friends, but that’s what I got out of it. You function like a family, and it’s a beautiful thing to be with the people you pick. So when your mother complains you’re not spending time with family, you are. With her behavior, she’s chosen not to be a part of it.” He sighs. “See you Monday.”

He walks away and I’m left with the desire to ask him to stay, to explain it all to me better because he’s right about one thing. He and Reid felt like they fit with us.

And my mother is choosing to not be a part of my life because she doesn’t understand what it means to be me. I’d kind of like to talk to him about that, too. The last person I talked to about my parents was his brother, and for that moment, I felt like one person in the world truly understood. Naturally it was Reid and it was all a lie.

But I sit and get back to work because I have to deal with my blood family and this business they entrusted me with.

Reid Dorsey will have to wait.

Chapter Nine

Four days later I stand outside the gorgeous, high-tech building where Reid Dorsey lives and makes his plans to ruin the world and all of the beautiful things in it. And history. This is where the fucker plots and plans to shove all history aside in exchange for turning Banover Place into some kind of spa. I don’t even understand half of what this man is expecting me to do to that poor multimillion-dollar work of art and history.

I only know I can’t let him do it.

This is not what Anika signed him up for. I have to stop this crap before we start work on Monday.

“You’re one of Mr. Dorsey’s guests?” Naturally this isn’t the kind of building where one simply buzzes in or waits until someone else does and slips inside. Nope. There’s real security and everything. An older man in a crisp blue suit stands behind the security desk, bringing his glasses up and staring at the screen. He frowns. “I show them all checked in.”

The words don’t mean anything to me. If he’s got Britta up there or is having a party with all his uber-rich friends, then they can get an earful, too. It will serve him right. “I’m a coworker of his. It’s an emergency.”

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