Page 108 of Marrying the Billionaire

“You know, um, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while. Like a serious talk.”

“Yeah?” He sobers, taking a seat next to me. People mill around near us, but no one’s close enough to overhear.

“Serena convinced me to go to a therapist.” His brows raise, but he stays quiet, allowing me to continue. “I’m letting myself think about Mom lately.” The subject still makes my chest ache, but it’s manageable now.

“What about her?”

I grab my glass of champagne, taking a sip to ease my parched throat. “I don’t know if she ever told you or Connor, but before she passed, she asked me to take care of you two. I wasn’t… well, you remember. I didn’t want to talk to anyone for a while.”

“I remember,” he whispers.

“My therapist says I have incomplete grief.” I shrug. “I’m working on it. But, um, I know I dropped the ball. I wasn’t there to take care of you like I promised. And I’m sorry.”

He stares at me, a strange look on his face. “Have you been worrying about that?”

“It was my responsibility. And I left you to deal with things on your own.”

“Archer, you were a grieving teenager, the same as me. No one expected you to actually take care of us.”

That’s the same thing Serena said when I confessed to her. “But I promised Mom.”

“That’s just something you say to a dying person. The one who dropped the ball was Dad. Not you.”

“He was busy-”

“Bullshit.” His voice rises, the couple at the table next to us glancing over in concern. “Too busy to deal with three grief-stricken sons who had just lost their mother to cancer? Nah. I don’t buy it. He should have made time, not pawn us off on hired help and hope we figure it out for ourselves.”

I’ve never witnessed this kind of intensity from him before. He’s always been the one to make a joke and brush things off. “Gabriel, I-” I don’t know what to say.

He lets out a long breath, his body relaxing. “Sorry, I’m done getting worked up over him. But Connor and I never blamed you for any of it.”

“Okay.” I’m not sure how else to respond.

“Seriously. Don’t blame yourself.”

I firm my mouth, my eyes blurring the slightest bit as I stare down at the tablecloth. Maybe this was the wrong place to have this conversation.

“The three of us did our best. It’s in the past now.”

I nod, getting myself under control again before looking up and spotting Serena still across the room, smiling as she and Wendy chat with a woman I recognize as a local philanthropist.

“You’re not a robot anymore, huh, Archie?”

I roll my eyes, appreciating his attempt at humor to make me feel better. “No, I’m not.” I won’t close myself off again. Not after experiencing what things are like when I open up.

He claps me on the back, opening his mouth to say something else, but his phone cuts him off, trilling from inside his pocket. “Duty calls,” he says, excusing himself.

I’m barely alone a minute before I’m ambushed by two people I thought I’d shaken. Harlan and Courtney Nash.

“Archer, my man,” Harlan says jovially, sticking his hand out for me to shake. “I’ve been trying to call you forever. I guess it’s not going through.” Yeah, because I don’t have that phone number anymore.

“It’s been a hectic month,” I reply, not wanting to go into the details with him.

“I heard you’re not working for your Dad.”

It’s not a secret I’m no longer with Bishop Industries, but we’re not advertising it either. “That’s right.”

“Well, I know you said you weren’t interested in appearing onNash Villebefore, but now that things have changed, I thought we’d extend the offer again.”

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