Page 39 of Wilder at Heart
‘Not me, smart arse. The whole concept of using blockchain technology for art. Sadly, I can’t take credit for coming up with it. Wish I could.’
I mop up a dollop of egg with my bread. ‘So, that all sounds like it keeps you busy. Why d’you want in on the hotel business?’
He cocks his head, considering. ‘I earned the reputation for being the work-shy Montague. Fairly. Mum and Dad have spent forty years working themselves to the bone. Miles is a psycho. And Stephen’s always been driven by this starry-eyed certainty that his purpose in life is to help others. Whereas I’ll admit I liked the lifestyle. The trust fund. After uni, I took a gap year that turned into two. I wasn’t hungry. And I didn’t want to turn into my parents or Miles. I didn’t want to be a cliché, going into the family business, though it turns out being the useless middle kid who rips through his trust fund is even more of a cliché.
‘But I started dabbling in some ventures. Made some mistakes. Made some money. Then more. And I realised I was developing an appetite for it. For ideas, stories, for the rush that comes with taking a risk on something you believe in, and putting in the work, and having it pay off. I like building things. Turns out, I’m more like my parents than I care to admit.’
‘You’re naturally entrepreneurial,’ I tell him. ‘You’re like them in that respect. And you’re not afraid to go it alone. So I still don’t get why you want in on the hotel business. It sounds so different from the stuff you said floats your boat—the stuff you’re involved with now.’
‘That’s how I always saw it.’
He hugs his mug of tea, not meeting my eye. The eyelashes that brush his cheeks are plain indecent: mascara-model-level indecent. I refocus on what he’s saying.
‘Boring sector, but cyclical—the worst of both worlds. Massive assets that are as hard to turn around as the Titanic. It just struck me as staid. But there are some cool people out there doing interesting things, making those assets work harder, and I can’t help but think I could bring something to the table precisely because I’ve had more distance from the sector than the rest of them have. I dabble in other industries. I like to think I keep my finger on the pulse of what’s happening with society—more than Miles does, at any rate—so I think that perspective could be valuable.’
‘It’s a challenge.’ I shrug. ‘I get it. Who doesn’t like a challenge? But do they not see this value? Do they not see how stupid it’d be not to listen to your opinion?’
He gives me a tight smile. ‘I’m not sure they see value when they think of me. And the message I’ve had from them all, loud and clear, is that I haven’t earned the right to speak up because I haven’t put in the years with the firm. So I need to worm myway in enough that they’ll listen to my ideas, even if they won’t give me a seat at the table just yet. There has to be another way.’
We’ve both finished our breakfast. I go to take his plate and stack it with mine, but he stops me. ‘Let me.’
‘Thanks. And Manhattan’s the area you’ve identified as having the most potential?’
‘Yeah.’ He rounds the island and proceeds to stack the dishwasher. ‘Well, that, and the fact that it’s far enough from my family that I could actually enjoy some autonomy. And I have lots of mates out there, in a variety of fields. Bankers, entrepreneurs, artists, socialites: I’d have a better shot than anyone else in the family of being able to make some bold decisions for the hotels and have a fighting chance of them succeeding.’
‘What about your other businesses?’
‘It’s all about how I use my time, angel. I have no intention of being chained to my desk twenty four-seven like my brother is—or like he was before he met Saoirse and found a far more enjoyable way to spend his time. I like a portfolio career approach. I get bored otherwise. But I’m a big believer in hiring people who can do shit that’s not a good use of my time. So I can stay involved in the wine stuff and the gallery from wherever I am, because I delegate. Something it looks like you might benefit from, from the amount of time I’ve seen you spend buried in those spreadsheets.’
He’s right. I’m so terrified of ceding control, because it’s my name on my company and every wedding is my baby. I’m also terrified of putting more full-time staff on my payroll. At the moment, my business doesn’t need much capital beyond man hours. And the more I can do myself, the more stable the business is and the higher my profit margin is. Unless I run myself into the ground first.
‘You could be right,’ I say drily.
‘I want to hear all about your business on the way down. I want to understand more about how it works.’
I slide off my bar stool. ‘It’s not rocket science, but okay.’
‘Don’t sell yourself short. I bet it’s the stuff logistical nightmares are made of, and it’s like herding cats on top of that. If you can deal with brides, you deserve all the luck in the world.’
‘Again, you’re not wrong.’
He grins at me teasingly, and our eyes lock. ‘You ready to go in five? Ready to spend the day holding hands and looking loved up?’
In response, I point two fingers at my temple and mime pulling the trigger.
‘Such a sweetheart. Not sure how I got so lucky. You know, Josh told me the other day that when he and Elle started out doing sex scenes, they had to hold eye contact in silence for a minute beforehand to develop trust and intimacy. Obviously, now everyone knows they’re banging each other’s brains out, they’ve ditched that little ice breaker.’ He waggles his shapely eyebrows at me. ‘But maybe we should try it.’
‘Romeo. One. We’re not shooting any sex scenes any time soon. Two. Our “intimacy” will be limited to hand-holding where absolutely necessary to keep this charade up in front of your brother. And three. It would take far more than a minute of eye contact for me to trust you.’
Four. If I have to look into those dark, decadent pools of immorality and have the filth that’s in your mind reflected back at me, I may swoon so hard I’ll need a strong pair of arms and some smelling salts.
CHAPTER 16
Nora
It’s pretty nice to be bombing down to Kent in Theo’s red sports car, instead of having to cadge a lift from the lovebirds. We’re due for our meeting with Evelyn at eleven, and Waze tells us it should take just over an hour to get there. It’s a beautiful day, and my little Olive is snoozing in her soft car crate in the back seat. All is good with the world.
Despite extensive online drooling over Sorrel Farm, I’ve never been there. If Jonathan and I got away together, it was usually in the direction of the Cotswolds. Maybe I should persuade Elle to do a spa day there with me. I have a horrible feeling she won’t be on this side of the Atlantic for much longer once they wrapGrosvenorat the end of the summer. She mentioned at the family lunch that she and Josh will be recording voiceovers for the latest Pixar movie in Hollywood later this year, and I don’t see her coming back.
