Chapter 13
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JORDAN
1 spoon some spaghetti onto my plate and raise my gaze to meet Peter. “A lot of things have changed. I was driving along Palm Avenue the other day, and I couldn’t find the drive–thru. Did he move or something?”
Peter chuckles. “Sam. He got married and bought a restaurant.”
“Oh.” I say with a small frown.
“You sound disappointed. I can take you to his new place sometime.”
“No, I found a new spot.”
“You’re lucky you have an iron–cast stomach. I can’t bear to eat half the things you throw into your mouth.”
I shake my head. “Anna was adventurous. She made me try out a lot of cuisines and encouraged me to be reckless.”
Peter throws back his head and laughs. The sound attracts the attention of half the people at the long table, including the blonde with piercing blue
eyes.
“You’re distracting everyone. This isn’t high school, man.”
He cups his palm over his mouth and glances around the table. I chuckle and watch him through the rim of my water glass. Peter might be 47 years old, but he’s no different from the boy I grew up with. It’s a miracle his daughter is strong–willed and tough – nothing like him.
“Do you like the party?” He asks after he has regained composure.
“I love it. It’s good to meet everyone again and in the same room, at the same time.” I take a sip of water and clear my throat. “You know, I searched everywhere for you. At some point, I was afraid you had relocated. Did it ever cross your mind?”
“What? Relocating?” His brows knot in a thoughtful expression.
“Yes.”
He shakes his head quickly. “No. I love New York. Stella and I are planning on buying another house on South Groove. She wants to be closer to our
daughter.”
“Astrid?” Merely voicing her name makes my heart skip.
She’s three seats away from me, staring at her plate of food while halfheartedly paying attention to the man beside her. I say half–heartedly because she keeps darting her gaze around distractedly as if she is looking for a way to escape.
I turn back to Peter to catch a frown, crossing his boyish face. “Of course. She’s my only child, Jordan.”
“I’m sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you have a grown–up daughter, one that’s smart and fierce.”
He laughs. “You gathered that just from meeting her for a few minutes?”
“You know, I can see through anyone in mere seconds.”
He leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Well, keep it down. She’s not going to appreciate your talent.”
“She’s got claws?” I ask even though I already know the answer. Astrid might be Twenty–One–years–old, but she’s got a spunk that’s unmatched by most women way above her age.
“Yes. You’re right about her being fierce. I fear for that young man she’s dating.”
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Chapter 13
tpause as his words echo in my ears. That night, Astrid told me she had broken up with her boyfriend. Did she lie about it, or have they gotten back together?
“He’s right beside her. Look at him, tell me if he’s good enough for her.” Peter goes on to say.
“Why do you want me to do that? How long have they been dating?”
*Two years. And I just need your opinion. We may be old, rich, and famous, but we are still the same people we were forty years ago. The same people we were in college.”
I’m not. Anna’s death almost drowned me. It changed me. “A lot has changed, Peter. I channel all my energy into work, and that’s the only thing that has kept me afloat.”
“No women? Who takes care of your needs?”
“Have you ever been so tired that the only thing you want to do is sleep all day and dream about nothing? That’s how it’s been for me after Anna died. At the end of the day, after toiling at the office, I crawl into bed and sleep until my alarm announces a new day. I work out a lot, too.”
“Are you happy? It’s been nineteen years, and man, don’t you think you need to take a break? You work too hard.” Peter says in the same tone he often uses to draw me out of my shell.
Am I happy? To some, that question might sound like nothing. It’s not the same for me. Happiness has been the last thing I bother with for the past nineteen years. I just focus on living, taking it one day at a time. “Let’s just enjoy the party. We’ll revisit this another day.”
“Are you sure? I know you just got back, but I’m just concerned.”
I pat his arm while offering him a brief nod. “I know, and I’m happy. I’ve missed you, man.”
He places his hand over mine, and for the first time since we reconnected, I gauge relief in my best friend’s eyes.
“It’s good to have you back.” A wide grin touches his lips, and then his gaze tilts upwards, fixing behind me. “Dinner’s over. Come, I have something to show you before you get swarmed.”
I follow his line of sight. As if to wring me further, my gaze cuts through the guests rising from their chairs and settling on Astrid. I was able to brush off the image of her from my mind when I couldn’t put a name to the face. Now, I can’t seem to focus on anything else except her.
“Hurry up! I think that brunette got her eyes on you.” Peter says, tugging me to the door at the back of the room. It’s like high school again when we used to sneak into the basement and play games or stalk girls on social media.
“Tell me about your daughter,” I yell over the noise.
“Astrid. She’s just like her mother, but recently, I’ve noticed she’s crawled into this hole. It’s like she’s avoiding the rest of the world. The other day, I overheard her and her mother arguing about something. It had to do with the guest list. That was something she used to love doing. She loved parties. She loved planning them with Stella. And now, she hates it. I heard it’s now from work to her penthouse, then she visits this cafe across her street
sometimes.”
“Have you spoken to her? She might be dealing with something.”
His gaze flickers to Astrid. “I’ll invite her to dinner sometime. You could come too, a perfect chance to bond with your goddaughter.”
The steady thud of footsteps on the pavement announces the presence of someone else out on the patio. But I don’t glance back, knowing it is Astrid from the intoxicating scent of her perfume and the thump–thump sound vibrating in my chest. She appears to be troubled, and her clutch is firmly
tucked under her arm.
“Astrid.”
No answer. Is she going to pretend she can’t see me and just walk by without a word? After she has taken a few steps past me, she stops and swirls
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Chapter 13
around slowly, her blue eyes hot under the collar.
21 was just going to leave. Pretend tonight never happened. Why did you have to call me back?”
“I told you we need to talk. Did you forget that? I’ve been trying to get your attention since after dinner, but you kept on brushing me off.”
“And you failed to realize that I do not want to talk to you! I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Remington.”
“I have so much to say to you. Can you at least listen?”
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She sucks in her cheeks and then raises her gaze to meet mine hard–on. “I feel terrible that I had sex with you that night at the club, and I know you feel the same way because my father is your best friend. However, the last thing I want to do is stand here or anywhere else and listen to you talk about what has already been done.”
“I don’t regret the time we spent together, Astrid,” I say hotly, wondering how she came to such conclusions. “I feel bad, yes. But that’s because your father is my best friend.”
“So, are you saying you’ll see me again?” Hope weaves through her words.
My head snaps up so fast that I almost crack a nerve. She smirks and takes a step closer to me, forcing me to take several steps backwards. Her eyes are no longer brimming with anger. They’re welling up with lust.
I need to find a way to tell her that we can’t go any further. Peter will be devastated if he gets to know about what we’ve done, and we will only be digging our grave deeper if we keep it up.
The last thing I want to do is hurt Astrid. I don’t want her to hate me. Didn’t Peter mention something about me being her godfather? Damn! This is really messed up.
My back hits a hard surface. I release a sigh and skim my eyes over the stunning woman closing the gap between our bodies, her eyes glued to my face.
I’d give anything to taste those lips right now. Anything at all, except my friendship with her father.
Peter and I have come a long way, and the last thing I ever want to do is jeopardize the bond we share, not after we just reconnected.
“Go on, say it.” She comes to an abrupt halt. “Tell me you wish we never met. Tell me you regret it. Go on! Damn it!”
“I don’t regret it. But you must know that I do not wish to cross that line anymore. I don’t want to hurt your father, my best friend. I’m – ”
She cuts me off. “It seems very strange that you can stand there and say those words to me after what I’ve been through. You left without a trace. No name. Zilch.”
“It was just sex.” I blurt, exasperated. Why in God’s name is she making a big deal out of something we can just resolve without breaking a sweat?
Her mood becomes darker. I notice a vague regret in her expression, and then she smirks before spinning on her heels
I pull my gaze from the moving bodies in the hall to her retreating figure. A heaviness nestles in my chest, and for a moment, the pain that flickered in her eyes spears through it, and I find it a bit difficult to expel the heaviness clogging my mind.
“Astr
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