Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
James swallowed and averted his eyes. He wanted to deny it but couldn’t. He didn’t like the person he was becoming: someone who constantly lied to hide his feelings, someone who put on a smile when he felt like punching people or curling up and crying like a baby. Someone who felt sick and bitter watching the person he loved be happy.
Wasn’t love supposed to be selfless? He was better than that. Wasn’t he?
Wasn’t he?
James looked at Tristan. “Why are you helping me? Why are you so nice all of a sudden?”
A faint smile touched Tristan’s face. “I’m not being nice. To be honest, I find it hilarious that you, of all people…” He looked over James’s shoulder, presumably at Zach, and his expression softened and warmed. “But I’m trying to be a better person. It’s still a work in progress, but it’s easier to be a better person when you’re happy.” He looked back at James. “Bitterness and jealousy are my old friends. Trust me, the longer you know them intimately, the uglier it gets. Cut your losses now.”
James opened the door and left without saying a word.
Outside, a cold gust of November wind blew into his face, biting at his skin and making his eyes water.
Chapter 7
“You look terrible, James.”
James looked up from the cup of tea he was nursing. His mother was eyeing him speculatively. She certainly didn’t look terrible. As usual, not a hair was out of place, her long blond locks perfectly coiffed.
“I haven’t slept well,” James admitted. He had thought about Tristan’s words the entire night. He hadn’t come to any decision, and his own indecisiveness frustrated him.
“I’m not surprised,” Barbara said with a sharp look at her husband seated at the other end of the table. “Your father doesn’t understand that you’re still a young man who needs regular working hours and rest—”
“Do not coddle him, Barbara,” Arthur Grayson said coldly, without looking up from his newspaper. “He’s hardly a boy. He’s twenty-two years old, and it’s time for him to assume some responsibility in the family business.”
“If you knew your son at all, you would know he isn’t interested in the family business,” Barbara retorted.
“He’s a Grayson,” Arthur said.
“And I regret it every day,” Barbara muttered loud enough for Arthur to hear.
Arthur simply raised a graying eyebrow, his sharp eyes pausing on his wife before settling on his son. James straightened in his chair. Arthur said nothing for a moment, simply regarding him in silence.
“James, I will be at the Palace of Westminster until afternoon,” he said at last. “I’m sure you can handle the meeting with Richard Whitford without me.”
James tried and failed to suppress a grimace. Business negotiations had never been his strongest suit, and Richard Whitford, the billionaire and owner of Whitford Industries, wasn’t an easy man to deal with.
Barbara said, “Don’t make that face, darling. You’ll get early wrinkles.” Turning to Arthur, she bit out, “You cannot be serious. That man is a criminal. James should not be handling him on his own.”
Usually James hated his mother’s overbearing coddling, but this time he welcomed it. He was in no state of mind to deal with Richard Whitford now.
However, Arthur was undeterred. “James should learn to deal with such men without my holding his hand. Besides, James is friends with his son. That should make everything easier.”
Barbara laughed. “That shows how clueless you are. Luke is a sweet boy, but he bears little resemblance to his criminal of a father.”
“Whitford is not a criminal. He’s one of the wealthiest men in Europe.”
Barbara snorted. “He has dealings with the Italian and Russian mafia. Everyone knows it.”
“Until it’s proven otherwise, it is nothing but a malicious rumor,” Arthur said. “And cease interfering in business matters. They don’t concern you.”
“Everything that concerns my son concerns me.”
“I’m sure James would disagree with it. James?”
“Yes, honey, tell your father that your mother is right.”
James wished he could clamp his hands over his ears and pretend this wasn’t happening.
He looked from one parent to the other. With a sinking feeling, he realized they held absolutely no affection for each other anymore. They used to; but now there was nothing left but hostility and bitterness.
He didn’t want to be like them.
He didn’t want to turn into them.
James stood up and said, “I have to go.”
Ignoring his parents, he strode out of the room—out of the house—and got into his car.
He knew it was Ryan’s day off. He would likely still be at Zach’s place, maybe even asleep. It wasn’t ideal, but he couldn’t wait any longer. If he did, he would lose his nerve.
Maybe the truth would destroy their friendship. Maybe. Probably. But it was still better than emulating his parents’ example and turning into a bitter person living a lie.
He couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
Chapter 8
“Ryan, get up.”
Ryan burrowed deeper into the pillows. “Shut the door from the other side. I’m sleeping till noon. It’s my day off.”