“While I appreciate that, George, you were around when I was raising Remi. You know I made more mistakes than I can count.”
“Sure, but you always did what was best for your sister because you made those decisions out of love. Those are the hardest decisions to make.” His expression turned serious, and he said, “You know, we don’t get a lot of chances to grab hold of the brass ring and run with it. I’m too old to change my ways, but you’re still young enough to jump into something new with both feet.”
“Funny, I don’t feel young.” Although that wasn’t quite true. With Abby, he felt spry and excited about everything he did. Whether that was feeling young, or falling in love, he wasn’t sure, but it felt fucking fantastic.
“Trust me, you’re young,” George said. “I remember something else your father said to me once. I was deciding if I should branch out in a new direction, and he said, ‘I’m quite certain if you really think about what you want, you’ll see there’s only one right answer, and it’s been there all along, waiting for you to accept it.’ Your father was right. I had known what I wanted to do all along. I had only been seeking validation because like you, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t fuck it up.”
“What did you do?”
“I believed in myself and took a leap of faith. That was the year we tripled our earnings.” He rested his head back and closed his eyes again. “I haven’t thought of that moment in years. I sure treasured your old man’s friendship.”
“So did I,” Aiden said.
When it came to business, Aiden had never had concerns about making the right choices. But now he wondered if what was the right decision one day could be the wrong one the next.
He’d never been good at leaps of faith, but he believed in himself and in his feelings for Abby. He liked the man he was when he was with her. Hell, he liked the whole world a lot more when he was with her. She made him want to live a brighter life, to explore and see her light up with every new discovery. He had less than two weeks left with Abby before he headed overseas and back into the daily grind, spending twelve or more hours each day focused on work. He’d never been able to strike a balance between his personal life and his business life because he’d never wanted a personal life.
Until now.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t find a balance. He just needed to figure out how.
He looked at Remi’s picture on his phone, and her words came back to him. Isn’t that the whole reason you and Ben groomed Garth and Miller to take over?
Well, fuck him sideways. His little sister was right.
He thumbed out a text and sent it to Remi. You were right, smarty-pants.
Then he composed another text message, one he should have taken care of days ago.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THURSDAY MORNING STEVIE Nicks blared from the boom box as they painted the interior of the Bistro. Abby swung her hips to “Edge of Seventeen,” painting the corner of a wall while Brant used the roller. He and Grant had arrived bright and early, sporting baseball caps, T-shirts, and cargo shorts and armed with a pressure washer and extra paintbrushes. They’d been hard at work painting ever since.
Abby glanced at Brant’s slanted brows and intense look of concentration and said, “How can you stand still with this song playing?”
He pushed the roller up the wall and said, “I assumed you wanted us to do a good job to go along with the rest of the work you’ve had done.”
The Wickeds had done an excellent job. The granite countertop they’d chosen was worth every penny, and the pass-through to the kitchen and the ordering window on the side of the building made the Bistro feel even more open. Those additions, along with the bright white they were using for the walls, the ocean-blue trim to match the logo, and the colorful mural Cait had started painting gave the restaurant a fresh, welcoming vibe. She couldn’t wait for Aiden to see all the changes when he returned tomorrow night.
“Unless you’d rather I paint all willy-nilly like someone else is doing.” Brant eyed the area she was painting.
“I’m not painting willy-nilly,” she said sharply. She couldn’t help it if she’d been jumpy since yesterday afternoon. Every time she stood in one place for too long, she’d start thinking about Aiden. Not only did that make her miss him more, but it inevitably brought her thoughts to the following Sunday, when he was leaving again—only this time for good, returning to his real life. She’d tried to counter the ache of missing him by keeping herself busy. But then last night she’d lain in bed overthinking everything from how little time they had left together to what it would be like when he went back to work for good. Would she be like this the whole time they were apart? How would she survive that? And those thoughts made her uncomfortable because she wasn’t a needy person. She’d been up half the night, which had left her jittery, like she’d guzzled too much coffee, and she’d been going back and forth painting three different areas of the restaurant to use up her nervous energy. Two more days, she told herself. Just two more days and he’d be back.
And now she was thinking about Aiden again.
Needing a distraction, Abby continued shaking her booty, and called over her shoulder to Cait, who was hard at work on the mural, “I can paint and dance. Right, Cait?”
“Depends how you define painting.” Cait looked cute in what she called her painting jeans. They had tears in the thighs, a hole in one knee, and paint speckles and smears from previous creations. Her black sneakers also showed proof of her experience.
Cait hadn’t made it sound like she painted very often, but she was clearly at home behind a paintbrush. She hadn’t even drawn the mural on the wall before jumping in and starting with Abby’s father’s face. It took Abby’s breath away to see him brought to life within these walls.
Brant set the roller down and straightened his ball cap as he sauntered over to Cait and asked, “Where are you going to fit me in?”
Cait kept her eyes trained on the area she was painting. “It’s going to be a picture of the Bistro, not the marina. Olivier is here.” She pointed to different areas of the wall as she spoke. “Ava will be there, with me, Abby, and Deirdra. I was going to put a few tables back here and a little of the beach over here, but the other people will be out of focus.”
Brant put his back to the wall beside where she was painting, so she had no choice but to look at him, and said, “Show me where you’re going to be, again.”
She pointed to an area to her left.
“Then I want to be here.” He put his finger on a spot beside the one she’d shown him. “You can paint me in my bathing suit. I can take my shirt off and model for you.”
“No,” Cait said flatly, without looking in his direction.
“Would you prefer I’m in my birthday suit?” Brant asked. “Because I’ve got a really hot one.”
Cait’s head snapped in his direction. “You’re messing up my mojo,” she said breathily. “Go paint or jump in the ocean. Just get away from me.”
Brant grinned and went back to painting.
“Dancing Queen” came on, and Abby twirled across the room to paint with Grant. She sang and danced, bumping against his hip in time to the beat. “I’m so thankful that you guys came to help.” Bump, bump. “I never had friends like this in New York.” Bump, bump. “I’m so glad to be back.” Bump, bump, twirl.