My tone turned hushed. "That was the inference."
"But Wintersen didn’t come onto you," Jen reasoned. "You came onto him. He never did anything against you like he did the other women, your friends, right?"
"Yeah, he left me alone."
She grunted. "Okay, so you reconnected recently—"
"Last night."
"You had sex, and what? You’re questioning the universe? You really need to stop that, honey. Just accept the orgasm and get on with your life."
"We’re going to be stuck together throughout these exposés."
She paused. "The O’Donnellys are protecting you?"
I knew she wasn’t aware of the repercussions of my exposés. Though she’d been raised in Hell’s Kitchen, and like any smart kid from that neighborhood, knew to leave the O’Donnellys well alone, she was just an average citizen.
Learning that her other friend was Finn O’Grady’s wife came as much of a shock to me as it did to Aidan. That Jen kept some things to herself was a given. I did the same, but that still surprised me. It also told me that Finn’s wife kept her in the dark about her husband’s business practices. Natural, but still, something to learn.
We all had our secrets.
Me included.
"They are."
"Why? Are you in danger?"
"Maybe. It’s just a precaution."
"Jesus, should you come tonight?"
"It’s in my building. I think it’ll be fine." I doubted Aidan would let me go if something changed between now and then.
"Are you sure?"
No. But... "I’m not going to miss out on meeting your mystery schmuck. Plus, if you spill margaritas in his lap, I want a front row seat."
"You’re so supportive."
I huffed out a laugh. "And you are? My feelings for Aidan are not induced from the contraceptive pill."
"Well, that’d make far more sense than instant love," she retorted, making me roll my eyes.
"If you say so. I’ll see you later, Jen. I gotta get going."
"Yeah, my lunch break’s over. Speak later, babe. And Savannah?"
"What?"
"If he makes you feel good, and not just with orgasms, then what’s the harm in seeing how things unfold, huh?
"It’s in your nature to overthink everything. It goes with the job, I guess. But you shouldn’t. Sometimes, you just have to embrace what’s happening and throw caution to the wind. Where’s the fun in life if you’re always second guessing everything?"
And as she put the phone down, I was reminded of my valedictorian speech. Her words and mine were similar enough that even though we were polar opposites, I was prodded into remembering why we were close friends. How something disingenuous had morphed into an all-out friendship.
Our thoughts sometimes, sometimes, aligned.
God help us both.
As I got back to work, my brain was whirring in many different directions, and I was actually glad when my asshole brother called. Until, of course, he spoke. Which made me remember why I wanted to smack him.
Repeatedly.
With one of his beloved Fenders—the one he’d grabbed at auction that had once been a part of some special project Bryan Adams was involved in.
"What do you want?" I sniped as I put him on FaceTime.
He glowered right back at me. "To speak to you."
"Why? I thought you made it abundantly clear that I was an idiot for sacrificing my career for something I believed in?"
"I can still love you if you’re an idiot. Mostly, I just want to know why the hell you’re not here."
"Because I didn’t want to see you," I retorted.
He huffed. "Savvie, come on. Don’t be stupid."
"Don’t you dare call me stupid," I snapped. "I’m not stupid just because we don’t agree on something.
"I told you, Camden, I wouldn’t put up with your bullshit anymore. You might be my big brother, and a million groupies might want to suck that skanky dick of yours, but I’m not going to let you belittle my beliefs."
He scowled. "I didn’t do that!"
"You totally did."
"You worked hard to reach that position." I really hadn’t. "I just hated to see you throw it away."
"Some sacrifices are worth making." I pursed my lips then, deciding to change the subject, I told him begrudgingly, "You look good." The last time I’d seen him, he’d been strung out on something I didn’t want to know about.
He shrugged. "It did me good to get away."
"I’d roll my eyes but I’d do it so hard that they’d never go back to being normal again. Did you really have to go to a monastery in Tibet for some R&R?"
"Hey, don’t knock it until you try it," he said with a smirk. "Although, you’d go crazy there. You can’t talk so you can’t ask any goddamn questions."
"Sounds like hell for sure," I agreed, smirking right back at him.
"Seriously though, you should come here. There’s still time. I’ll send the jet—you can be home tonight."
His eyes softened, and for an instant, I understood what it was that had millions of women around the world losing their sense and their panties even if I thought they were all crazy.
Camden was my dad reincarnate, only without all the good stuff Mom had bred into him over the years together. Just all the nasty rocker shit that made him questionable to touch without gloves.
"Please, sis."
If someone hadn’t tried to kill me, I’d probably have said yes, but instead, I shook my head. "Camden, I know you’ve been in Tibet so you haven’t read the news, but I’ve got a lot of shit going on right now that I don’t want to bring down on the family."
"Like what?" He frowned. "Are you in trouble?"
I shrugged. "It’s all good. But I want you guys to have a great day, okay?" I smiled at him. "Merry Christmas, bro."
"Same, little sis. It’ll suck without you here."
"Maybe, or you could have the time of your life."
He pretended to ponder that, then, slowly murmured, "You know what, you could be right."
"I have your Christmas present for you before I forget." I flipped him the bird. "There you go." I flipped him the second one. "Never let it be said that I’m not generous."
Twenty-Three
Aidan
I waited for her by the private elevator that would take us to The 68. The elevator only stopped on five floors in the entire building—Conor’s apartment, a communal gym and spa, The 68, the ground floor and the private parking garage.
The second I saw her though, the last thing I wanted was to walk through those doors and step amid the patrons of a busy bar.
She looked like sin and fire and lust personified.
Dressed in a pantsuit, sharp and tight, tailored to her every curve, she had a white shirt beneath it and a black tie around her throat.
Even though it was a masculine look, I’d never seen anything more innately feminine. Her make-up shielded all the bruises, and she looked like a goddamn angel sent to torment me with those golden brown eyes that saw too much I wanted to hide from her.