“I thought you were good at math,” she asked before taking a bite of her own sandwich. “You were in high school anyway.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t pay enough attention in class. Barely passed it at Yale.” I felt the telling heat on my face. “I had a crush on someone in my class. Couldn’t pay attention to the professor to save my life.”
The memory of Grey Blackwood was old and soft from use. Pulling it out was familiar and comfortable like a worn pair of jeans. That moment in the supply closet with him, the soft brush of lips and the harsh command to get on my knees, had changed something in me irrevocably.
And watching him lose everything while I’d stood there and done nothing had ultimately changed the course of my life. That night, my mind had been wrenched open, leaving me faced with some harsh new realities. As a result, I’d chosen new goals for myself, new directions.
And one of those directions had led me here, to the academy.
Gigi took a sip of water. “Was that when you met Mallory? I never told you this, but she wasn’t my favorite.”
I pictured Grey’s wide shoulders and square jaw next to Mallory Derringer’s petite, curvy frame.
“Not Mallory. We didn’t start dating until I started law school. She was an undergrad at Columbia.” I didn’t tell my sister that I’d only dated Mallory to make her parents happy. In reality, she’d made it clear she had no desire for a serious relationship because she wanted to backpack around the world after graduation. Since I hadn’t been able to stop obsessing with the memory of my time in the closet with Grey Blackwood, it had worked out just fine for me. My parents hadn’t tried setting me up and Mallory had been able to get through graduation without her own family pestering her to get serious and settle down. Ironically, the first week she’d spent in the Swiss Alps, she’d met her soul mate and had married him the following Christmas.
“Crystal?” Gigi asked.
“I never dated anyone named Crystal,” I said absently, pulling my buzzing phone out of my pocket. “Maybe you’re thinking of Kristen.”
“There’ve been so many, it’s hard to keep them all straight,” she teased.
“Mpfh.” I was well versed in putting off curious questions about my love life. As far as I was concerned, my family could ask as many questions as they wanted about the women I brought to family functions, but who I slept with—who I actually got close to—was off-limits. I’d started that practice years ago with the expectation that eventually I’d sleep with a man and wouldn’t want to tell my parents about it. But then I… simply never had. It hadn’t taken me long to realize I didn’t want to sleep with men.
I wanted to sleep with Grey Blackwood.
Period.
So I’d entered into this weird kind of dating situation where I became the perfect fake boyfriend. Not fake exactly—I definitely slept with most of the women I dated. But I made it clear from the beginning I didn’t want anything serious. There were a million reasons why, but the most important one was knowing I would be selling them a fake bill of goods. While I was the heir of a large venture capital firm and a corporate attorney in my own right, with all the accompanying accoutrements such as multiple club memberships, an impressive Central Park address, wealthy and influential friends, and access to extravagant vacation properties, I wasn’t going to be that man forever. There was always an end date on the Ellison York they knew.
And now it was here. I could finally be the Ellison York I knew, and I was relieved and excited to be starting my more genuine life. I couldn’t wait to finally have time and room to breathe. Now that I could be myself, I could find someone to date for real, someone who might like me for who I actually was, not who they thought I was based on my name and corporate title.
“Want to go for a run tonight on that trail by the river?” I asked. “I’m dying to stretch my legs after all that time in the car the other day, and some of the leaves are already starting to turn out that way.”
She nodded. “I have to stay to help organize the theater inventory this afternoon, but I can go after that.”
I grabbed a handful of almonds and threw them in my mouth before glancing down at my phone. Six missed calls and several texts. One of them was from Skyla Palmer, who’d been my assistant for the past three years. She wouldn’t be messaging me if it wasn’t important. She was the only one at York who knew how permanent my move was.
Skyla: Code red. Shit hitting fan. Call ASAP.
Skyla: Not fucking around, Ells. Call me.
I glanced up at Gigi, who noticed the frown on my face. As soon as Skyla answered, I didn’t even have a chance to say hello. “Some hot-ass dude just took over the company. Your dad’s about to lose his shit. Everyone’s running around like it’s the apocalypse. You need to find out what the fuck is happening. They won’t tell me anything, and every story I hear is different.”
“What?” I asked. “The company can’t just be taken over, Skyla. It’s privately held.”
“Well, tell that to the grumpy underwear model in the Carlisle conference room because he seems to think he’s in charge, and I’m pretty sure he’s about to make your dad cry. People have been coming in here for the past few hours asking me to find you and get you back here, but I pretended not to know your ‘new number.’”
I took a deep breath and calmed down when I realized what was happening. “Whoever came up with this prank idea needs to be a little more creative. Maybe they should have said my dad got arrested for tax fraud or something. That, I might have actually believed.”
“No, really, Ells,” she said, suddenly being serious. “The man’s name is Grey Blackwood, and he bought your uncle Mark’s shares yesterday. Apparently, he already had your great-uncle Leon’s shares too. So that gave him majority ownership.”
I didn’t hear much after the words “Grey Blackwood.” My heart thundered wildly in my chest, and spots poked around idly in my vision. “Who? What?” I could barely breathe. Something was wrong with my chest.
Everyone in the venture capital space knew who Grey Blackwood was. He’d come screaming out of nowhere almost ten years ago when he’d provided the seed money for a small start-up company called Lumeniar that had turned into one of the most lucrative venture capital investments of the past decade. Once he had the money from Lumeniar’s acquisition by Zillin Biotech, he’d invested in seemingly every damned thing that was slated to pay him back a thousandfold. The man had become a titan in the VC world.
And my father had been incensed.
I remembered the breakfast meeting at work that day when Dad had gotten the news. The grin on my face had been obscene. Grey Blackwood had made good in the industry after all, and people like Warren York could suck it.
But there was no way he could have taken over York. Was there?
“Skyla, tell me what you know. How did you find out?”
“Apparently he came in and breezed past Nikki’s desk to help himself to the conference room, where your dad and the company leadership were doing whatever it is they do. Probably crying about losing you. Mr. Blackwood’s assistant began handing out severance packages while he calmly told your father to kiss his ass. Well, that last part might have been wishful thinking on my part, but I did hear he was cool as a cucumber while he was in there. No one’s phones would work for a while, and then a whole team came in to help manage the transition. They sent out a company-wide email about the takeover and advised everyone to consult their individual packets from Human Resources. I got a contract, thank god, but Nate and Rory got a severance.”