If the Sun Never Sets (If Love 2)

“It’s your moral obligation to tell. This is Farrah. One of your oldest friends.” Olivia waved her hand over Farrah like she was showing off a prized pony. “Blake is back in her life, and if you have something to say that could prevent him from hurting her again, you better say it.”

Sammy muttered something under his breath that sounded like, “She’s not the one I’m worried about.”

Olivia frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Sammy.” Farrah placed a hand on Sammy’s arm. “Please.”

She had no desire to dredge up the past, but it was already peeking out from the box she’d buried it in. Might as well let it loose so it could expend its energy before she locked it up again.

Sammy sighed. “Like I said, it’s not my place to tell. But don’t be so hard on Blake, okay? He’s been through some shit. And if he wants to tell you…” He drummed his fingers on his knee. “The next time you see him, ask him about the night you lost your necklace.”

Farrah’s hand flew up to her pendant. It was the last gift her father gave her before he died. Blake was the only person who knew about its significance unless he’d told Sammy, which he had no reason to. “What does my necklace have to do with anything?”

Sadness crept into Sammy’s eyes. “It has to do with more than you think.”

Chapter Eighteen

When it rained, it poured.

After a months-long streak of golden luck, Blake’s professional life started shitting on him as much as his personal one.

His restaurant manager ran off to Greece to chase a girl he’d fallen in love with at a wine tasting and sent Blake an email from Santorini, apologizing profusely but making it clear he wasn’t coming back to New York anytime soon.

There was a plumbing issue in the bar’s second-floor bathroom that cost an arm and a leg to repair.

And Mode de Vie canceled his feature spread because they’d landed a last-minute, exclusive interview with the notoriously press-shy Crown Prince of Eldora and his fiancée—an American flight attendant and newly minted fashion icon whom the prince’s family reportedly loathed.

Blake didn’t care so much about Mode de Vie, although it would’ve been great publicity for the bar. He did, however, care about Farrah, who’d worked herself to the bone trying to pull his apartment together for the shoot. She’d never said it, but he knew how excited she’d been about making her magazine debut. He’d caught her Googling a list of interior designers who’d appeared in Mode de Vie when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Now, he had to tell her it wasn’t going to happen.

“What’s the status on hiring a new restaurant manager?” Blake asked Patricia, who tapped away on her phone as though her life depended on it.

“We’ve narrowed it down to three candidates. You have interviews scheduled with them next week,” Patricia replied without looking up. “I also confirmed an interview with City Style to replace your Mode de Vie shoot. It’s not the same caliber, but it has decent readership amongst our target audience.”

“Is it going to be shot at my house?”

“No. It’ll be in their studio. They never do on-location shoots for personal features.”

Blake sighed. “Okay, thanks.” He checked his watch. Almost eight p.m. He’d been up since five in the morning. Awake since three. His head swam with exhaustion, but he’d promised Landon he’d meet him for drinks at The Egret. He’d been so knee-deep in shit and self-pity he hadn’t seen his best friend in weeks. “Let’s wrap it up. Get some rest.”

“I’m going to send a few more emails first.”

“Patricia.”

“Blake,” she mimicked. His chief of staff rolled her eyes at his glare. “Fine. I’ll leave after I send one more email. Good enough for you?”

“You should be glad I’m such an understanding boss,” Blake grumbled. “Otherwise, I would’ve fired you a long time ago.”

“You’ll never fire me. I’m the best chief of staff you could have.”

Dammit. She was right.

After another reminder about not working too late, which Patricia waved off, Blake exited Legends and took the subway uptown. Since it was a Tuesday, The Egret wasn’t too crowded, and he spotted Landon chatting with Justin at the bar right as he walked in.

“Sup.” Blake plunked his ass on the seat next to Landon and tilted his chin in greeting before addressing Justin. “Why is it every time I see you, you’re not working?”