I pulled him in for a hug. I didn’t want to let go. I’d spent so long angry at him I’d forgotten to miss him. But having him back in my life, it all came flooding back. I liked his laugh and the way he was terrible at football. I remembered how he was so grouchy if things weren’t fair. I remembered him plastering my knees, giving me Chinese burns and cutting my hair when I was about eight; it had gotten too long and our parents were too busy to notice. He’d been the consummate big brother. When he’d sold the business to Sparkle, all those memories had been locked away. Now I’d allowed them out, it was as if I was more me.
I was whole now I had my memories of us back.
“Thanks for coming,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Wild horses couldn’t have stopped me,” he said as we parted. “This is my wife, Layla.”
A small, pretty blond woman stood beside him, beaming. “I’m so happy to meet you,” she said and threw her arms around my neck as if she was my long-lost sister. I supposed she was in a way. “I feel like I know you. Primrose always kept us up to date, but it’s not the same as being able to see you in the flesh.”
I glanced at Primrose. I’d never told her not to talk to David about me. I’d spent years trying to act as if I didn’t have a brother, and now I wished I could get those years back.
“Sounds like I have some catching up to do,” I said.
She grabbed my hand. “Lots. Come round for supper this week, will you?” I nodded, realizing I didn’t even know where they lived. So much wasted time. “And bring someone if you want?” Frustration clutched at my stomach as I imagined Hollie back in Oregon. She was probably home with her sister now. However hard I tried, I couldn’t imagine her in America. She belonged in London.
I shook my head. “I’m a party of one,” I said.
We made our way to our table, with me fastidiously avoiding looking across the room at the competitors’ pieces. I’d look if we lost. But not before the winner was announced.
Our first courses were delivered and as Primrose chatted to David and Layla, I checked my phone, but it was blank. I’d put my phone number in my email to Autumn and was hoping for a message from Hollie. It didn’t feel right that she wasn’t here. The last-minute changes we’d made to the tiara on her suggestion had elevated the piece to another level. I’d been so fucking proud of her. I knew in that moment she was going to have a fantastic career.
But she needed to learn to put herself and her own needs first.
If she was determined to be drawn back to Oregon at every opportunity, then no doubt, she’d have to make do with an Etsy store. And that would be a waste of talent.
The meal dragged on, intermittently interrupted by short films about the charities that had been supported and speeches on the industry and Finland. The entire room was smiling and feigning interest. I glanced at the next table and saw Beck, Gabriel and Tristan chatting away and then across from me, my brother and his wife. Next to me, Primrose. Not all the guys had managed to come tonight, but other than Andrew and Joshua, everyone important in my life was here. The only person missing was Hollie.
After the plates were cleared and the amounts raised for charity announced, the room began to quieten. Everyone was ready. All heads were turned to the podium and side conversations hushed.
The princess of Finland was welcomed on stage to finally announce the winner. Not just months, but a lifetime of preparation had come down to this moment. Her Royal Highness was going to decide whether or not I’d picked up that baton from my parents and carried it with me.
I was usually quite a patient man—fine jewelry making required it—but right then I wished I could press the skip button on the princess and get to the part where she announced the winner. Instead she talked about the charities being supported. About Finland, her family and her fiancé. With every sentence my insides coiled tighter and tighter, images flashing into my head of me as a boy in my parents’ shop, me opening my first business, taking my first commission. I glanced at my brother, whose gaze was glued to the stage.
“And now,” she said. “To the winner. As you know, I’ve been advised by the expert panel who were responsible for selecting the finalists and I’ve made my choice.” I swallowed. I knew we’d done our absolute best. The thought that it might not be good enough gnawed at my throat.