Madly (New York 2)

He couldn’t not pay attention to that. It was literally all he could think about.

“But she asked you to this meeting,” Nev said.

“Technically, Beatrice instructed me to come, and Chasity texted to let me know how we’d be traveling and at what time. I haven’t a clue if Allie wants me here.”

Nev shook his head. “If you’d ruined it, she wouldn’t have made sure you were invited today, much less your daughter, your brother, your brother’s partner, and your personal assistant, all of whom have turned up—and I shouldn’t have to tell you this—for you. Because we want you to be happy. Because we want to know what you think, and support what you want, even when you make it incredibly fucking difficult.” Nev blew out an irritated breath. “You’re supposed to show up for your own life, you know? You’re supposed to buy furniture and insist your daughter share her schoolwork and tell the girl you met at a bar that you want her to stay so you can figure out if what you really want is for her to stay forever. Just because you were a controlling asshole four years ago doesn’t mean what you’re supposed to do from now until you die is just let shit happen to you. This isn’t penance. It’s fucking New York.”

“I—I’m not sure I understand.”

“Jesus Christ.” Neville walked away from him, stalking five steps down the street. But then he stopped. Turned around. “You know, things got a bit rocky between Cath and me, the first months we were together.”

“At Leyton, you mean? I believe I was on hand to witness it.”

“Not then, later on. After we got back together at my gallery opening. The first few months, she walked out on me twice. It took me until the third time to figure out I kept trying to force things that weren’t mine to force. I had to learn to trust her to figure out her life in her own way, not dream up ways to soothe my fear and lock her down for all eternity.”

“You’re telling me to give Allie space.”

“No, I’m telling you she’s not going to drop off the face of the earth—you’ve got a cell phone and access to an airport. Maybe she goes home without telling you she wants to belong to you until the end of time. It doesn’t mean she’s not going to text you an hour after she lands, or add you on Skype in a week and see if you want to video chat. And if she does that, when she does that, it’s because she wants you. You. Winston Chamberlain. For whatever fucking reason. And you’re not doing her a favor if what you decide to do is give her space and never tell what it is you want.”

“I don’t have a Skype.”

“Get one. Use it to call Mum and Dad. They’d like to see your face.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Good.”

They stared at each other for a moment, yards between them, and Nev shoved his hands in his pockets again and rocked back on

his heels. One end of his mouth drew up in a smirk, which cracked into a smile. “You okay?” he asked.

“I think so.”

“Because we just had a row, you and me.”

“We did.”

“And the earth didn’t crash into the sun.”

“No.”

“I’m still your brother. Now you know what I think. See how that works?”

Winston sighed and rubbed his fingertips between his eyebrows. “Yes, and you can stop condescending any time.”

Nev walked back to where Winston was standing, put his arm around his shoulders and led him toward the restaurant. “It’s a very enjoyable role reversal for me.”

“No doubt.”

They reached the corner. Half a block down, Bea stood alone outside the restaurant. “Get the lead out! Cath and Chasity already went in.”

Nev turned to look at him. “She’s a great kid, you know. Your daughter. You can stop worrying about her any time now. You’ve done a good job there.”

Winston didn’t respond. He just let his brother’s good opinion soak in, the way the sun soaked in, and the sight of his daughter wearing farmer’s overalls and a dance leotard, her rainbow hair piled at the very crown of her head in an enormous mess, wispy pieces falling down her neck and shoulders.

She was a great kid. He hadn’t needed his brother to tell him, but it didn’t hurt to hear it.

It didn’t hurt a bit.