Six Month Rule (Kingston Ale House) (21 page)

December

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sophie’s little fingers tickled Will’s jaw, and he chuckled, delighting in her touch. She’d grown so much these past six months. He’d hardly recognized her when his mum had shown up at the airport with her to greet him when he arrived.

“Who is this young lady?” he’d asked, pretending as if he’d never met her, which made Sophie laugh until tears ran down her face.

“It’s
me
, Daddy. Your Sophie!”

But oh, how she’d changed since Thanksgiving weekend. It had been three weeks since he’d sent his daughter back to England, which meant right now his beard was rivaling Santa’s.

“Can I take it off tonight?” he asked as Sophie studied him, the two of them snuggled in the back of his mum’s Mini Cooper. After the incident at the aquarium, he was relieved Tara was still giving him Christmas weekend. Sophie had tried to take the responsibility when Will had explained what happened, but Tara wouldn’t hear it. He
and
Phillip had had to talk her out of heading straight back to O’Hare and hopping the next flight back to London.

“I quite like it when it’s this long,” she said. “Does Holly like it, too?”

Will swallowed hard but kept his composure for Sophie’s sake.

“Darling, I told you. Holly is just a friend from work, and we don’t even work together anymore. Not really.”

He’d hated what he’d done that Monday after Thanksgiving at Trousseau, leaving as he had, but it was the only answer he saw fit.

Andrea hadn’t argued, not that he thought she would. He knew her real loyalties were with Holly, that she wanted the best for her almost partner, and Will being out of the picture was what was best—for everyone. Never mind that he’d never be able to erase the hurt he saw in Holly’s eyes the last time they’d seen each other. He’d have to find some way to live with that—with knowing that he’d extinguished their light.

“Tara told me about the aquarium,” his mum piped up from the front seat. “I’d be surprised if she doesn’t have Sophie microchipped by now, from the sound of how traumatic it was for her to lose Sophie.”

Will’s skin grew hot, and his eyes burned.

“Traumatic for
her
? I’m sorry, what? Tara wasn’t even there when Sophie went missing. Christ.”

His mom chuckled, and Sophie grabbed his forearm.

“I wasn’t lost, Daddy. I knew where I was going. I read a sign that said sea stars, and I wanted to see the sea stars.”

He shook his head.

“You were lost to me,” he said.

Will closed his eyes, rubbing them with his thumb and forefinger. Even weeks after the incident, his stomach sank at the mere mention of it. It was like thinking he’d lost Sophie all over again—then reminding himself he’d lost Holly for good. They rode in silence for the next several minutes, and he tried to bury any further thoughts of Chicago. He was
home
. England was home. All he needed was here.

“Do you want to know what I asked Santa to bring me for Christmas?” Sophie asked, and he opened his eyes.

“Whatever it is, love, I’ll make sure you get it.”

She grinned at this just as the car came to a stop in front of his house.

“I asked for you to marry Holly because she makes you smile.”

Will coughed, and his mum laughed as she exited the front seat.

He opened his door and stepped out onto the snow-dusted curb, then reached his hand for his presumptuous daughter.

“Sophie,
you
make me smile. I don’t need to marry—”

She cut him off once she was standing in front of him.

“Daddy, I’m nearly seven now, so I know how things work.” He nodded and smiled, and she went on. “And I do love you and Mummy and Phillip, and I know
I
make you smile. But who makes you smile when I’m not there?”

Just then his mum put a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re a good man, William.”

He shook his head, refusing to believe such rubbish. “No, Mum. I’m really not. I’ve been trying to be a good father, but I’m a long way off from being a good man.”

His mum huffed out a breath. “William. I am your mother, and as such you will not only listen to what I have to say, but you will take care to believe it.”

He responded with a raised brow, but he didn’t dare interrupt.

“As I was saying, you are my son
and
a good man who became a father before he was prepared for what that entailed, but you did the best you could then, and you’re doing even better today. Just look at that beautiful girl you helped create.”

He glanced down at Sophie, who preened at her grandmum’s compliment.

“Plus,” she continued, “you’ve got your wits about you now. And you’ve got a damn smart little girl who finds happiness in seeing others happy. You could learn something from her, you know. If you care for this woman, then you owe it to yourself to do right by her.” She sighed and placed a hand over his. “Oh, William. You owe it to yourself to do right by
you
.”

“It’s not that easy, Mum,” he finally said.

“Nothing ever is,” she said. “If life and love were so bloody easy, how would we ever know what was worth fighting for if there was nothing worthy of a fight?”

Sophie giggled. “Grandmum cursed,” she said.

Will couldn’t help laughing, too. “When did the women in my life get so smart?”

His mum shook her head. “Oh, darling, you know we’ve always been. It’s just taken you ages to hear what we have to say.”

“I bet Holly is quite smart,” Sophie said, and Will bent to kiss his daughter’s nose.

“She is, sweetheart.”

I, on the other hand, am a total and complete wanker.

Will tucked Sophie into bed, grabbed a bottle of ale from the refrigerator, and found his parents in the lounge watching an old episode of
Fawlty Towers
on the telly. They were staying in the spare room so they could all wake on Christmas morning together, which he knew would be at the crack of dawn if his daughter had anything to say about it.

His mum was sipping a cup of tea while his dad opted for a bottle of Newcastle. Like father, like son.

“Thanks for stocking the fridge, Dad.”

His mum huffed out a breath.

“Sure, thank your father for the ale but not your mum for all the food—for looking after the place while you’re gone.”

He stepped around to the chair where she sat and kissed her on the cheek, then sat on the sofa next to his father.

“Thank you, Mum. For
everything
.”

She raised her brows at this, and he could tell she was waiting for what came next. Because something absolutely did come next.

“I think I need to make a phone call,” he told her, then took a swig of his ale. His mother grinned.

“Sophie likes her? The American?”

He nodded. “Holly.” He even missed saying her name.

“And
you
like her,” she added. It wasn’t a question. She was his mum. She could read him even when he tried to keep the pages of his book sealed shut.

This apparently piqued his dad’s interest, because his eyes left the telly and were now on Will. Guess he had a full audience now.

“I love her.” At this his mum’s hand flew to her heart as her smile grew wider than before, but Will shook his head. “I love her, and I messed up. I said some terrible things, practically blamed her for losing Sophie, and we haven’t spoken since. I don’t think she’ll forgive me.”

His dad’s hand was on Will’s knee now. Then he stood, wiggling his empty bottle.

“Just say you’re sorry, son. Even if it’s not your fault—which this time it absolutely is—say you’re sorry. Women love that, you being wrong and owning up to it.”

“Oh, Edward!”

His mother reached across him and swatted his father on the arse. His father simply chuckled and ambled out of the room.

“Apologies are nice,” she admitted, “but I swear if your father wasn’t such an excellent lover—”

“Mum!” With that Will was off the sofa and making his way to his small study.

“Oh, William, we aren’t prudes,” his mother called after him, and he shuddered but didn’t look back.

He could call her. He could apologize and ask for a second chance. But there was still the whole geography situation. He couldn’t leave England, and she wouldn’t leave Chicago. That was the part he hadn’t yet figured out. And if her crazy six-month rule really was true, he wouldn’t have to, because she wouldn’t want him anyway. Christ, even if her feelings hadn’t fizzled, he’d made a right mess of everything. Maybe she loved him, but he’d hurt her. He just wasn’t sure if the damage was irreparable.

When he was inside the study, he pulled out his phone and checked the time. It was eleven, which meant it was only five in Chicago. Maybe she’d answer, and maybe she wouldn’t, but he’d been the one to push her away. It was up to him to try to get her back. So he brought up her number and was ready to hit send.

“Daddy!” Sophie cried. “Daddy!”

He dropped the phone and ran to his daughter’s room, his parents right behind him. Will knelt next to her bed where she lay with her eyes still closed, yet her cheeks were streaked with tears and she was still calling his name.

He laid a palm on her forehead and sucked in a breath.

“She’s burning up,” he said. “Sophie, darling. It’s Daddy. Wake up so we can give you some medicine.” But she just kept whimpering and saying his name.

“I’ll warm up the car,” his father said, and Will nodded.

“Mum, call Tara. Tell her we’re heading to the urgent care.”

His mum left the room, and Will scooped his daughter into his arms. She was a furnace against him. She would be okay. He told this to himself again and again. But that didn’t stop him from shaking as she cried into his shoulder. Then he realized it wasn’t him who was shaking. It was Sophie.

Her arms and legs convulsed, and her eyes rolled back into her head. He had to find purchase up against a wall before she knocked him over. He couldn’t drive with her like this.

“Mum!” he yelled. He slid down the wall before he dropped his daughter altogether. “Mum, call an ambulance!”

His mother ran to him, phone in hand. He was on the floor with his daughter seizing in his arms. His vision blurred as tears streaked his cheeks.

“It’s all right, William,” she said as she dialed. “It’s all right. It will be all right.” But her voice shook. She couldn’t protect him from her fear.

He wasn’t a religious man, but it didn’t stop him from silently begging any higher power that might exist to make his daughter all right. He loved Sophie more than his own life, and as he carried his daughter out to the car, the same thought repeated in his head like a mantra.
Take me instead.

“It was a febrile seizure,” the doctor said after Sophie was sleeping peacefully. The seizure hadn’t even lasted as long as it took the ambulance to arrive, but to Will it felt endless. “Quite scary, but we’ve reduced the fever. We’ll do some tests in the morning, but not to worry. All her vitals look good. These things are more common than you think.”

For the rest of the night, he and Tara sat vigilant at his daughter’s bedside. He stayed awake as nurses came in every few hours to monitor Sophie’s temperature—to check the intravenous medication that flowed through a tiny tube into her small, limp arm. And when her fever finally broke the next morning, he thanked God or the stars or whoever listened and gave him what he wanted.

“Mummy. Daddy,” Sophie said quietly as she woke. “Why do you look so sad?”

Tara burst into tears, peppering their daughter’s forehead with kisses. Will swallowed back his own emotion. At least he thought he had until his daughter reached her hand to his face and swiped a rogue tear away.

“It’s okay,” Sophie said to them both, and Will laughed at the severity of his love for his daughter—and her unwavering love for him. Maybe he hadn’t done as badly in the parenting department as he’d thought.

Phillip walked up behind Tara, resting his hands on his wife’s shoulders and leaning down to kiss her teary cheek. “Happy Christmas, love,” he said softly before leaning over her to kiss Sophie as well. Tara reached for one of his hands and gripped it firmly. Will looked over his shoulder to where his parents sat on a small couch—their makeshift bed for the night. His mum blew him a kiss, and he grinned.

Maybe he’d had it all wrong. He’d believed for so long that he wasn’t allowed to want. That he didn’t deserve anything that was for his own selfish gain. But that’s not what loving someone meant. It wasn’t one-sided. Love was a give and take. And if you were lucky enough to earn the love of someone wonderful, you’d be willing to give more than you got—just for a tiny taste of that love.

He had that with his daughter. He knew that now. Christ, it had taken him years, but he finally got it. Loving Holly wasn’t selfish, not when all he wanted was the privilege to
give
his love to her. What he got in return, he’d never take for granted.

That was, if she’d take him back.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Gemini: Your single-minded nature is often your strength, but when you focus on only one aspect of your life, others get neglected. Feed your ambition. Feed your soul. Rinse and repeat. There’s a recipe for balance, Gemini, but only you know the ingredients.

Holly knocked on Andrea’s office door even though it was wide open. She glanced toward the empty conference room, and her heart sank a little, just like it had every day this last month when she walked past to find Will not there.

“Burning the holiday oil as well?” Andrea asked, motioning for her to come in.

It was December 29, and Holly was pretty sure she had all she needed for the final site survey at the W, except for her partner in her biggest professional endeavor. The Tallulah Chan show was supposed to be her grand event—her starring role that would prove to Andrea that she truly was up for the task of partner. But now New Year’s Eve was like one of those cartoon rain clouds that followed one unlucky schlub.
She
was the schlub, unable to get out from beyond the gloom. Now all she wanted was closure—to end the incessant rain and get to see sunny skies again.

“Yeah,” Holly said. “Just wanted to make sure I had all the paperwork for Ms. Chan to sign, releases for the VIP ticket winners so we can take photos for the paper, all that fun stuff.”

She sat in one of the chairs, knees bouncing, not sure which question she wanted to ask first. Her eyes drifted toward the wall that connected Andrea’s office with the conference room.

“You seem a little distracted,” Andrea said, and Holly’s head snapped back, her eyes locking on the other woman’s.

“Did you really think that?” she asked. Guess this would be question number one. “Did you really think that Mr. Evans…” She groaned. There was zero point in pretense right now. “Did you think Will was a distraction for me?”

Andrea laughed. “Oh, honey. I think he still is, though I admit I thought you two were just sleeping together. I didn’t realize you really liked him. And yes, I was worried what it meant to put you on our most high-profile event only to see your attention divided between the job itself and the man you were working with. Maybe it wasn’t your most professional decision, but it was wrong of me to judge.” Holly’s brows rose. She’d expected a lecture, but instead she was getting…understanding? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do more than smile pleasantly at a man you brought to a party or a show,” she continued. “But right now you’re mooning over drywall.”

Holly winced. Was she that obvious? She guessed so, but she couldn’t help it. She was way out of her element here, and she was still holding on to that whole six-month idea, that any day now—any minute, hopefully—she’d be back to her old self. She didn’t
want
to moon over drywall. She didn’t want to be angry that he hadn’t called or texted to even wish her a merry Christmas. Then again, neither had she. But she wasn’t the one who’d called him a distraction. She wasn’t the one who’d blamed her for the terrible scare of losing Sophie.

She was just the one who proposed a bit of fun and ended up falling in love with a guy whose life didn’t seem to have room in it for her. Not that she’d truly told him how she felt—
I might love you, too
? Ugh. She was the worst. Not that it mattered, because Will Evans only had room in his life for his daughter.

Sophie.
Even after one day, she adored that little girl. But Will was a father, with fatherly responsibilities. In
London
. And Holly was no stranger to putting a relationship at the bottom of her priority list. She found it unfortunate that she’d finally realized she wanted to put the work in with Will,
outside
the office, just as he decided he couldn’t. But she still understood.

She leaned forward, rested her arms on Andrea’s desk, then let her forehead fall with a soft thud against the wood. Again. And then one more time after that.

“What is happening to me?”

She groaned. Andrea laughed.

“They’re called
feelings
, Holly. Are you not enjoying them?”

She looked up and met Andrea’s gaze.

“Are you going to make me partner, or am I too distracted for the job?”

Andrea leaned back in her chair and sighed.

“How badly do you want it?” she asked.

Holly rolled her eyes—
at her boss
. But screw it. She was an open book at this point, and there was no reason to hold back.

“I’ve been with you from the beginning,” she said. “I’ve been loyal, hardworking, and you
know
I can hold my own directing a show.” Her eyes were getting misty, and it had to be from lack of sleep. She’d never had trouble sleeping alone, but now her body had the sense memory of what it was like to sleep with someone else molded to her own shape, warm arms wrapped around her naked body. As tired as she’d been—and the last few weeks before the show had been the busiest—she wasn’t getting more than three to four hours of sleep a night.

“I love what I do, Andrea. And I’m good at it, and I know you don’t want to run this ship on your own forever. You built Trousseau from the ground up, and you’ve done an amazing job. With me next door you can do even better.”

If she knew that her future was set—if Andrea gave the word that she’d start the new year as Trousseau’s new partner—then that would be enough. This was everything she’d always wanted. How could it not be?

Andrea pulled a file folder from her desk drawer and slid it across the desk.

“I agree,” she said. “Maybe you can sign these, then?”

Holly opened the folder, and inside she found a contract.

“I trust you’ll want a lawyer to take a look at the paperwork before you sign on the dotted line, but I think you’ll be happy with my terms and the location clause.”

Holly’s hand shook as she flipped through the pages. Brynn could read it for her. She’d taken a couple contracts classes in law school before going the CPA route. Everything was lining up. This was exactly what she wanted, and suddenly it terrified her to get it.

“Location clause?”

Andrea shrugged. “You’re about to solidify us in the international market,” she said. “I may need you to scout some international talent from time to time. Maybe even for extended periods of time.”

Her boss and—she guessed—soon-to-be partner winked.

“Andrea, I don’t understand. You already have the contract? B-but the show hasn’t even happened yet. What if something goes wrong? What if I mess up? What if you change your mind?”

Andrea laughed, though Holly couldn’t imagine what was so funny. Did this woman know what she was doing, giving half her company to someone who had her priorities all jumbled up?

“What if work isn’t the only number one on my list anymore?” Holly added, not realizing she knew the answer to the question until she asked it. “What if I don’t live and breathe
just
for Trousseau?”

Because she finally got what had changed. Just like she put her theater roles first when she was in high school and college, she put her career above every other connection in her life. Being good at something and having others recognize it was an intoxicating feeling. And those feelings were always on her terms—under her control. A performance ran from Wednesday through Sunday? She’d be adored for those four days and then move on to whatever came next. She could be a star, shine bright until her time was up, and know that feeling would come again with the next role, the next show, the next time she saw her name in the paper.

But having Will in her life? That had filled those spaces in between, the ones she didn’t know needed filling. He’d seen her pull off reconstructing a lost presentation in little more than twenty-four hours. And he’d seen her helpless and sick, afraid of failure, unwilling to admit she even missed him let alone was falling for him. Even if he wasn’t here, Will made her understand what Andrea was offering, what it really meant to put that kind of trust in someone else.

“Do you know what it means to me to have you sitting next door—or
wherever
you set up your home base?” Andrea asked. “It means
I
don’t have to live and breathe
just
Trousseau anymore. I never asked that of you, Holly. That was all your doing. But now I’ll have your back and you’ll have mine, and no one needs to carry the weight alone. No one needs to sacrifice one aspect of her life for another.”

Holly nodded. “I get it,” she said. “I finally get it.”