“I guess he does.” For the first time, I feel understood.
Utterly and completely.
“I need to call him.”
“Go on, call your boyfriend,” Mom urges as I get up, the purse clutched in one hand and my phone in the other. “You’re going to see him today, correct?”
I stop and turn to face her, suddenly sad. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“Oh, darling, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Go be with him. Spend your birthday with him. I know that’s what you want. I’m grateful we had last night together. And this morning.” Her smile is sad. “I’ve wasted too much time being upset with you and your father when I should’ve inserted myself into your life more. I’m sorry about that.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I tell her. “Not anymore.”
She shakes her head. Sits up straighter. “Go call him. I’m sure he’s waiting to hear from you.”
Smiling at her one last time, I dash off to my bedroom, closing the door for privacy. I FaceTime him and after a couple of rings, he picks up, his handsome face filling my screen. He’s a little more disheveled today compared to yesterday. His hair is rumpled and stubble lines his cheeks and jaw.
I hold the pink bag up in front of me, showing him.
“You got it.”
“I love it.” I drop the bag onto the bed beside me. “And all the lipsticks. You really bought every color Chanel makes?”
“All four hundred of them. Didn’t you notice how full of lipstick that box was?”
“There were lipsticks in the bag too.”
“That was a special request. They don’t normally put anything in the bag when you purchase it. I bought it from another salesperson by the way. A much kinder, older woman who helped me,” Crew explains.
“I love it.” I pause, the words heavy on my tongue, and he sends me a knowing look.
“Don’t say it, Birdy. Not now, when we’re FaceTiming each other.” His smile is smug. “Save it for when we’re actually together.”
I burst out laughing. “How did you know?”
“Because I feel the same way.”
FIFTY-TWO
CREW
“You’re pathetic.”
This is the first thing Grant says to me when I return to the living room after my quick conversation with Wren.
“Oh, leave him alone.” This comes from Grant’s girlfriend, Alyssa. She has no fear in telling him what to do, and I think he respects that. Begrudgingly. I know I respect it. No one talks to Grant like she does. “He’s in love.”
Even a day ago, I might’ve denied it, but come on.
I am definitely in love with Wren Beaumont.
Purchasing A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime for her birthday present more than confirms that. Sending her a Chanel bag and spending a shit ton of money on four hundred lipsticks more than proves it too.
The piece proved tough to find. Tougher still to actually purchase it from the previous owner. That guy did not want to give it up, no matter what we quoted, and he held out for a while. He also made me sweat, and Grant loved every second of it, the dick.
But money talks and Lancasters have plenty of it. I eventually acquired that piece my girl loves so damn much. For a cool 1.2 million dollars.
“If being in love makes me pathetic, then I guess you are too,” I tell my brother, sounding like I’m five.
“Stop fighting,” Mother says, her tone mild. “When is she coming over, Crew? And will she be here for dinner?”
“She should be here soon. And yes, she’ll stay for dinner. It’s her birthday.”
Mother’s eyebrows shoot up. “What? Today?”
I nod.
“We must celebrate then. I’ll talk to the chef. We already had something planned, but it needs to be extra special. And we should have a cake! Oh my.” She rises to her feet and scurries to the kitchen, calling out to her staff.
“You really spent a million bucks on a painting for her?” This comes from Finn, my second oldest brother. He’s kicked back on the couch, clutching a glass of orange juice loaded with vodka.
It’s not even noon yet. Guess he needs it to cope with all the family time we’ve experienced the last couple of days, which he normally tries to avoid.
Not that I can blame him. It’s the one good thing about being trapped at Lancaster Prep. I only see my family for major holidays.
“I did,” I say with a nod as I make my way over to the windows that face the city, stopping next to the massive pine tree that’s strung with white lights. Mother went all out this year. The entire place reeks of pine, which isn’t a bad thing. “And it’s not a painting.”