New York Billionaires Series

My aunt reaches across the table and puts her hand on top of mine. Her thick gold rings rest against my thin ones, an interest I’d gotten from her. “I’m sorry about that, dear. It’s been a stressful time for Opate and I know you’ve been the one to step up. Thank you, Summer. Truly.”

Smiling, I squeeze her hand. “I love Opate. I’m only happy to see it succeed.”

“I’m glad. You’re the… well.” Vivienne’s smile turns chagrined. “You’re the daughter I would have wanted, you know, if I’d ever wanted children. If I’d ever had any.”

“Wow. Thank you.”

“My dear brother is good at many things, but he’s the best at raising kids. You’re a gem,” she finishes, taking her hand back.

I don’t know how to respond to that. Luckily, I don’t have to, because Vivienne isn’t done. She pushes her sunglasses up on her head. “Well, I can’t keep this to myself any longer. I’ve met someone.”

“Yes. In April. It’s been a whirlwind, Summer, all of it. His name is Jerome.”

“Jerome,” I repeat.

“Yes. He’s French. A widower. He didn’t understand Opate at all in the beginning, let me tell you. Apparently he thought I worked in the escort industry when we first spoke. I told him that was a compliment, at my age!” She laughs, an excited blush coloring the apples of her cheeks. “He’s retired. Retired himself, actually, and now mostly works in philanthropy. Oh, Summer, I don’t recognize myself!”

“You’re in love.”

“Yes,” she says, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “Yes, that’s it. It’s the first time I’ve felt like this after Patrick, to tell you the truth.”

I smile, my throat closing up. My aunt is the most stylish, hopeless romantic I know. That’s what makes her so good at her job. Like me, she genuinely believes in love.

But her own divorce had left scars.

“I’m so happy for you,” I say. “Is that why you’ve been out of the office, then?”

“Yes. Jerome keeps telling me to work less. To enjoy the time we have together. Me, working less. Can you picture it?”

“Yes,” I say. “I think I can, actually.”

“I’d be climbing the walls after a month. Or painting them, perhaps. Do you think I could learn how to paint?”

“I think you can do anything you want,” I say, and it’s the truth.

Vivienne gives me another broad smile. “The best niece ever,” she repeats. “What about you?”This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

“What about me?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Summer, just because I haven’t been in the office as often. You look happy.”

“Well,” I say. Grab another breadstick and flip it over in my hands, as if it can tell me the right thing to say. “I have met someone.”

“I knew it.”

“He’s… amazing. Unexpected. Not the type I thought I’d be attracted to.”

Vivienne nods, eyes burning. “That’s often the case, darling. Opposites attract and all that.”

“Yes. I’ve seen it a hundred times with our own clients, but I still didn’t believe it myself. But I really like him.”

“How’d you meet him?” She reaches for her glass of white wine, eyes curious over the rim.

“Well, that’s the thing. One of the things, at any rate. I’m not sure you’d approve. I think you will. But I’m not sure.”

She smiles. “Oh, Summer. To be twenty-seven again and dating. Is he in a relationship with someone else?”

“Definitely not,” I say.

“All right. Is he more than twenty years your senior?”

I snort. “No.”

“And not underage.”

She leans back in her chair and crosses one leg over the other in a pose as nonchalant as it is elegant. “Then there’s absolutely no reason why I wouldn’t approve. Not if he genuinely makes you happy, and not like the weasel you dated before.”

“They’re nothing alike. And he does, you know. Make me happy.” Even if the time he’s taking for himself feels like it’s stretching into an eternity. One phone call and a couple of texts hasn’t been enough.

But he’d asked for time, and if it means he comes back to me ready to fight, I’m time’s biggest fan.

“Then I’m happy for you,” Vivienne says. “Look at us, both in love.”

“To love,” I say, raising my glass.

“To love,” she agrees, and we toast our glasses together. “And to beautiful, brilliant nieces who will soon be offered a promotion.”

I put my glass down. “Seriously?”

She laughs. “Yes. I spoke to Anthony Winter just yesterday about the new app they’ve designed for Opate. You’ve seen it, right? Suzy spoke about a meeting with Ryan.”

“I’ve seen it.” She’d spoken to Anthony?

“Once we move into the beta-phase, we’ll need to expand. I’ll be hands-on for a long while, but I’m thinking of cutting down on my hours a bit. Spend more time with Jerome.” She nods my way. “Are you interested in taking on more responsibility, Summer?”

“Yes. Absolutely, yes. I’m ready.”

“I know you are, dear,” she says, eyes sparkling. “I trained you, after all.”

Vivienne tells me to go home after lunch, and after two glasses of wine, I’m more than happy with that arrangement. Opate usually closes early on Fridays, anyway. That’s when most of our clients go on the dates we’ve set up.

More work for them, less work for us.

Ace keeps close to my side as I walk the familiar path home. New York is unusually cool today, the temperature comfortable rather than sweltering.

I’m going running tomorrow with Suzy. On Sunday evening there’s another get-together at Posie and Ben’s, and it’ll be Robin-free, she assures me. A fun weekend.

But Anthony won’t be here to comment on my newspaper reading, to drink the last orange juice, or to heat me up to a toasty hundred-and-four degrees during the already warm nights.