Page 160 of The Risk Taker
I’m used to him being in the suits every day now. He’s Slade Beaufort, the brilliant businessman. The man he was destined to be before the last few years happened. But at the same time, he’s still my cowboy. A man who needs to feel loved, or he struggles. A man who’s creative and passionate. A man who’s booked a skydive next week because he’s crazy and needs that rush.
A man who’s been helping his uncle work through his guilt.
Mal’s going to therapy, as well as having many late-night talks with Slade and the rest of the family.
He’s also awaiting news on what’s going to happen to him.
For now, the family has maintained the story that Slade had amnesia. There are conspiracy theories circulating online, but mostly, people have accepted it, and the press has already moved on to chasing the next big story. I thought Slade would still hate the idea of that being the angle they go with. But as soon as it became about protecting his uncle, he no longer cared what the world knew. He only cares that his family knows the truth.
They’re waiting for the South African authorities to conclude their investigations. Once they do, and Mal knows the consequences he will face, they’ve vowed they’ll tell the real story, as a family.
But that’s in the future, one not to worry about yet, not when they’ve just left the past behind and are desperately trying to live in the present.
Whatever happens, Slade isn’t going to be facing it alone.
“Is Sullivan still stressing over the final designs of the new pieces?”
Slade chuckles and the sound warms my heart. “Yeah. You know Sull; he’s turned all nightmare CEO on a mission over it.”
“He just wants it to be perfect.” I bite my lip, smiling as I say it.
Apparently, Sullivan’s been more demanding at work than usual. Tate told me he’s been playing his piano past midnight most evenings—something he does when he has a lot on his mind, and that she’s been helping him unwind too. But she’d smiled and blushed as she said it, so I can only assume what the two of them do together to help him relax.
“How about the bespoke boxes?” I ask, admiring Sinclair’s photo.
Sterling asked Slade if he’d be interested in carving a limited number of special edition gift boxes out of driftwood for those clients willing to join a waitlist.
The moment they announced it, they were inundated with requests, and the waitlist has surpassed five thousand already—a number which Slade cannot possibly fulfill. So, instead, he’s agreed to make one hundred and fifty pieces to begin with. And those wishing to receive one will now buy a ticket to be entered into a draw to win one. All the proceeds are going to a sea animal charity that Molly chose.
“I’ve made a few. Do you want to see my favorite?”
“Seriously? We can go inside and look?”
I peer at Slade in excitement. I’ve been inside Beaufort Diamonds multiple times now, but each time still feels special. It’s the way Slade visibly relaxes a little more each time we cross the threshold that carries the magic for me.
He feels at home again. He’s happy.
His brow wrinkles. “No need. I have it here.”
“Oh, okay.” I push back my disappointment as I glance back through the window with longing. Even the giant fish tank in thecenter has had a makeover, with large shells being added, the luster of their inner surfaces gleaming beneath the lights.
“Jude?”
I turn to Slade, and he’s holding a small carved oyster shell.
“It’s like the one you made for me. It’s beautiful.” I smile.
He opens it, revealing a smooth mother-of-pearl interior to the lid, and their signature blue velvet making up the cushion pad where a ring would sit.
“It’s perfect. Imagine being proposed to with that. There’s no way anyone could say no.”
“You think?” Slade looks at the shell thoughtfully.
“Uh, yeah. Are you kidding? She or he would have to be crazy.”
“Or he or she would have to be prepared to take a risk,” he muses. “Agreeing to marry another person and spending the rest of their life with them.”
“It’s not really a risk if you love them.” My heart stutters as Slade’s eyes glitter like sun rays hitting the ocean. “A risk…” I echo, my mouth going dry as he smirks.
