Page 45 of The Last Goodbye

“Don’t apologize. I can tell how close you were. Of course it’s got to be difficult to talk about.” I leaned back in my chair and watched her.

She was fucking beautiful. No doubt about it. And she was showing me a vulnerable side of herself, which I hadn’t expected.

Her vulnerability made her even more beautiful.

“Are you close to your mom now?” she asked.

“No. But she did give me my sister, Jovi, and for that, I’ll always be grateful. But my mother—she’s messed up one too many times for me to forgive her.” I put my hands up in defense. “I probably sound like an even bigger asshole saying that, because I know you miss your mom. But I was forced to have boundaries with this woman many years ago, or she would’ve taken us all down with her.”

“Listen, there’s no judgment here. I get it. I have a father I try hard to have a relationship with, and it’s not because I think he’s this wonderful man.” She chuckled. “But he and Denton are the only family I have.”

I waited for her gaze to meet mine. “I’m sorry for misreading you. For thinking you were all about making money and taking out whoever was in your way.”

I wasn’t big on apologies, but this one felt easy now.

I was wrong. She deserved to hear me say it.

“I can’t believe you officially said the words. You had me at the eggs Benedict.” She smiled, and I knew my words meant something.

“I knew I fucked up last night, and I knew I owed you an apology.”

“I think that’s why what you thought about me hit me so hard.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Her long blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes darkened when they locked with mine.

“Why?”

I wanted to know. I needed to know.

“Because I have so much of my mother in me, and it’s important to me that I keep that. She was a hard worker, and she didn’t give a shit about money. She always said that we had enough. We were together. We had a roof over our head and good food on the table. She was always there for her friends and coworkers, and ready to jump in and help anyone in need. She had the biggest heart, and I loved that about her. We had many friends stay with us in our tiny apartment over the years when they were going through hard times. She’d offer them the couch, and she’d cook for them, and they felt more like family.” She blew out a strained breath. “I want to use the opportunity I have now to do good things. Yes, we can put up properties that make money, but we can also help people along the way. I truly believe that everyone can win if you just take the time to look at the situation and find a positive outcome for all involved parties. And that’s important to me.”

“And I accused you of doing the exact opposite.”

She nodded. “You aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last. I work for Winchester Investments, and when people learn that I’m William Winchester’s daughter, they automatically assume I grew up with money, and they make judgments about me. I can’t control that. I have opportunities now that I never had, so I don’t want to sound ungrateful. But at the end of the day, I’m my mother’s daughter, and I’m in a unique situation where I can try to make a difference in the position that I’ve taken at the company.”

“Damn. That’s impressive shit, Magpie.” I shook my head with disbelief.

“Is that the champagne talking, McGrumpy?” she teased.

“Nah. I can hold my liquor. Drinking a few glasses of champagne doesn’t hit me the way it’s hitting you.”

“And how is it hitting me?” she asked, her words slurring the slightest bit.

“I own a restaurant—I know the signs.”

“Tell me.” She reached for her glass before polishing it off.

I chuckled. “Your words are a little slurred, your cheeks are pink, and your eyes are red.”

And you’ve never looked more fucking beautiful than you do in this moment.

“They are not,” she said as a loud hiccup escaped her. She covered her mouth with her hand and then fell back in a fit of laughter. “Well, maybe I am a little tipsy.”

“That’s all right. You’ve earned it. You’ve been working your ass off, and you had to fight me at the same time.”

“Damn. You’re so right. You’re an exhausting man, Bass Bennett.”

“You’re not the first to tell me that.” I moved to the bar, poured her a large glass of water, and returned to the table. “Drink this.”

“Who was the last woman to tell you that you’re exhausting?” she asked as she took a sip of water and groaned.