would she care if he was there or not?
Damn, but she confused him. And because he didn’t like it and because he was a man, he chose to ignore what he didn’t understand. So he nodded at the list that she still held in her hand. ‘Okay, get the windows sorted then you can get cracking on that.’
Riley balled up the list in her fist and pitched it at him. It bounced off his chest and fell to the floor. ‘I’ll do it … Mmm, never. Does that work for you?’
WHERE MORGAN MOREAU had her jewellery design studio on the top floor of her family’s building, Riley’s studio was in the basement, where she had ample space to build sets, paint backdrops and assemble mannequins and models. She had an office built into the back corner, as brightly decorated as her apartment in Tribeca. Colourful prints, a cherry-red wall, a lime desk.
She was an artist; colour was what she did. Who she was. She would wither up and die if she had to live in a stark-white apartment like James’s.
She loved her office, her basement, her cave, Riley thought, handing Morgan, who was curled up on her raspberry couch, a cup of coffee. How was she going to leave it?
‘I don’t want you to leave,’ Morgan said, echoing her thoughts, as she often did. Her bottom lip wobbled and Riley felt the corresponding tickle of emotion in the back of her throat. ‘I know I said that I understood but I don’t, not really.’
Riley sat down in her turquoise wingback chair and pursed her lips. ‘Sometimes I don’t either but I feel compelled to go, to shake things up a bit, to try something new.’
‘Is this about James—about what happened in July?’
‘I think it’s a culmination of the last decade of what’s happened between James and me. I hate that we are so estranged.’ She looked at Morgan and knew that she could be honest with her. ‘But there’s more … I miss you, miss the time you and I spent together. Before you met Noah again and I slept with James again, I had your time and company—’
‘Oh, Riley, I’m so sorry—’
Riley held up her hand. ‘Don’t, Morgs. I’m happy for you—nobody is more happy for you than me. But those nights we spent together, eating out, at home—when James and I were still talking—’
‘Bickering,’ Morgan interjected.
‘Whatever. Your company, his company, the time we spent together, fuelled me. Then you got engaged to Noah and now he’s your priority and James and I stopped talking altogether and … and I miss my life. I can’t go back so I need to go forward. We are all on different paths and this isn’t my place any more. I need to find my place and I think Cape Town might be it.’
‘Your place is with James,’ Morgan stated firmly. ‘It’s always been with him but he’s too much of a stubborn ass to admit it.’
Riley stared off into the distance. ‘It’s not all his fault, Morgs. I’m just as much to blame for this mess as he is; possibly more so. He asked me to give him—us a chance, but I went travelling instead.’
Morgan frowned. ‘You weren’t ready … you were so young … nineteen! ‘
‘I was scared! Scared of what I felt for him, scared of what he made me feel! My dad’s fear that he could hurt me fuelled my own fears—he was a rich guy and I was just a farm girl; he was older, sophisticated, I was just a passing fad for him, et cetera, et cetera—and I used his arguments as a reason to run. The truth was that I was too much of a coward and the timing has never been right again. I had my chance and I blew it to hell and back.’
‘Maybe you could—’
Riley reached over and grabbed Morgan’s hand, waiting for their eyes to connect. ‘Morgs, stop. I know you want to see James and me together, but if it was going to happen it would’ve happened by now. After he rejected me—us—in July I’ve let that idea go and you need to let it go too. It’s not going to be, honey.’
Morgan let out a long breath. ‘It’s against all the rules of the universe.’
Riley squeezed her hand, harder this time. “Let it go. Concentrate on your wedding and your own happiness; I will find mine in time.’
Morgan frowned in warning. ‘It had better be with some man I love and adore. And he’d better be hot!’
Nobody would be as hot as James but she could try. ‘In the meantime, I have to get my stunning windows up and James is insisting that I work until the last day of December.’
‘Control freak. Okay, so just clock in every morning and lie here and read or paint. Sneak out of the building and go shopping, skating, look at all the Christmas windows. New York at Christmastime is stunningly beautiful. Do what you normally do when you have some free time.’
‘I would if I could but His Highness wants me to work work. He has this list of things he wants me to take care of.’
Morgan cocked her head. ‘Like?’
‘Decorating his apartment, organising his Christmas cocktail party, finding my replacement.’ Riley folded her arms. ‘Well, I refuse to do it.’
Riley didn’t see the mischievous light that came into Morgan’s eyes, didn’t see the hope that flared within them. She was too busy feeling aggrieved to notice that Morgan had turned contemplative and … sneaky. ‘Well, if you do it time will go faster. The days will drag if you do nothing at all and you hate doing nothing.’
‘I have an apartment to pack up and I have a ticket to fly home on Christmas morning.’
Morgan looked horrified. ‘On Christmas morning? Noooo, Riley … why?’
‘What else am I going to be doing? My family is all in Botswana for Christmas this year.’
‘I hate the thought of you spending the happiest day of the year in the air.’
Actually, it was the best way to spend Christmas if you were single and your family had left your childhood home to spend the holidays in another country with their oldest son.
That was if she could, somehow, persuade James to let her go so that she could catch her flight.
‘You suck,’ Morgan said as she stood up. She leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Do what James asks. It will make the time fly and keep you busy and—’
Riley frowned at Morgan’s hesitation. ‘What?’ she demanded.
‘Well, you have given him a lot of grief over the years, Ri … with your overspending and your intransigence when it comes to your designs. No other CEO would’ve given you so much freedom, leeway. He’s been remarkably good, for a control freak, about allowing you to do your own thing. And you get paid well.’
Riley thought of her fat bank account and readily accepted that she could be a bit diva-ish when it came to her art. ‘So you think I should
