Grayson sent the netsukes a greedy look before pulling out a money clip from his jacket pocket. ‘It’s entirely possible.’
Rowan took the cash from his hand, stood up and dropped a kiss on the balding crown of his head. ‘Thanks. Enjoy.’
‘If you ever want to sell the Laughing Buddha I’m your man.’
Rowan shook her head. ‘I’ll tell the new owner, but he won’t sell it.’
‘Gave it away...sacrilege.’ Grayson gestured to the pile of food still on the table. ‘Where are you shooting off to in such a hurry? We’ve hardly made a dent in the food.’
Rowan grinned at him. ‘Home. I’m going home.’
* * *
Dusk was falling and it looked as if someone was randomly sprinkling lights over Scarborough as the sea darkened to cobalt and then to midnight-blue. It was Seb’s favourite time of the day and, pre-Ro, he had often spent this half-hour at his desk, whisky in his hand, just watching the transition from night to day. With all the lights in his office off, his staff, who were still at their stations in the War Room, knew better than to disturb him.
Seb took a sip of his whisky, felt the burn and was grateful he could feel anything.
Since Rowan had left he’d felt numb. And that was when he wasn’t feeling lost and sad and crap. He was feeling opposed to thinking and he didn’t like it at all. This was why he didn’t get emotionally involved; this was why he kept his distance.
He was a walking, talking cliché. Drinking too much, thinking too much, wishing too much. Finding things to do so that he didn’t go to sleep, because she was there in his dreams and it hurt too damn much when he woke up, rolled over and realised—again—that she wasn’t there.
He just hurt. Full-stop.
The lights flashed on overhead and he lifted his hand against the glare. ‘What the...? Dad?’
‘Drinking in the dark is a new low, even for you,’ Patch said cheerfully, sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. He gestured towards his half-full glass. ‘Got another of those for your old man?’
Seb pushed the glass across the desk. ‘Take this one. I’m going to hit the gym and try and work out my frustration.’
‘Horny?’ Patch joked, but his eyes were serious.
Seb couldn’t find the energy to pretend. ‘Just sad.’
‘You do have it bad. Have her bad.’ Patch sipped the whisky, put his ankle over his knee and looked at his son. ‘I thought she’d be the one to get hurt, yet you are taking a pounding.’
‘Yeah.’ That summed it up.
‘I’m going to marry Annie,’ Patch said, and Seb’s head snapped up.
He was wallowing and his father was getting married? What the—?
‘She doesn’t know, and I haven’t said anything, but she’s the one. I just want to be with her for ever. I know it in here.’ He thumped his heart. ‘So do you, if you’d stop thinking so much and take a chance.’
Jeez, he’d tried. His father didn’t know that he was the one who’d asked her to stay, to give them some time, so he briefly explained the situation.
Patch sent him a pitying look. ‘So you asked her to stay...what did that mean?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Did you tell her that you love her? That you want to be with her?’ Patch demanded.
‘No. I just asked her to stay, to give me time to think. I just wanted time to figure it out,’ Seb protested.
‘And if she’d given you that time and you’d decided that you didn’t love her? What then? Where would she have been then?’ Patch demanded. ‘What reason did you give her to stay? Why would she stick around, running the risk of getting closer to you, when she knew she could get heart-slammed at the end of it?’
Seb dropped an F-bomb and his head. ‘I didn’t think about it like that.’
‘What is the one thing Rowan has been looking for all her life, Seb?’
‘Uh...’
‘Love, acceptance, a place and a person she can belong to. How can somebody as smart as you not know this?’
He wasn’t smart with people. He never had been.
‘So, what are you going to do about it, Seb? Are you going to track her around the world like you do your mum? Never making contact and making yourself miserable? Or are you going to reach out and try and make this work?’
Seb felt the slap of Patch’s words. ‘What? Whoa, back up! Do you think I should contact my mum?’
Patch sighed. ‘I think that you either have to or let her go. Callie and I, we’re reconciled to the fact that she is out of our lives. We’re over it—over her. You? Not so much. I think it would be healthier if you either had a relationship with her or if you cut ties completely. No man’s land is no place to operate from. Same with Rowan. Either take a chance or let her go. Don’t be half-assed about it.’