A docuseries featuring the sisters and their men is ongoing and more current, but We Are Calloway is critically acclaimed and covers serious topics like addiction and PTSD. Maybe too highbrow for this girl since she doesn’t mention it.
I’m not in the mood to explain how I’m connected to the Calloways, but luckily I have Ana here willing to do it for me.
She’s focused on her boyfriend. “You do know who Loren Hale is, right? If not, we can no longer date.” She crosses her arms over her chest, like she’s serious about this.
Jesus.
This is dumb.
It’s like watching a fucking train wreck with Interpol still blaring in the background. Loren Hale should never be the decider for any relationship. If he were, mine would have ended before it even began.
Jared doesn’t blink. “Everyone knows Loren Hale.”
That’s just not true, but okay.
“Prove it.” Ana arches a brow.
“He owns Superheroes & Scones and Hale Co. I have his baby oil in my shower.” Way too much information from my neighbor. And it’s not specifically Loren’s bottle of baby oil. The family-owned company manufactures baby products. Hale Co. is one of the most well-known brands in the country.
Jared looks to me. “Loren is also married to the sex addict Calloway sister.”
My skin crawls with how Jared just described Lily Calloway. Like that’s all she’s fucking known for. Not the fact that she’s the one who actually owns Superheroes & Scones. At one point in my life, I even worked for her.
Jared looks to me and continues on. “But I don’t get it. How do you know Loren Hale?”
I open my mouth.
But Ana answers first. “He’s dating Loren Hale’s little sister.”
And there it is.
I shouldn’t be famous. I shouldn’t be recognizable, especially when I’m not always around Loren or any of the Calloways. But it’s happening. And there’s only a small comfort in knowing that Ana at least took a few minutes to double check her phone before being able to recognize me.
It wasn’t instant recognition.
Good.
“Huh,” Jared muses.
“I’m going to turn my music down,” I say before either of them can jump in. “Keep the banging to a minimum and we won’t have problems.”
“Wait, it’s my birthday.” Ana hooks her arm with Jared’s. “Do you think you could like call Loren and have him wish me a happy birthday. Just really quick. It doesn’t even need to be FaceTime. Hearing his voice would be the literal best birthday present ever. I’m a huge fan.”
I glance to her boyfriend.
Jared’s gaze is pleading. Practically saying, come on, man, help me out. Like he wants me to give him points with his girl so he can get a blow job later tonight.
I do have Loren Hale’s number.
My gaze settles on Ana. “I already gave you your birthday present,” I say. “Ask your boyfriend about it.”
I shut the door on them.
Immediately, I go to my stereo, lowering the music to a tolerable level. My ears ring. My head throbs. I collapse on my mattress and stare up at a yellow stain on the ceiling. Seconds later, the EDM starts up next door again. But it’s softer and no longer vibrates my walls and desk.
Willow did the right thing—leaving.
She can’t make real connections here. Everyone eventually recognizes her as Loren Hale’s sister, and in London, she has a chance to fall under the radar.
My phone vibrates.
It’s now almost 3 a.m. Which means it’s almost 8 a.m. in London.
Excitement thrums my veins, thinking it’s her, but when I see the text, it’s worse than a balloon pop. It’s like someone shot a bullet at a blimp.
The person who texted me… It’s my boss.
Connor Cobalt: Meeting tomorrow. 11 a.m. My office.
He attached a screenshot of the drug test I took my first day on the job.
It came back positive.
Fuck.
42
garrison abbey
He shouldn’t have given me this job. It’s what I know as I face the twenty-nine-year-old business titan. Connor Cobalt is the CEO of Cobalt Inc., a company that has a hand in just about everything you can think of. Magnets. Paints. Diamonds. The list goes on and on. One big company owning smaller subsidiaries.
So the day Connor looked at me and said he wanted me to create something for him—I should have rejected the offer. There’s no way this is going any other direction than south. Fast.
I don’t even look like I should be working here.
He fixes the cuffs to his thousand-dollar Armani suit.
I’m wearing black jeans and a hoodie. Though, he did tell me on the first day that I could wear whatever the fuck I wanted. So that’s on him.
His blue eyes collide with mine as he reaches for his coffee. Intimidating is probably too delicate a word to describe this guy. He oozes I’m fucking better than you charisma. And don’t ask me how it’s charismatic. It should come across like he’s an asshole, but it actually doesn’t.