“Sounds exhausting.”
“Well, August kept us busy, I can’t deny it.” Whit grins. “But Summer is in her second trimester, so she’s horny as fuck. Wants to jump me all the time.”
“Spare me the details,” I mutter.
He shrugs. “You’re the one who asked.”
True. My mistake.
“Why did you want to see me anyway?” I ask, changing the subject. Feeling impatient. It’s a busy day—when is it not—and I don’t have time to shoot the shit and catch up with my friend, despite my wanting to do so.
Whit frowns. “So formal. Can’t I just want to talk to my old friend?”
“There is always a reason for an unexpected appearance,” I remind him, knowing that Whit doesn’t show up out of the blue just for kicks.
“I wanted to make an appointment, but you’re booked. I even called your secretary.”
“My assistant?” I check my watch. “I do have a meeting in ten minutes.”
“Of course you do.” He sounds irritated.
“Come on, Whit.” My voice softens. “You get it. I know you do.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I do. I’ll be quick.” Whit leans forward, amusement alighting his eyes. I’m sure he’s tripping out that I’m the one with the upper hand in this particular situation, which is a rarity. “I need your help.”
I lean back farther in my chair, angling it so I can look out the window at the cityscape spread out before me. The buildings’ windows glitter in the sun, the towering Manhattan skyscrapers vast and seemingly never-ending. “Not sure I’m the one who can offer assistance.”
“I didn’t even say what I need help with,” Whit points out.
My gaze returns to his, momentarily startled by the serious expression on his face. Guess he actually means business. “Donato Enterprises only assist others in…certain circumstances. You know this.”
The family business is not quite on the up and up, and that’s why Lancasters never get involved in business with Donatos. Oh, we have some legitimate avenues of income. Corporate holdings in various investments, including commodities trading, plus a global hedge fund. We’re worth hundreds of millions and edging closer to the billion-dollar mark, which is my ultimate goal.
But we also dally in things that are…sketchy at best, absolutely criminal at worst.
“It’s personal.” The jovial façade drops, and Whit’s eyes are now full of…is that worry? “It has to do with my sister.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Nope.”
He rears back. I’m sure that’s a word he doesn’t hear too often. “Let me explain.”
“If it has anything to do with Sylvie, I cannot be involved.”
“What if it’s about Carolina?”
“Still can’t be involved.” I won’t touch either of those Lancaster sisters. To help Carolina would make Sylvie horribly jealous. And I can’t help Sylvie. I just…
I can’t.
This isn’t about Carolina though. It’s got Sylvie written all over it. I know it. That’s why Whit came to me. I’ve always been the overeager puppy ready to do Sylvie’s bidding.
Well, not anymore.
“Look, no one understands Sylvie like you do,” he starts, but I interrupt him.
“I don’t know about that. She married someone else. I’m sure he understood her far more than I ever could.”
Whit barks out a laugh. “Not quite. You know that wasn’t a marriage born out of love.”