Love on Lexington Avenue(68)
He knew that was why Oliver was here. For the first time in their friendship, Scott hated that their careers were so closely aligned, that Oliver, having an architecture firm that was in-demand in its own right, would know exactly just how in-demand Scott was.
“Ellis called you,” Scott said. Not a question.
Oliver nodded.
Ellis Burke was one of the top real estate investors in the country—in the world. Every architect took his or her project to Burke first, because he had the biggest budget, the biggest vision. And every contractor hoped he or she was on Burke’s short list. Not only because of the money, but because of the sheer challenge of the projects he took on.
“The project’s not one of yours.”
“Nope.” Oliver took a sip of beer. “It’s Marshall Briggs’s out of Dogma.”
Scott grimaced, even though he already knew that. “Prick.”
“Yeah,” Oliver said. “He’s also one of the best, and yes, that pains me to say as a competitor. A Burke/Briggs collaboration’s a damn good opportunity.”
A month and a half ago, Scott wouldn’t have hesitated. A month and a half ago, Scott would already be on his way to China, eager to dive in.
A month and a half ago, Scott didn’t have anyone to leave behind except Bob.
“Why’d he call you?” Scott asked.
“Because he couldn’t get ahold of you,” Oliver said bluntly. “You want to give Burke the runaround, have at it. I know these are big decisions. But why cut me out?”
“I’m sorry,” Scott said, looking Oliver straight in the eye even though he hated to see the hurt and frustration there.
Oliver stared back, then sighed. “It’s fine. I guess. You’ve disappeared on me before. It’s just not usually when you’re still in town.”
Scott knew the other man was simply speaking plainly and didn’t intend to guilt-trip him, but Scott felt the guilt all the same. He was realizing, embarrassingly for the first time, that his fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants lifestyle had made him a pretty shitty friend.
“So, you taking the job?” Oliver asked, his tone a little less curt now.
“It’s in Shanghai,” Scott said.
Oliver shrugged. “I know. But isn’t that sort of your thing? The farther away the gig, the better, right?”
Usually, yes. That was absolutely “his thing.”
Now, though . . .
“Yeah,” he forced himself to say. “I’m taking it. Just haven’t gotten around to getting back to Burke. It’s been busy at Claire’s, and he’s been working out of London, so the time difference . . .”
“The time difference?” Oliver didn’t bother to hide his incredulity. “They’re offering you a chance to build the biggest hotel in the world, and a five-hour time difference is what’s getting in your way of accepting?”
Even Bob was looking at Scott with disdain.
“Scott,” Oliver said, sounding slightly awed.
Scott looked up. Oliver rarely called him by his first name. Usually it was Turner or dude, or any other variety of guy speak. As a rule, Oliver didn’t use his first name, and he definitely didn’t have that surprised, sympathetic note to his voice.
“Is this about Claire?” Oliver asked, when Scott said nothing.
Hearing her name alongside the Shanghai conversation hit Scott hard. He looked away, and his friend swore.
“Damn it, man. I don’t love admitting it, but I think Naomi was right. You two hooking up was a bad idea.”
“If it was a bad idea, it was the best mistake I’ve ever made,” Scott said sharply.
Oliver’s eyebrows went up. “So it’s not just sex. You’re dating.”
“No,” Scott said quickly. “We’re not . . . we haven’t. We’ve just been enjoying each other.”
“Not a horrible idea,” Oliver said. “Unless one of them is a commitment phobe, the other a fragile widow who’s overdue for a little stability. Oh, wait . . .”
“She’s not fragile,” Scott snapped.
“No. You’re right,” Oliver backtracked quickly. “And normally, I’d be all for two consenting adults having sex for as long as it worked out, and then moving on with their lives. But I’m getting the impression that’s not what this is.”
“I don’t know what the hell this is,” Scott said, deciding he needed a beer after all and going to the fridge. “I only know that every time I went to call Burke back, to tell him I’m in, I just . . . couldn’t.”
“Because you were contemplating turning it down? For her?”
“No. This is my life, you know that. I follow the job, not the woman.”
“Lives change. You and Claire know that better than anyone.”
“Because we picked the wrong people to marry when we were twenty-something idiots?”
“Because you know circumstances change,” Oliver reframed. “Maybe this is one of those times. One of those circumstances.”
Scott was already shaking his head. “I’m not some wild young buck biding my time until I’m tamed. This isn’t a phase; this is who I am. I don’t settle down; I don’t stay.”
“Why not?”
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