Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)(95)

Soul. Heart. Actions speaking louder than words.

These two assholes can say whatever the hell they want. I’m not falling for it anymore. I see right through it.

For too long, I was a soft, demure little dove. And then they burned me. Scorched me.

Turns out I’m a dragon and I’m fed the fuck up with boys and their bullshit.

My shoulders roll back as I lean against the outside wall of Cartier across the street from The Frontier.

I’m a little hungover today. Winter and I hit it off. Turns out we have more in common than I ever imagined. She’s fun and totally down to drink too much cheap beer and lie on the floor with me.

I have her to thank for the power suit I’m wearing and also for the ride into the city. I also have her to look forward to as a neighbor in Chestnut Springs because once I’m done with this stupid fucking dinner, I’m heading straight back to that little house.

Where I belong. Where I feel like myself. I’ll figure the rest out as I go—for myself.

And there’s something freeing about having no rules. After a lifetime of having a path and plan laid out before me, I’m going to do . . . whatever the hell I want.

I roll my shoulders one more time, check both ways across the four lanes of traffic, and step onto the street.

Even jaywalking feels good.

I give the host a flat smile, holding one hand up. “No, thanks. I know where I’m going.” Without giving him a chance to answer, I march past, right toward the table by the window where two of the men I least want to see are seated.

I thought I’d be nervous, but I just feel . . . exhilarated.

“Dad, Sterling.”

Their heads snap up as though they’re surprised to see me. Usually, a staff member would guide me here, but that’s exactly what I didn’t want.

“Sloaney . . .” Sterling eyes me, head to toe. “You look very severe in that outfit.”

I almost laugh. After months of me ignoring him, that’s what he has to say.

“Thank you.” I shoot him a sarcastic smile before moving to the chair beside the window, across from my dad. As far away from Sterling as possible.

Dad’s eyes sweep over me, assessing me, and I wonder what he sees. I wonder if he can tell I’ve lifted the veil and see him more clearly than ever.

I don’t hate him. I am indifferent toward him.

He used to tell me he wasn’t angry, just disappointed with me. And that’s how I feel about him now.

Deeply disappointed. Because I’ll always love him. He’s always been someone I’ve looked up to, and to find out that was all fabricated, or not true to his character, is disappointing. Knowing that another man in my life didn’t love me quite enough to overcome his own shit stings.

But it stings less with my hair pulled back, nails painted blood red, and wearing a black pantsuit with shiny tuxedo lapels.

Winter was right. I feel ready to kick ass and take names.

“Happy birthday, Sloane,” Robert says, lifting a glass of wine without offering me one.

I reach over and pour myself a big one. Another faux pas at a place like this is not waiting for the server—or to over-pour the way I just did.

But I’m fucking done waiting around for these men to get their shit together, and I deserve a jug of wine for even being here.

“Thanks, Dad,” I finally reply after leaving them both hanging with their glasses in the air while I poured. Clearly, neither of them is gentlemanly enough to offer.

Glasses clink and we drink. I keep my eyes laser-focused on my dad and roll my lips together primly, tasting the wine. It’s expensive, but I’d rather crush a Buddyz Best.

“When’s Mom coming?” I glance around the restaurant, really putting on a show of it, but I know she isn’t coming. She told me she isn’t. Mom also told me she found that video on Dad’s phone and sent it to me anonymously on my wedding day. I assume it was blackmail fodder.

It would seem she and I came to our senses right around the same time. It would seem Robert Winthrop has finally pushed us both too far.

“She’s a little under the weather today. It’s just the three of us tonight.”

“Actually . . .” a voice I never expected to hear chimes in. My heart lurches in my chest, composure slipping for just a second. It feels like I’m moving in slow motion as I turn to see Jasper standing at the end of the table, looking heart-stopping in a perfectly tailored suit, eyes on me, smug grin on his lips. “It’s going to be the four of us.” He steps toward me with authority, leans down and tips my chin up to him, eyes capturing mine with a look of ferocity. “Sunny, I’m sorry I’m late.”

Late.

It’s such a simple sentiment. But it warms me from the inside all the same.

He’s here.

All I can manage is a firm nod, one he returns before pressing a bristled kiss to my forehead and taking a seat beside me.

My rock. My comfort. The boy with the sad eyes and the heart of gold.

I turn toward him. “You have a same.” I glance down at the dainty Rolex on my wrist. “Right now.”

“We made a promise in that truck, remember? I can’t go without you again. Nothing is more important than being here with you.” He palms my knee under the table and inclines his head toward my outfit. “You are stunning, by the way.”