The Worst Best Man(109)

On Thursday, Frankie found a bundle of fuzzy knee-high socks outside her apartment door. The kind she loved to wear under her boots.

Friday brought a silky soft set of pajamas. Not sexy lingerie but the kind you’d pull on after a long week and live in for the weekend. She’d put them on immediately and curled up on the couch with Aiden’s Yale sweatshirt that she’d pulled from the laundry basket so it wouldn’t lose his scent.

The week was a blur of “no comment” when she (rarely) ventured out in public and unenthusiastic “I’m fines” at work and around her mother’s dining table. She felt cold inside as if she’d taken the winter within her and would never again warm up.

And every night, she fell asleep on the couch without ever turning on the TV, avoiding the big, beautiful bed and its memories.





Chapter Fifty-Eight


Aiden gazed out his office window, ignoring the pile of things that demanded his attention on the desk. He had nothing to give. Just showing up drained him. He was tuned out, shut down, and it was affecting his work. Oscar was walking on eggshells around him. Meetings were magically rescheduled for future dates. His mother spent their entire dinner together last night smiling sympathetically at him.

And Aiden couldn’t rouse himself to care.

His desk phone beeped.

“Yes?”

“There are two burly gentlemen from Brooklyn here to see you,” Oscar announced.

“We’re comin’ in, Aide.” Aiden heard Gio’s voice through the door.

Great. Just what he needed. The Baranski brothers ready to beat the hell out of him.

“Send them in,” he sighed.

A second later, his door opened, and Gio and Marco sauntered in. They were probably playing it cool so Oscar didn’t call security right away.

Marco slumped into one of the visitor’s chairs while Gio prowled the office. Aiden couldn’t tell if he was admiring the view or looking for security cameras.

He waited for one of them to speak first, hurling threats or accusations, demanding sacrificial kneecaps or whatever body part it was the Baranski brothers would break for their little sister.

“Bro, what the hell?” Marco asked, breaking the silence. “You gotta watch yourself around girls like that.”

“Girls like what?” Aiden asked calmly.

“That Margeaux chick,” Gio filled in, coming over to lean against the corner of his desk.

“She exudes evil, man. I’m surprised you fell for it and let her set you up like that,” Marco sighed.

“Set me up? You believe me that nothing happened?”

Gio snorted. “Frankie’s prime rib, and we’re supposed to believe you’d go through the drive-thru for some Skeletor, pinched-face, ball buster?”

“So, you’re not here to beat the shit out of me?” Aiden clarified.

The brothers threw back their heads and laughed but didn’t give him a definitive yes or no.

Aiden’s phone buzzed, and he glanced down at the screen.



Oscar: Do I need to call security?



Aiden: Not unless you hear me sobbing for my mommy.



He returned his attention to the brothers. “Then why are you here?”

“Frankie is wrecked,” Gio announced.

“We figured you probably weren’t doing so hot either,” Marco chimed in.

“You could say that,” Aiden said, looking down at the disorganized mess on his desk. “I need to get her back.”

Marco sighed, and shoved a hand through his thick hair. “I don’t know, man.”

Aiden rubbed a hand over his brow. “No advice, no magic key to make her forgive me?”

“She ever tell you about our second cousin Mattie?” Gio asked.

Aiden shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s because she won’t speak his name. He got gum in her hair when she was nine, and Ma had to cut it out. She didn’t speak to Mattie again until his wedding last year.”

“She’s not big on forgiveness,” Marco said. “Like ever.”

“It can’t be over,” Aiden said, pushing his phone around on the desk. She’d not once responded to one of his texts or gifts. Desperation made his chest ache.

“Ah, shit,” Gio sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Look. You can’t keep texting her and sending her stuff, okay? Anything you do is gonna look like psychological warfare.”

“You want me to just give up?” Aiden asked.

“Nah, man,” Marco said. “Just make it look like you’re giving up.”

“Look, guys. I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m not getting what you’re trying to say,” Aiden said.

“She’s a smart girl, our Frankie. Stubborn but smart,” Gio began.

Marco shifted in his chair. “You fucked up, pretty big. But so did she.”

“She didn’t do anything,” Aiden argued.

“She’s had one foot out the door your entire relationship because she figured it would end bad. She was scared, and if you ever repeat that to her, I’ll fuck you up and lie about it,” Gio said, pointing a finger at him.

“She was just looking for an excuse,” Aiden said half to himself.