CHAPTER THREE

ATLAS

––––––––

"Why are you cooking?" Knox said, planting himself on one of the stools at my kitchen counter.

"I cook." I said, emptying the premade salad into a bowl.

Levi slides a glass of whisky across the marble and Knox catches it. "We can order pizza if this goes badly."

I snort and turn back to the stove, tossing the steaks into the preheated Le Creuset pan.

They sizzle nicely.

"So how many women have taken over your apartment?" Levi asks Knox.

Molly is there.

It's Payton's bachelorette party and before offering to have my brothers over for dinner, I did recommend we get pizzas and hang out in the movie room while the girls...did whatever they're doing.

My dirty male mind goes to places I'm sure are completely fictional but it's a happy place.

But I am curious about what they're doing given Payton is pregnant and clearly staying sober. Still, does it include strippers like we arranged for Knox's bachelor party?

I'm still hungover.

Fucking tequila.

"I counted ten before I left." Knox shook his head. "All wearing a wide range of pajamas."

I spin.

Levi chokes on his Macallan.

"I'm sorry what?" My spatula almost drops from my hand.

The oven beeps. The scalloped potatoes—that my housekeeper premade—are ready. Fuck the potatoes, I want to hear about the pajama party.

"Why are we here?" Levi asks, coughing some more.

I point my spatula at him and then at Knox in a weird type of agreement. "Yes. That."

"Because my soon-to-be-wife's bachelor party is not a find-your-next-fuck event for my brothers." Knox sips casually, ignoring our glares.

Levi looks at me incredulously, as if our big brother has committed a crime.

He's not wrong.

Talk about breaking the brother code. I'm not sure of the actual rules or guidelines, but this feels like it fits into one clause or another.

Surely.

Especially given it includes Molly.

Which I won't mention.

"So, let's go back to the pajama part. How much pajama are we actually talking about?" I ask, turning back and flipping the steaks.

Knox rolls his eyes.

"Like skimpy little frilly numbers or Batman flannel?"

Levi starts laughing his head off.

"A mix of both"—Knox holds up his hand—"and no we are not going back to mine. The reason we're here, or rather I am not there, is because Payton wants, and I quote, none of your charming brothers around."

I grin. "She called us charming?"

"Yes. But it was said in a tone which tells me she does not think either of you are charming." Knox smiles evilly.

He's enjoying this.

"Lies. Payton likes us," Levi says. "Well, she likes me."

Hey!

"Well," Knox says climbing off his seat and walking over to the crystal decanter for more whisky. "She's stuck with you both for life once she marries me."

Life.

Wow.

It's crazy to think they're getting married this weekend and will spend the rest of their lives together. Honestly, out of all of us, I would have voted Knox the least likely to marry. But he fell hard for Payton right before our eyes. The girl he was not supposed to touch.

While I'm being honest, even though she's pregnant with his child, I did think the novelty would wear off once they were together, but here we are months later and the two of them are so madly in love you'd have to be blind not to see it.

What does Molly think?

She left for England soon after my party so wouldn't have been around them at all. Now, she's coming home to her best friend's wedding.

I wonder if she's happy for them or if she's a jealous friend. Payton is marrying Knox Montgomery, director of marketing at Ward Montgomery Enterprises, or WME as we call it.

Our father's company.

Our company.

Knox is one of the most desirable bachelors in Philadelphia. Or was.

If you believe the media, so are Levi and me. We're Ward's sons—it's part of the territory.

So I've been wondering how Molly feels about all of this, her friend marrying into such a wealthy and influential family.

I want to know what she thinks.

I want to know her.

While Knox heads up the marketing division until he's ready to take on the CEO role, I'm one of the senior designers for our Verity & Co. fashion line —along with a few other brands—and not quite as important as my big brother.

Or so it feels.

No, don't get me wrong. I'm not bitter or jealous. Knox, Levi, and I are as close as three brothers could be. I just wasn't as academic as Knox, nor interested in the economics of business like he is.

While he's the eldest, I'm pretty sure he was born in a suit and tie.

I've always felt like I disappointed my father. I overheard his concerns, and it's stuck.

"Honey, his grades are poor. We should get him a tutor." Ward had said one day when I was unseen in the hallway.

"They aren't poor, he's just not top of the class like his brother," Mom had replied. "Spend more time with him, honey. He's creative. Let Atlas show us who he is."

"I still think he could do with some tutoring." Dad had insisted.

So they did.

For two years at the start of high school I had a tutor a few times a week. I hated it. Levi was a year younger and spent most of his time outside playing sports and I wondered why he wasn't being picked on.

Or so it felt.

I was told he was showing signs of being a great athlete.

Knox was always studying and dating—and I mean that loosely. It was always a given he would take over from Dad and lead WME.

"You will find your place in this world, Atlas. Make sure you get good grades, that is important, but follow your heart, too." Mom had told me.

So I stayed quiet and worked hard, keeping my parents and the tutor happy. But in my spare time I drew.

I drew and drew and drew.

I learned how to use design software and became an expert in a short period of time.

Finally the tutoring ended, and when my end of year results were in and I had top marks in art and creative studies, Dad openly acknowledged my skills.

I will never forget that day.

Mom winked at me, pride all over her face.

Dad invited me to intern in the design department at WME, working on the Verity & Co. brands. I'd known Jin Kwan, the head of design, most of my life, as we'd go into work with Ward from time to time.

I was so damn excited.

After a few years and some damn hard work, I was promoted to the senior designer position.

Yet...

I've always felt my father was disappointed I wasn't, I dunno, more.

Knox will one day take over and lead Montgomery Enterprises. Levi is being heralded the next great quarterback.

Jesus.

I love those guys, but they are huge acts to follow.

I'm a designer.

Big fucking deal.

So I'm not exactly carrying my fair share of the success weight in the family. Averagely successful for a Montgomery.

Mom passed away a few years ago and with her gone and no longer my cheerleader on the sidelines, I suppose I feel like I need to do more.

Which is why I submitted the 2024 Verity & Co. Collection to the Chamber of Fashion Design Awards this year. Or CFD Award as we call it for short.

This was the first season I took the lead on a collection, and I'm determined to win.

I guess I need a fucking trophy on my shelf to tell me I'm successful. Or to prove to my father I'm more than just a designer who contributes to our bottom line.

I'm not a therapist.

When I told Jin, he said it was a great idea but not to get excited as the judges are extremely tough.

I need this trophy.

I'm a goddamn Montgomery. Average is not in my DNA. I need it to show my family I'm great at something.

For me.

Not for them.

I know they don't judge me, and I've never resented my brothers' greatness. Perhaps I'm looking for that strong sense of pride in my father's eyes when he acknowledges me.

To feel deserving of Ward Montgomery's pride once and for all.

Levi will be drafted next year into the NFL.

In a few years Knox will be CEO.

I need this.

The good news is I don't have much longer to wait. The announcement of the winners is on the Monday after Knox and Payton's wedding.

The award ceremony is a few weeks later when the industry gathers.

My elevator dings and I frown.

No one else has...

Oh, wait.

Harlow.

I meet Knox's eyes, and he lifts his brows.

"Five hundy says that's Harlow, not Dad." Levi says, stealing a baby tomato out of the salad bowl.

"Oi." I slap his hand and walk out of the kitchen.

"Hey," Harlow says, dropping a kiss on my lips.

Goddamn her.

She hasn't accepted that we are breaking up. Well she has...but her actions don't match her words.

"Hey." I shake my head behind her back. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm missing a pair of shoes. Thought they might be here," she says, but as she hugs Knox and Levi, we all know that's a lie.

"Looking good." Levi gives her athletic frame an appreciative up and down glance.

It's not sexual. It's an athlete thing. Harlow plays for the Philly women's soccer team. Needless to say there have been a lot of soccer vs. football conversations between them.

"You like?" She twirls, showing off her Lululemon outfit.

"Okay." I head back to the pan, ignoring their interaction. "Go look. I'm just serving up dinner for the guys."

I know she won't find anything.

She never moved in—officially—and we broke up over six months ago.

But this is what she does.

We've had the talk so many times, but it doesn't help when my family loves her so much. Including my father.

If she shows up at his place, he'll invite her for lunch/breakfast/dinner/whatever we are doing.

I'm not doing that today.

"Beer?" Levi asks.

Goddamn him.

"Just one." She smiles over her shoulder. "I don't want to interrupt dinner."

I stab my kitchen tool in the air at my brother with a glare as she wanders down the hall to silence him.

"What?" he mouths.

I shake my head.

When she returns with an inevitable no, not there, I shrug.

Harlow sips the bottle of beer and leans her hip against the bench. "So, what's happening?"

"Bachelorette party at my house." Knox answers.

"Sorry I can't make it to the wedding," she says. "It's probably my dad's last Thanksgiving."

"I understand." Knox shakes his head. "Don't apologize, you're making the right decision."

Oh yeah and her dad has been diagnosed with cancer, making me feel like a bit of an asshole some days. But I just don't love her.

I care.

But she's not the one.

And since meeting Molly, I've been even more sure.

"We're having the entire family over to ours so it's going to be crazy," she says, scratching at the label on the bottle.

I blink for a minute until a couple of dots start to connect.

"Donald Chadwick is married to your cousin isn't he?" I ask, remembering a conversation over dinner at her place with her dad one weekend.

She nods, sipping her beer.

Jesus.

He's one of the judges of the CFD Awards.

After a few more minutes she realizes I'm not inviting her to join us—there are only three steaks, and I need to keep strong boundaries up with her—so Harlow makes to leave.

"I'll walk you out." I slide the steaks onto the plate and let them breathe. Then glance at the guys. "Two minutes."

At the elevator she throws her arms around my neck, and I almost change my mind, but this is important to me.

"Hey, Donald is judging the CFD Award? Any chance you could find out what the vibe is before they announce on Monday?"

She bites her lip.

"Maybe."

I nod, careful not to say anything else.

"If you win can I be your date?" she asks.

"Harl." I sigh.

Her sad eyes dart away. "I know. But if you don't have anyone to go with you, it would be fun."

It would. She's great company. We always got along and she's absolutely stunning.

I'm hoping Molly will be my girlfriend. So I can't promise anything then hurt her again.

I cross my arms and dip my eyes.

"It's fine. I'll see what he says." She touches my arm.

"You know what, don't worry." I say, uncrossing my arms, then leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"You, too," she says as the elevator doors open. The smile she gives me as the doors close doesn't meet her eyes. But it's big and bright and fake.

Goddamn.

Loving Harlow would be easy. She fits into my world and the people in it and loves me.

I return to the kitchen and Levi is eating more of the fucking tomatoes.

"Jesus, just wait." I growl.

"He's always grumpy after seeing her." He grabs another one and jumps away.

I need a change of topic stat.

"So about these skimpy pajama numbers..." I ask, shooting Knox a grin. "Anyone I know wearing them? Like say Molly?"

It wasn't a secret that I was attracted to her on my birthday, so the question isn't unreasonable.

"What happened between you two?" he asks.

That he never asked me before is for one simple reason: he was obsessed with Payton and didn't seem to care about much else.

Now I suppose it's time to discuss it.

But I do not want to be told to keep my hands off the bridesmaid, so I play it cool.

"Nothing. We watched The Simpsons and I sent her home."

It's mostly true.

"Double potatoes for me." Levi rubs his eight pack and is almost salivating at the mouth as I dish it up.

"God, I'm a great cook." I slide cutlery across the marble countertop then circle around and sit with the two of them.

"Settle down Gordon Ramsey, all you did was throw pieces of cow in a hot pan," Knox says, slicing his steak and biting into it. "But damn, it's good."

I grin and dive into mine.

As I'm chewing I realize Knox never answered my question.

"You know, we could hack into your security system and see what the girls are doing."

I'm full of great ideas.

Levi's fork freezes halfway to his mouth and Knox glares at me.

"So that's a no?" Levi checks.

"No." Knox growls.

But he's thinking about it.

And the night is still young.

With a few more well-placed comments the two of us can wear Knox down and have him second guessing what his future wife and all those other women are up to.

He's protective as hell and I'd give him two hours before he breaks and we're peering over his shoulders and watching all those pretty little lacy panties dance around his living room.

My eyes will be seeking out just one pair.

Molly's.

"So, you think they are getting strippers?" Levi asks as he drops his cutlery on his place.

Knox's gaze shoots up. "What?"

I lean back in my chair and grin as he pulls out his phone.