Chapter 23

23

B y the time I drag my suitcase into the lobby, it feels like it's lined with lead.

Or maybe that's just me. I'm the one that's lined with lead. There's a heavy, sinking feeling in my chest I can't shake.

John the Maid, Aggie, and Dilys are all seated on the worn sofa opposite the desk. Aggie has her arm around Rosie, who's blowing her nose quietly. A plate of Aggie's cookies sits untouched on the low coffee table, as do the cups of tea surrounding it. Dilys looks sad and John the Maid seems kind of shell-shocked.

Ellis waits for me by the reception desk, his beautiful blue eyes no longer bright. I prop my case beside the desk and move closer, feeling my stomach clench painfully when he gives me a smile that's a pale shadow of the ones I've come to treasure.

"Ellis," I whisper, feeling helpless.

"It's okay," he says with so much understanding that my eyes sting. "Once he's calmed down, I'll speak to your grandfather. Just promise me you'll still call him. I'm know that talking to him is sometimes like trying to handle a live grenade, but I don't want you to miss out on a relationship with him, not when I know the man beneath the grumpiness." His small smile takes on a touch of humour. "And that's true of both of you. You clash because you're so similar, but if you leave things unsaid, I think you'll both be missing out on something special."

I nod. "I will. Of course I'll call him."

"Good." Ellis swallows hard. "That's good because we'll have to—" He breaks off and draws in a steadying breath, then continues. "When the time comes, he'll need somewhere to live. I'll being going back to my mum's, but I can take him with me. He can have my room, and I'll sleep on the sofa until we can find something else."

I frown at the thought. "I'll make sure he's taken care of, no matter what he needs. I promise."

Ellis nods, staring down at the floor. I slip my fingers under his chin and lift so his eyes meet mine.

"I'm so grateful for the time we had together," he whispers before I can say anything. "I don't have any regrets, and I hope you don't either."

"I wish we had more time," I confess.

"So do I." He reaches up and smooths down my jacket. "But life isn't like that, is it? You have a life in New York to get back to. But I'll always treasure what we shared."

Unable to look into those sad blue eyes any longer, I turn my gaze to the others. I'm not sure what to say to them either.

"Take care of yourself, Morgan," Aggie says. "Despite the way things have turned out, I'm glad I got the chance to see you again. Give my best wishes to your mum."

"I will." I swallow tightly and nod to the others, who don't seem any more inclined to speak than I am. Grasping the handle of my case, I force a smile at Ellis and walk toward the front door.

I've barely made it two steps when I stop abruptly and turn around. The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Come with me."

Those beautiful baby blues widen. "What?"

"Come with me to New York," I repeat with more conviction, even though part of me knows he won't. I can see in the yearning look on his face how much he wants to say yes.

"I can't," he whispers, just as I knew he would. "I wish I could, you don't know how much I wish I could, but I can't leave them, not now, and even if I could, I don't have a passport."

"I don't?—"

"I know." Ellis steps into me, his small, lithe body pressing against me. "Just kiss me and say goodbye, Morgan."

I'm not prepared for the sharp pain in my heart when he rises up on his toes and plants a sweet, lingering kiss to my lips.

"Safe journey," he whispers.

Not trusting myself to say anything more, I turn around and walk out of the hotel that I'd wanted so badly to hate and ended up loving in a strange way.

I head down the main steps outside, which are slippery with slush and ice. The car is parked in the drive, the door open and the driver waiting to take my luggage, so I hand it off to him without a word.

Sliding into the soft leather seats, I close the door and take one last look up at my ancestral home that's filled with quirky people I've come to care for. My heart gives a dull thud. The driver climbs in and starts the engine, then navigates carefully down the long, freshly cleared driveway to the road beyond.

I'm not sure how long it takes to get to Manchester, but I'm only ten minutes into the journey when my phone rings. Pulling it from my pocket, I see it's Warren wanting to video chat.

"No need to check in on me. I'm in the car heading towards Manchester, should make the flight with time to spare."

"You're in the car? On your way to the airport?" he says, and something in his voice pings on my Jesus Christ, fucking Warren radar.

"Why are you repeating it like that?" I ask suspiciously.

"Oh, you know, no reason."

"Warren, there's always a reason with you."

"Okay, fine." He gives me a rather toothy grin. "There's no board meeting, and in the interest of full disclosure, there's no flight either."

"What?" I fumble my phone, almost dropping it.

"Surprise!"

I suck in a slow breath and try to rein my temper in, then lean forward and tap the driver on the shoulder. "Excuse me, would you mind pulling over for a minute so I can explain in great detail to my brother all the ways I'm going to murder him when I get home?"

I see the curve of the driver's cheek as he does what I've asked with a polite, "Yes, sir, of course."

Taking another calming breath, because in this family it's never too young to start thinking about your blood pressure, I lift my phone and fix my brother with a glare.

"Explain."

"I was trying to help," he says quickly. "I mean, this past week I've never seen you so relaxed and happy. Fuck, Morgs, you smiled! I haven't seen that many of your teeth since you got your retainer removed. Whatever is going on in that crazy English manor house is obviously what you need."

"So you thought you'd drag me from the crazy English manor house and make me drive needlessly to a city seventy miles away to get on a nonexistent plane to attend a nonexistent board meeting because that helps how?"

"I know you, Morgan, and you always overthink everything and get all up in your head. I just thought I'd give you a little nudge in the right direction."

"I'm still not following your insane thought process."

"I thought you'd choose not to go if you were faced with the choice." He shrugs a bit diffidently, and I'm not falling for it. "I figured that, rather than come back to New York, you'd realise how you felt about the little blonde cutie—who I guarantee was the one to put that smile on your face, not some drafty old building—and decide to stay. When I called to tell you to get your ass home, I kinda hoped you'd tell me to fuck off."

"Fuck off."

"Too late now."

"Warren." I pinch the bridge of my nose to stave off the migraine I'm sure is brewing, one whose name is Warren. "Sometimes I don't know whether to hug you or strangle you."

"And that's why I'm calling you now, while you're still freezing your ass off in the middle of the English countryside and I'm safely tucked away on a different continent, instead of when you're back in the same city as me and can cause actual bodily harm."

"You exhaust my brain."

"What a coincidence." Warren grins. "I exhaust my brain too."

I let out a loud sigh and look up at the roof of the car while I try to sort through my tangled thoughts.

"You don't have to come back, you know," Warren offers softly.

"That is evident by the fact that I'm not actually booked on a flight," I grumble.

"No, I mean you don't have to come back."

I frown at the phone screen. "Thanks for clearing that up."

"Morgs, you can work remotely, you can fly back for the occasional meeting—hell, you could cut back completely. We can hire another CEO and you can just live off your share of the profits. I know you love the hotel business, but this high-end, rich people's bullshit was Dad's dream."

"You do realise we are part of the rich people bullshit," I point out.

"Why actually yes, Morgs, I do, and that is making my point for me. You have choices. You don't have to kill yourself flying back and forth for an endless stream of meetings you hate. You were always happiest on the hotel floor, running things on the ground. This CEO shit makes you miserable. I've spent years watching you slowly disappear, and you know what I've seen every time we've spoken this week?"

"What?"

"My brother," he says simply. "The one who used to laugh and smile."

"Ren." I blow out a breath. "It's not as simple as that. My grandfather's hotel is on the verge of closing and is about to go to auction, and all the people living there, including him, are about to be homeless."

"So go and save it." He grins, and it's the same grin he always used when he dared me to do something that would no doubt result in both of us being grounded. "I know you love a challenge."

"It isn't?—"

"As simple as that. Yes, I know, you already said so. But things that are simple are rarely worth it," he replies a little more soberly. "Things have been crazy this last year since Dad died, and we both just slid into the roles he'd carved out for us when we were kids. Maybe it's time to reevaluate what we want out of life, whether that's continuing his legacy or carving out something of our own."

"You're very introspective all of a sudden. What's going on?"

He shrugs.

"Warren? What's going on."

"I ran into Jonah," he says quietly.

"Ah, your unicorn," I murmur.

"Don't call him that." He shakes his head. "Anyway, this isn't about him. This is about you and what you want for yourself, and forgive me, but I think what you want might just be a run-down, quirky hotel with a gorgeous twinky desk clerk. So the question now is, what are you going to do, big bro?"

"I love you. You know that, right?"

"I love you too." Warren smiles. "And enough of all this mooshy shit. Go get your twink."

"Stop calling him that." I sigh and, rolling my eyes, hang up on the sound of Warren's cackle of laughter.