New York Billionaires Series

Saved by the Boss 62



“Thanks, man.” He looks over and gives a chagrined shrug. “I was at a jewelry store the other day.”

It takes me a moment. “A ring,” I say. “You’re thinking of proposing?”

“Yes. It’s too soon, I know that, and she does too. Hell, she’ll tell me off for proposing to her if I do it now. But I will. Sooner rather than later.”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s fantastic. Truly. You know she’ll say yes.”

“Yes,” Tristan says, smiling. “I do know that.”

I’ve never once thought about engagement rings, but now I wonder what Summer would like. What’s her style?

Understated, I think. Perhaps an original design. Something she can be a part of herself. I can already see her chatting up an attendant, the two of them becoming fast pals as they bond over precious gems.

“Anthony?” Tristan asks. “Was there something in particular you wanted to talk to me about? Is everything okay with Opate?”

“Yes. The app is almost ready to launch. We’ll run a trial period of three months, iron out any bugs, and by then it should be ready to launch nationwide.”

“Excellent,” he says. “Keep us in the loop.”

“Will do.” I don’t know how to say the rest. The words sit in my throat, choking me. With Summer it was… easier. But there’s no way to start this conversation.

I find it, though. It’s not surprising which path my mind takes. “There is something, actually.”

“About Opate Match?”

“In a way, I suppose,” I say. “I’m dating Summer Davis. The owner’s niece.”

Tristan’s look is one of bafflement. Then he laughs, smile widening. “Anthony!” he says. “I did not expect that at all.”

“Honestly, neither did I.”

“How did this happen?”

I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “It’s unprofessional.”

“I dated an intern at the company I was CEO of,” Tristan replies. “I’m not about to judge.”

“Turned out great for you, though.”

“Best mistake I ever made,” he agrees. “So? Is this serious?”

“It could be, yes. I think it will be.”

“But you’re not sure,” he guesses.

I look at the pond in the distance, the tall, summer-green trees that line it. It’s been a long time since I’ve simply walked in the park for the joy of it. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything simply for the joy of it. Long before Summer.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” I say. “Two years ago, I had to go the doctor’s. For my eyes.”

“Yes. As it turned out, I’m losing my eyesight. It’s been deteriorating ever since.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, but so am I, both of us staring at the park teeming with life. A group of children run shrieking down a hill, one being chased, the others following suit.

When Tristan finally speaks, it’s with such startling sincerity that it makes me laugh. “Well, fuck.”

“Yes,” I agree. “That was my immediate reaction too.”

“There’s nothing to be done to stop it?”

I shake my head. “Just monitoring it regularly. They don’t know how long it’ll take, but in all likelihood, I’ll be completely blind sooner or later.”

“I’m sorry. I wish there was something else I could say, but that’s just… I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks. Anyway, it’ll have some consequences for the company.”

“The company,” he repeats.

“Acture Capital. I won’t be able to continue, when… well. When it gets to that stage.”

He’s quiet for a beat. Then Tristan does something we haven’t done in forever. He pulls me in for a one-armed hug.

I return it, thumping against his back and swallowing thickly.

“You’re part of the company,” he tells me. “Hell, you and I were the ones who started it. Of course you’ll still be a part of it, if you want to. Perhaps your role will have to change, but there’s technology for that, right? I don’t know shit about what it’s like to live blind.”

“Neither do I,” I say. He returns my grin, and we stand there, a hand on each other’s shoulders, smiling fiercely.

“Two years,” he says.

“Two years,” I confirm.

“You should have told me.”

“It took me a long time before I could bear to hear the words spoken out loud.”

He nods, once, and lets his hand fall from my shoulder. “Well,” he says. “I know now. Do you want to talk about it?”

I find, to my surprise, that I do. His advice has steered me right on countless business decisions before, just as mine has done for him. I remember sitting next to him, devastated, when he told me about the news of his sister’s death. Of his decision to adopt Joshua.

I hadn’t run away then.

He won’t now.

I crawl into bed that night, exhaustion like a thick fog around me. The headache is back. I’d succumbed to takeout for dinner. But I fall asleep without a glass of scotch, without a painkiller, and without Summer beside me in bed.

Small signs of progress.

It gives me false confidence. After working for a few hours the next day, I surf the web for resources on how to live blind.


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