Once again, Mom remained silent on the other end for several seconds. I could only imagine her hand on her chest, twirling that ever-present strand of pearls. “Richard and Bree are getting a divorce.”

And with that, I saw red.

“And you’re calling to tell me this bullshit why?”

“He’s your brother, Rowan,” Mom spoke incredulously, as though she couldn’t understand the disdain I held for my brother, a brother I’d shared a womb with. Twins were supposed to be closer than any other two people on the planet, after all.

“Are you serious with this shit right now?” I bit out, the frustration in my veins quickly turning into rage as my vision clouded with red.

“Rowan Anderson Locklaine!” Mom chided. “You will watch your language when you’re speaking to me.”

Usually, a quick reprimand from Marie Locklaine was enough to put me in my place and leave me feeling like an insolent child, but not at that moment.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” I laughed sarcastically. “You call me up to inform me of my brother’s divorce from Bree, and you don’t think I have a right to be pissed off? Fuck that!”

“Rowan, please. He’s your brother. He’s hurting. Would it kill you to reach out to him? Be there for him when he needs you?”

“You’re asking if it would kill me to call the man who slept with the woman I loved, the woman who was supposed to be the mother of my child, the woman he then married after she crushed my fucking heart, and offer up my support? Is that what you’re asking?”

“Rowan,” she whispered through the line heartbreakingly. Hearing the tears in her voice only added to the burning sensation I felt at the wounds of my past being sliced back open.

“Yes, Mother. As a matter of fact, it would kill me. I couldn’t give two shits what happens to either of them, or how badly they’re hurting. And I can’t believe you’d even ask that of me.”

“Rowan, please,” she pleaded, but I was done.

“I have to go, Mom,” I said before disconnecting the call without letting her get another word in. My blood was boiling, my heart pounding in a rapid staccato. My chest heaved with each breath I pulled into my lungs. Before I could register what was happening, the phone in my hand flew through the air, smashing into the wall with a pleasurable crack as it shattered against the drywall. I had no idea how long I stood there, staring down at my mangled phone, the broken pieces scattered across the dark hardwood floor. It wasn’t until I heard a faint knock on the door to my office that I was pulled from my silent rage long enough to remember that Navie was there… in my house… invading my space when all I wanted was to be left the hell alone.

“What?” I spit as I yanked the door open.

She jolted back slightly in surprise, or it could have been fear, I wasn’t sure. But I had no doubt I looked positively feral as I stared down at her across the threshold.

“Uh…” She looked up at me with uncertainty, a mug of warm coffee in her extended hand. “I-I brought you your coffee.”

I sidestepped her small frame and started toward my bedroom. “Don’t want it,” I grunted. “And get me a new goddamned phone,” I barked at her from over my shoulder before slamming my bedroom door. I quickly changed into my workout clothes and headed for my home gym.

I knew the only way to expel the fury inside me was to beat it into submission by working out, taking my anger out on my body physically in the form of exercise.

My truce with Navie was long forgotten as I passed her in the hall without as much as a word in her direction. Fuck a truce. If she was going to work for me she’d just have to take me as I was. I’d already altered myself for one woman in my life, and look where that had gotten me. If she couldn’t hack it, that was her own damn fault.

“You know I hate you a whole lot right now, don’t you?” I ignored Harlow’s grumbling as I moved to the next vendor. New York street fairs were my crack. I was addicted to going from booth to booth, finding hidden gems I could turn into the most beautiful jewelry.

“Hey!” Harlow poked me in the side, drawing my gaze away from the beautiful ruby-red glass beads I’d been admiring. “Pay attention to me! I’m mad at you right now. You’re supposed to be apologizing profusely. Is it too much to ask that you grovel a little bit? I mean, you did rip me from my beauty sleep at the butt crack of dawn so I could help you scavenge for treasures in the middle of the summer.”

Turning in my friend’s direction, I propped my hands on my hips and glared from behind my sunglasses. “Stop being such a baby. I woke you up at nine-thirty. That’s hardly the butt crack of dawn.”

The hand that wasn’t holding her Starbucks cup came to rest on her trim waist, her hip jutting out as she took her bitch stance. “I have boob sweat, Navie. Boob sweat!”

The short, pudgy vendor we were standing in front of cleared his throat awkwardly, drawing my gaze away from Harlow just in time to see his beady little eyes hone in on her chest.

I let out an annoyed breath as I turned back to my friend. “If you’ll give me just one more half-hour without your constant bitching, I’ll make you a pretty necklace,” I cajoled.

I could almost see the wheels turning from behind her large sunglasses. “Throw in a matching bracelet and we’ve got a deal.”

“Fine.” I held out my hand and we shook on it briefly before wandering to another booth.

“Soooo,” she dragged out as we walked at a leisurely pace. “How’s it going working for Satan himself?”

I let out a disheartened groan as we continued to walk. “I swear to God. If the paycheck hadn’t looked so pretty deposited into my account, I’d have quit by now. The man is a freaking nightmare.” Two and a half weeks had passed since I started working for the famous Rowan Locklaine, and I was no closer to liking the man than I had been on day one. I thought I’d seen just a smidge of humanity in his startling blue eyes that day I’d stumbled in on him naked in the kitchen, but my hopes had gone up in a puff of smoke the instant he’d opened his office door. The asshole had returned after a brief reprieve, and it appeared he planned to stay.

“Is he really that bad?” Harlow asked, sucking down the last of her coffee and tossing the cup in a trashcan as we passed.

“Yes, he’s really that bad. I swear, whenever the man opens his mouth, I get all stabby. Amazing looks were wasted on Rowan Locklaine.”

“If only you were deaf,” Harlow joked with a nudge to my shoulder as we walked. “That way, you’d get to look at him all day long without having to actually hear him.”

I sighed deeply, lamenting my situation. “I’ve tried earbuds, but even they can’t drown out his incessant bitching completely. And since I’m not willing to poke my eardrums out, I’m screwed. It is what it is.”

Harlow tossed her arm over my shoulders, crooning sarcastically, “Aww, poor baby. Your life must be so hard.”

I playfully elbowed her in the ribs as we continued to wander. As the morning wore on, I was able to push all thoughts of my temperamental boss to the back of my mind and enjoy my day off, indulging myself as I thought of different designs for my jewelry while Harlow drooled over discounted designer handbags.

By the time we made it home, I was pleasantly calm and ready to throw myself into my creations. Jewelry making was my therapy, and I was all too happy to lose myself in my favorite hobby. I’d spent hours holed up in my room designing an intricate necklace and taking pictures to upload onto my website, Navie’s Knickknacks. Cassidy had created the name years ago when she used to take my jewelry to the local farmer’s market where she worked back in Texas. With her help, I’d been able to branch out from local markets and sell my own stuff online. Honestly, I’d have loved nothing more than to make jewelry for a living, but seeing as I had bills to pay, my dream wasn’t all that feasible. In college, I hadn’t had the time to fully immerse myself into creating, and as the years passed, it was harder and harder to find the time. But I still held the same love for it that I did as a teenager.