Liam's POV
The New York skyline blurred beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of my hotel suite. I rubbed my tired eyes, trying to focus on the contract before me. The words swam on the page.
"You need to lighten up, Sterling," Damian said, loosening his tie. "We closed the Peterson deal. That calls for a celebration."
I grunted. "We still have the Harrington meeting tomorrow."
Owen looked up from his laptop. "One drink won't kill you. You've been insufferable this whole trip."
They were right. I'd been in a foul mood since leaving Haven Harbor—since leaving Hazel. The memory of her face when I announced my trip haunted me.
"Fine," I conceded. "One drink."
The upscale bar on the hotel's top floor buzzed with the energy of New York's elite. I ordered whiskey neat, hoping it would quiet the thoughts of Hazel that plagued me day and night.
"Well, well. Look who's in town."
That voice. I froze mid-sip, recognizing it instantly.
