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he’d been met with a brick wall. Knowing the very people who took her away from him would not help now, he was left with nothing, not knowing where Sophia was or how to find her again.
    The ache in his chest returned as he realized the night before had just been happenstance, and because of her reaction to him, he didn’t know what to do. He’d thought she remembered him. He’d thought he’d seen a glorious spark of recognition in her blue depths. With a heavy sigh, he realized that couldn’t be true. If she remembered what they’d shared, she wouldn’t have run away.
    In letting her go, he’d let his one and only chance of reclaiming his love slip through his fingers.
    A thud of papers on his desk startled him.
    “A batch of orders for you to approve from the show last night,” Bryant said in a way-too-cheery voice. “Everyone loved the line.”
    Xavier rose from the desk and gave his brother a condescending stare. Bryant was smiling a little too hard. It made Xavier want to rip out his brother’s teeth.
    “You know I don’t have to do that,” he ground out. “Isn’t that what I pay you for?”
    He made his way to the credenza in the corner of his makeshift London office, which was no more than an extra room in his suite. In a matter of seconds, he poured a shot of whiskey from the decanter, downed it, had another, and then slammed the glass on the marble top. It clanked and nearly shattered in his palm.
    Xavier ran an unsteady hand through his hair and blew out a hard breath. “I’m sorry, Bryant. I didn’t mean that.”
    Bryant actually laughed. “Yes, you did,” he replied. “You tend to be more honest when something’s got you all bent out of shape. I’m guessing the fire last night wasn’t as hot as you thought it would be?”
    Xavier cast Bryant a sidelong glance and took yet another shot.
    “Be careful with that,” Bryant said as he crossed over to him. Without missing a beat, he took the decanter from Xavier and dumped the remaining contents down the sink.
    “What the—”
    “You’ve got a charity auction to be at in less than an hour, and this”—Bryant shook the empty bottle—“isn’t going to help.”
    Xavier’s head fell back. “I needed that.”
    “No, you don’t. Focus on the line and the things that make it great. If the inspiration is out of your physical reach, remember the memories that made it in the first place. You’re stronger than this. I know you.”
    As angry and irritated as Xavier was, he couldn’t really argue with his brother. There would be no benefit in the end. Xavier was a lost cause when it came to finding his head after obsessing about Sophia, and Bryant knew how to help him deal—by getting him to focus on his fashion line.
    It was the only way he had survived.
    “Xavier?”
    Xavier looked at his brother. “Yeah?”
    “Did you hear me?”
    “Every word.” He hung his head. “Thank you.”
    Bryant spoke with more care. “Something happened with Sophia last night, didn’t it?”
    “She said she didn’t remember me.” Xavier’s chest constricted painfully. He loosened the necktie suffocating him. He needed to get some air. He needed to get a grip.
    Hell, he just needed Sophia.
    “Wait…what?”
    “I said,” Xavier spit out, “she doesn’t remember me.”
    Bryant at least showed the courtesy of covering his mouth as he laughed. After he recovered several seconds later, he spoke. “Guess that means she wasn’t the one after all?”
    “You know, you really are a pain in my ass.”
    Bryant flashed his white smile. “I know. But someone has to keep you on the straight-and-narrow. Just repaying the favor, bro.”
    “Pick another time to do it.”
    “Seriously, Xavier, stop this. How can a girl who said she didn’t remember you be the right girl? Based on all the calls I’ve had to field over my lifetime for you, I’d say you’re hardly a forgettable man.”
    Xavier frowned. Bryant had a point. A small one.
    “So then,”