Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
There’s one.
Jason: Are you doing okay?
I type out a quick response.
Me: I’m alive.
Jason: Good to hear.
Me: Is everything okay back there?
Jason: For the most part, yes. My assistant put in her letter of resignation, but I expected as much after hearing that she left with Dad. We’re going through her computer and things now to see if anything is amiss.
Me: If there’s anything I can do from here, let me know.
Jason: I think the less you have to do with anything, the better. Just for now. I need you to trust me.
I sigh. “You’re overreacting, big guy.”
Me: Don’t I always?
Jason: If only our siblings took direction as well as you.
Me: Never thought I’d hear you say that about me.
Jason: It’s odd, isn’t it?
Me: I’m going to call Mom. She always calls my work cell phone, and I left it in the office THANKS TO YOU.
Jason: You’re welcome for that. And Mom is still in meetings. I could kill Dad for putting her through this.
Me: Get in line, bud.
I pause, waiting to see if my heart will hurt. But it doesn’t.
I keep expecting it to happen—to have a breakdown out of sadness or an outburst of anger or a meltdown from mental exhaustion over everything that’s happened. I’m ready to give myself space to feel and honor whatever emotions arise. Except, none of them do. Not toward Dad, at least. Fuck him.
Down deep in the recesses of my soul, I knew something was off for a couple of years. I watched the man I knew growing up—the one I loved and idolized—change before my eyes. It was so subtle that it was hardly noticeable. But I noticed. I just didn’t do anything about it.
And, if I had, maybe some of this bullshit could’ve been prevented.
Jason: I’ll call you tomorrow. Let me know if you need anything.
Me: I will.
Jason: Thank you for cooperating today. It means a lot to me.
Me: I expect a huge Christmas present for this inconvenience. HUGE. MASSIVE. EXPENSIVE.
Jason: Brat.
Me: Ha. Love you.
Jason. Love you, too.
I set the phone on my stomach and close my eyes. But it buzzes again. This time, Tate’s name is on the screen.
Tate: So I’m sitting beside Jason right now and I was reading your texts over his shoulder. I just want to point out that this trip could be a gift if you play your cards right.
“Oh, Tate,” I say, laughing.
Me: I would tell you to mind your business, but you’d ignore me.
Tate: You know me well. Gotta go. The tech guy just came in and nothing he’s saying is registering with Jason. How can he fly planes and run an airline and be so technologically incompetent?
Me: Go be a hero.
Tate:
I wait to ensure he doesn’t send anything else. After a few moments, I lock my screen and settle into the cushions again.
My mind goes to work—budgets, contracts, and negotiations flood my brain, reminding me of the many tasks required of me. I envisage the unread emails, the piles of papers on my desk, and the voice messages waiting to be returned. And I don’t want to do any of it.
I lay my hands on my stomach to help ease the guilt eating through my insides.
All I ever wanted to do in life was to run Brewer Group. Everyone who has ever known me knows this singular fact. I followed my father to work while the other girls took dance classes. I asked for a briefcase when my friends at school wished for dolls. While they followed movie stars and celebrity marriages, I watched the stock market.
It was who I was.
It’s who I am.
But I’m not so sure it’s who I want to be.
And I’m also not quite so sure what to do about that.
Oof. I stand and stretch, trying to jostle the anxiety out of my bones. Then I pick up my phone and dial the number of the one person I know can help and distract me.
My assistant answers immediately. “Hey, Bianca.”
“Hi. What’s going on with you?”
“Let’s just say that Renn is getting much better at asking me for help with things,” she says, laughing. “I took his reluctance to request help for granted for so long.”
I laugh, too. “Well, I have a few things that I need help with, and I need you to prioritize my stuff over my brother’s. Okay?”
“Don’t I always?”
You do. And that’s why I adore you. “You know that I flew to Florida with Jason this morning …”
“Right …”
I pace the room. “And it turns out that I’m not coming home for a few days.”
You could hear a pin drop on the other side of the phone.
“Astrid?”
She clears her throat. “And you made hotel reservations for yourself on the beach somewhere with a cabana boy?”
I grin. “Only if the cabana boy is named Foxx Carmichael.”