Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
I even sport a matching blazer, but underneath, I wear Donnelly’s black AC/DC tee. It’s tucked into my waistband. He warned me the shirt might be unlucky, but I only sense good fortune having a piece of him here with me. Plus, it smells like his musky and minty scent. That alone eases some nerves.
I’m not even sure if I’m more anxious about Fizzle or the meeting that Donnelly and I set up at Halway Comics, where we’ll be facing my dad on a business-level.
If all goes horribly wrong here, at least I have that. I can’t bomb two times in a row, right?
You won’t bomb at all.
I give myself one self-encouraging breath and nod.
Right.
We’re sitting in a line of chairs pressed to frosted glass walls of the boardroom. Well, Charlie slouches. Xander taps his foot nervously. Eliot is stoic, confident, poised.
And Ben—Ben is nowhere to be seen.
He officially dropped out of contention.
When Ben brought Orion back home that night, I stayed with him while Donnelly called security to sort through the police situation.
Luckily enough, Donnelly knew the cops who showed up to take statements. They were the same ones he’d been working with as an informant. So they came in subdued and weren’t looking to throw the gauntlet at Ben. It’s all hush-hush through our family’s lawyers now, but I heard mutterings that assault and vandalism charges weren’t being pressed.
And not because the Cobalts paid anyone off. Rumor is our family threatened a criminal charge against Tate for harassing Winona, but without much evidence, I doubt it would’ve stuck. Still, the fear was enough for his parents to wave a white flag and even put their house up for sale.
After Ben had talked with the police on the front stoop of my parents’ house, I got Uncle Connor on the phone. He was already on a private plane back to Philly with Aunt Rose.
We hung up, and Ben wavered, looking down the road. The Cobalt Estate would be dark, empty rooms and echoing marble floors.
“You can spend the night,” I offered. Xander and Easton were already asleep, but the house felt more alive with our dogs and the knowledge that people were present. “Moffy won’t mind if you crash in his bed. I can change the sheets.”
“That’s okay.” He sunk down on the couch and stared at the black screen of his phone.
I sat beside him. “What about the couch?”
Just as I asked, his phone lit up with a FaceTime call.
From Beckett.
He almost hit the red button, but then he accepted it. Beckett was walking a mile a minute in an airport. I imagined he had a phone in one hand, luggage in the other.
“I’m fine,” Ben said, his voice taut and constricted. “Luna’s with me.” He flashed the phone to me, and I gave a Vulcan salute. Then back on himself, he said, “I’m spending the night here on the couch.” He paused. “I had to deal with something. It couldn’t wait.”
“Neither can this,” Beckett said. “Move to New York. Live here, please.”
“Charlie—”
“For me, for yourself, move to New York,” Beckett pled, and then he angled the FaceTime. Charlie was at the airport with him. They were already in Philadelphia. Apparently, they had left Vegas not long after Ben did.
To find their brother.
Move to New York.
Ben didn’t give Beckett an answer that night, but before I entered the boardroom today, I heard the news from Eliot.
The youngest Cobalt brother dropped out of Penn, and he’s transferring to the same college Xander is attending in the fall. Ben’s going to New York.
“There’s always room for more,” Eliot tried to pitch me for the umpteenth time.
I’m at a crossroads in life. I know it. Whatever I decide in the next couple of weeks, it could change the course of my entire universe.
First things first, ace this presentation.
“Eliot,” our uncle calls upon my best friend to take center stage. He flashes me a coy, wicked grin, then the mischief washes away as he strides to the front and commands the boardroom with pure confidence. He is the true Loki, I realize.
It’s not Charlie. Eliot is the one pretending to be someone he’s not, all for shits and giggles.
No one sees through it. They’re smiling and jotting notes as he describes a new product called Levitator. It’s another energy drink like Lightning Bolt! He proposes a wild marketing plan with hot air balloons decked out in Levitator logos all around the country.
By the end, I’m pretty sold.
Awesome, okay.
They love him.
“Nailed it,” he whispers to me, back in his seat.
Xander is next, and he takes about five minutes to describe a commercial and rebrand for Fizzle’s Sprite knockoff. It’s a pre-existing drink that needs revived. None of them are writing notes. Most seem worried as Xander trips up on his words and stammers.
He glances nervously to me, and I flash two thumbs up.