I’m not sure she’ll accept any explanation, but I sure as hell have to try. If fate decided I should get lost outside the front door of the woman I’m meant to be with, who am I to walk away from that destiny without giving it a go?
Elliot shuffles over to the full pot of coffee I just made. “Want some?”
“Please. I’ll make breakfast while I wait for the car.”
“Trying to keep busy, huh?” Elliot sloshes coffee into a mug and slides it toward me.
I drum my fingers on the edge of the counter and smile at him. “Yeah. Rental company said they’d be here between eight and nine.”
We both look at the clock on the stove. 7:56. I’m sure it’s said seven fifty-something for about three hours.
Elliot takes a seat at the vast marble island, yawns again, and stares into his steaming mug.
I pick up mine and rest against the counter. “Any second thoughts about last night?”
He shakes his head. “None. I’m proud of us for what we did.”
“Good. Me too.”
“Yup, let it be the start of our No Assholes policy.” He raises his mug to cheer the new corporate strategy.
“Morning, folks.” Max strides in and ruffles my and Elliot’s hair, something he’s done to us since he was about ten.
He looks like he’s already showered. His slicked-back hair is damp, his chin pink from shaving, and his crisp white shirt makes him look ready to grab the day by the balls and twist them.
He pours himself a coffee. “What are you two up to? The morning-after debrief on how to lose the biggest investor of your life?”
Elliot and I shake our heads at each other. There’s no point explaining a No Asshole policy to Max, who’s recently taken on a rude, domineering, and unpleasant-in-all-ways chief financial officer partially because of his unrivaled brilliance with numbers, but mainly to stop a competitor getting him.
“You guys should be on your way to counting your first billion,” he says. “Not looking like you lost a buck and found a penny.”
“There’ll be other money. There won’t be another Summer.” The moment those words leave my lips I instantly regret letting them slip out in front of Max.
“Oh, excuse me while I find a bucket to barf in.” He makes a gagging noise and turns to his youngest brother. “Remember the pact, Elliot. Business now, life later.”
Elliot straightens his glasses and stares back. “And when do you thinkyoumight get to the life part?”
Max wanders over to the fridge, pulls open the door, and stares at the contents. “When I’m good and ready. But right now, all I’m ready to do is dial a number and have breakfast delivered to me. Three days out of New York is way too long.”
I join Max at the fridge, nudge him out of the way, and gather eggs, milk, and butter. “When was the last time you ordered something from anyone who wasn’t your personal chef?”
I grab the bowl and whisk I washed up earlier and search through cupboards for a pan and some plates.
The last time I familiarized myself with a new kitchen, it was Summer’s. When she realized I could bake something off the top of my head, her face was a picture. I shook her expectation of me. Surprising her made my heart sing a whole new song.Who knew something so small could feel so fucking good?
Then, last night, I didn’t surprise her at all. She saw what her gut always told her she would see. She saw a wealthy person pandering to someone who looked down on her. And I did it for the sake of money. I didn’t stand up for her. In that moment, I chose the deal. The business. The cash. But more important than what I chose was what Ididn’tchoose. Her.
A heavy weight drags my chest down to my belly as I break eggs into the bowl.
“Careful. You’re not so much cracking those things as shattering them to smithereens,” Elliot says. “Guess they won’t need much beating though.”
I slam another egg on the side of the bowl. “This is a perfectly reasonable cracking technique.”
Elliot sighs. “I’m sure the car rental people will be here soon.”
Max folds his arms, leans against the side of the fridge, and watches me. “And what the hell did the pepper grinder ever do to you? Looks like you’re trying to throttle the last breath out of it.”
I plant the grinder on the counter like I’m planting a flag at the North Pole. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
