"Oh, come on," Matt continued. "You couldn't havemissedit."
I shook my head, avoidinghisgaze.
"We do have an agenda," Patrick said. "This discussion is notonit."
Shannon dropped her hand on Patrick's forearm. "Intern threesomes and porn isn't on our agenda, no," she said. "Butthat"—she gestured to something on his laptopscreen—"is."
"Yes, but it's the seventh item on my list," he argued. "We can visit it after hitting onethroughsix."
Shannon held up her hands and shook her head. "It's your meeting,Optimus."
"You make it sound like he needs the reminder," Sammuttered.
"First item on the agenda," Patrick started, "is current properties. Matt, let's talk about Mount Vernon and why the fuck it's exceeding costprojections."
Patrick loved his lists. Order, structure, precision. His desk looked like a whirling dervish lived there, but he held tight to his systems everywhere else. I didn't know whether it was a first-born thing or a CEO thing, but it was certainly a Patrickthing.
"I told you those projections were weak," Shannon said around a taco. "There's no way to marry twin brownstones and restore twenty thousand square feet without spending some money. If we do this right, we're going to make a fuck-ton more than we'llspend."
Patrick shifted in his seat to stare at her and his eyes cut to her screen pointedly. It was his not-so-subtle way of telling her to keep her dissent contained to their private chat. That they messaged throughout the meeting was the worst-kept secret at this table, especially now that we were packed in like the Red Line at rush hour. The only one who'd failed to notice was Sam, and I could forgive him that because he always sat directly oppositeShannon.
Under her breath, Shannon murmured, "You can suckmydick."
"Matt," Patrick said, still staring at Shannon, "talk to me about MountVernon."
I flipped open my notebook to the page with my most recent project notes. Bergman had been good for a few things, some of which being her oatmeal raisin cookies and notebook magic. She had this nifty trick where she marked the current page with a paper clip, and never had to shuffle through to figure out where she'd left off. It wasamazing.
I was managing five properties right now, the most I'd ever had on the board at once. Berkeley, Commonwealth, Joy, Marlborough, Pinckney. It was a handful, and one I was sweating hard. I wanted to get this right, and I wanted to do it without anyone stepping in to lend a hand. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate their help—I'd really fucking needed it—but I also wanted to prove I could holdmyown.
I hadn't always known—or embraced—my place in the family business, but now…now I got it. I understood how my style and vision could exist alongside those of my brothers. I didn't have to spend my days struggling to fill their molds, not when I could makemyown.
But none of that knowledge erased the anxious tremors that took up residence in my chest when I knew I was due to present on my work. Even surrounded by my siblings, I had to plan everything I intended to say and listen to those words in my head twice before speaking. It was the only way to keep from stuttering or stumbling over mywords.
It was easier to speak when it didn't seem like anyone was listening to what I hadtosay.
"Riley," Patrick said, his focus trained on his screen as he typed the last of his notes on Matt's properties. "What the hell is going on with Marlborough Street? It was supposed to be down to punch list itemslastweek."
The only problem with planning my words was that Patrick's questions never followed the order I'd mentally constructed. "Uh, yeah, about that," I said. "During the last walk-through, the client requested we convert one of the garage basement closets to ahalfbath."
"Which was on your original design," he said. "Off themudroom."
"Correct," I replied. "But they didn't want the expense of rerouting theplumbing."
"And now they do?" heasked.
"Evidently,"Isaid.
"That shouldn't take long," he started. "Youshouldbe—"
"Down to punch list items later this week," I interrupted. "Yeah. That's why I'm staying in the city. To get itwrappedup."
That wasmostlytrue.
"Is it not possible for us to agree on anything?" Shannon asked. "Is it really that difficult? We close down for two weeks over the holidays and two weeks in the summer. That shit is no secret. Whatisa mystery is why we can't seem to enforcevacations."
"Look," Patrick started, gesturing toward me. "That kind of work doesn't require acloseeye."
"No," I conceded. "But while that's underway, I can work on the punch list. If I wrap it up early, I'll join you guys on the Cape." I nodded atShannon.
