“Fuck you. I don’t know how you lucked out of it; the last time Felicity and I went on holiday, I got burnt in a downpour.”
I laugh, imagining him soaked down to his knobby knees, red as a slapped arse.
“A lot of people are lucky you made this choice, then.” It’s a concession I wouldn’t have made a few months ago. But now that I’ve seen some of his work firsthand, the picture I had of him as lord and tyrant of Deacon’s soulless empire is shifting into something surprisingly meaningful. Maybe it’s time to reframe who I thought he was. “You’re good at this. Much better than he was.”
He nods his thanks, and we silently agree to let the moment pass. It isn’t until I’ve reached the end of my cuppa that he asks, “How was the theater?”
Jesus. I put the empty mug on his desk. “How did you even know about that?”
He raises his brows as if to ask if I’m serious, and yes, I am. It’s hard to believe now, but there was a time not that long ago where I actually had a private life.
“It’s impossible to have a secret in this family,” he says with a shrug, and boy, do I wish that was true.
“You’d be surprised.”
He sets his mug aside, and I would put money that his foot is jumping under the desk. It’s his go-to when he’s tense. “So, you and Ivy really are serious, then?”
His tone is even, but I haven’t forgotten how quickly he questioned her motives. It sets my shoulders back. “What about it?”
He holds his hands up, understanding he’s crossed a line. “Didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just asking. You look happy.”
It’s easy to be, with her. “I am.”
“That’s good. I’m glad,” he says, even going so far as to look genuine about it, and honestly? I want to believe him.
He was meant to be my wingman, my best man. A friend, at least. Not the stranger we’ve become to each other.
Grabbing a couple tissues from a box on his desk, Reed bends over to collect what’s left of the cardboard I saved him from ingesting.
“Do you remember summer in London?” I ask.
Reed sits up, tossing the remains into a bin by his feet. His hair is flopping forward and his tie is askew. “What, those two days in June each year? Yeah, I remember it.”
I snort a laugh. “A bit of sun hits, and it’s like anything is possible. No problem is too great, and you want to soak up as much as you can.”
He looks over, expectant. Pushes his hair back into place.
“She makes me feel like that,” I say, the truth of it undeniable. There are so few between me and him, obscured beneath our pride. But Ivy deserves nothing less.
Reed’s gaze jumps to a silver frame on his desk, where I bloody well hope Felicity’s photo is. “I know exactly what you mean.” It’s a small bridge, but one I’ll cling to.
I came here to talk to him, to call Kyle’s bluff and get ahead of this mess before it starts, but everything’s wrong. It’s Reed. It’s this office. I keep expecting him to strike me down with his “you’re a disappointment” head tilt. It’s like every trip to the principal’s office.
That he’s been, dare I say it, pleasant, is only reminding me of what I have to lose.
I say I don’t care about Reed’s opinion, but I do.
I’ve always cared. Otherwise I would have told him. I would have thrown it in his face as proof that I had disappointed him as deeply as he had me. It wasn’t until Kyle made Reed knowing a reality that I understood how, underneath it all, I still want my brother’s approval. Still want to make him proud.
Up until now, he’s thought me lazy. But what will he make of this? Will I be irredeemable to him after this? The final bridge to burn?
“Hey,” I say, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “Fancy a cheeky pint?”
He doesn’t reply at first, but he does look at the door. Could he be considering it? “The last time I said yes to that, I ended up serenading a lamppost at two in the morning.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it was a pretty good night, that.”
The smile fades away. “What’s this about, then?”
