I make my way through the main dining room, dodging conversations about hedge funds and wellness retreats, until I reach the frosted glass doors of the private dining suite.
That’s when I realize I’ve been played.
The doors swing open to reveal Connor, Callum, Alex, and Grayson—already seated and smug, looking like the board of directors of Emotional Sabotage, Inc.
The table is set for five.A mimosa waits in front of an empty chair.
There is a whiteboard.
And written in bold, black marker across the top?
REASONS LUKE IS BEING AN IDIOT
Grayson looks up and grins.“He’s here.Operation Stop Being an Idiot is go.”
I freeze in the doorway.
“This isn’t about a wedding venue, is it?”
“Nope,” Connor says, blue eyes alert.
“It’s about your emotional constipation,” Grayson adds.
“And your tragic hair,” Alex notes, sipping something with citrus foam.“Seriously, Daniella showed us pictures.It’s not good.”
Callum gestures to the seat.“Sit down, Luke.This is going to be fun.”
It’s not.
I sit anyway.“So, we’re not discussing wedding venues, anymore.”
“Oh, we are,” Callum says."The venue is your heart, and we're here to discuss why it's currently vacant."
"That's the worst metaphor I've ever heard."
"I workshopped it all morning," Grayson admits."We also considered 'your heart is a prison and Sage has the key' but that felt too aggressive."
"This is an intervention," I state flatly.
"This is brunch," Alex insists."With a side of intervention.The eggs Benedict here is excellent."
"I'm leaving."
"No, you're not."Connor's using his CEO voice."Sit down, Luke.We need to talk about your spectacular display of self-sabotage."
"My what?"
"Your determination to snatch misery from the jaws of happiness," Grayson slides in.
"Your commitment to dying alone," Alex adds.
"Your transformation into a hermit who lives at the office and apparently doesn't own a hairbrush anymore," Callum finishes.
I touch my hair."It's not that bad."
"It's approaching mad scientist territory," Connor says."Daniella sent photos."
"She's a traitor."
