My office door swings open, and I look up to find John walking in. He’s noticeably a little paler than when he left. He walks over to my desk and hands me a packet of wet wipes.
“Did you get a hold of Mitch’s assistant?” I ask, bending down to clean off my shoe.
“I did, um…” He swallows hard and clears his throat. “She said that the other Mr. Mitchells met this morning at nine.”
What the fuck.
Without thinking, I try to stand, hitting my head on the underside of the desk with a loud thunk.
“Fuck!” I yell.
“Are you okay, sir?”
“I’m fine,” I say, standing and tossing the dirty wipes into the trash. I smooth my shirt and try to ignore the spot on the back of my head that’s throbbing.
We head out of my office and toward the elevator.
“Where are we going?” John asks, following behind me.
I hesitate for a minute. I’m not really sure where I’m heading. The meeting was with both my father, Mitt, and my brother, Mitch. I try to calm myself, give both of them the benefit of the doubt. I don’t know that I was purposely left out of the meeting. I should talk to them. This time it could have really been a mistake, but deep down, I know this has my dad written all over it. And Mitch, being the obedient puppet that he is, probably went along with it.
“To see my father.”
After a short and silent elevator ride, we step off and are greeted by my dad’s assistant.
“I need to see my dad, er, I mean Mitt,” I say as I walk up to her desk, rubbing the back of my head.
“He’s not here,” she says.
“He’s not here?”
“No, he and your brother headed out thirty minutes ago.”
“Why?”
“I think they had golf with a client,” she says, nonchalantly. “Were you supposed to meet with him?”
“No, um, Mitt mentioned he was golfing today, but I forgot,” I lie. Trying to control my breathing, I inhale and exhale slowly. It’s been clear they haven’t wanted me around as much since we lost Granddad. This shouldn’t be a surprise, but it doesn’t change the fact that it feels fucking terrible.
“Do you want me to take a message and tell him you stopped by?”
“No, I’ll text him. Thank you.”
Turning around, I call the elevator, and when the doors open, John and I board in silence. He follows me back into my office.
“I’m really sorry, Tanner. This is my fault. When I got here this morning, I had to use the bathroom, and they must’ve called while I was in there. I’m?—”
I put my hand up to stop him. “This isn’t your fault John. They didn’t call.”
“You don’t know that,” he tries.
“Yes, I do.”
CHAPTER 5: IT’S A GOOD THING I PAY ATTENTION
TANNER
The Local is already wall to wall people when Jacks, Lacey, and I walk in. We push through the crowd, and I spot Poppy and Logan sitting at a table with our friends, Donovan and Enzo. My heart drops a little when I don’t see Wren.
