“Oh, I’m sorry, Seth. I didn’t know you were in a meeting,” the older man said as he put up a hand to straighten his already straight tie.
“It’s okay, Stan. Come on in,” Seth said as he stood. “I’m not sure you two ever met but I’m sure my dad mentioned him to you. This is Ronan Grisham, Trace’s fiancé.”
Hearing Seth call me that was strange but I was saved from having to examine the unexpected feelings that came with his words because Stan was striding across the room, his tall, thin body suddenly relaxing. He reached out his hand and shook mine fervently. “We were all so terribly saddened to hear about Trace,” he said solemnly. “My condolences for your loss.”
“Thank you,” I responded. Since the members of Trace’s family were the only ones who’d known about my relationship with Trace,it felt odd for a virtual stranger to be extending what I knew was a common courtesy.
“I understand you’re a surgeon,” Stan suddenly said. “Where are you practicing?”
“Stan,” Seth interrupted before I could even try to consider how to answer. “Was there something you needed?”
I stopped listening as Stan and Seth began speaking about some sales figures for their meeting and went back to the small table and got my computer going. The shitty, off-balance feeling was back and for once, I was actually looking forward to going through the notes Daisy and Mav had sent me about potential marks. It was a sad commentary of what my life had become that I’d rather immerse myself in the business of death rather than face the difficulties of trying to accept who I’d been.
“Sorry about that,” Seth said as he returned to the chair next to me a few minutes later.
“It’s no problem,” I muttered. I knew I was being an ungrateful asshole considering what Seth had said to me before Stan’s untimely arrival, but I’d come too close to saying something to Seth that would have done more harm than good. He wanted to be friends. I needed to remember that.
But Seth must have sensed something was off because he began shifting nervously as he waited for me to say something else – probably to finish the conversation we’d been having. He finally stood, his jaw tight and began moving away from me but I grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Thank you,” I managed to say, though I didn’t look up from my computer.
Seth didn’t say anything and he didn’t linger. But as I opened my hand to release his wrist, I felt his fingers stroke over my palm briefly just before he walked away.
Chapter 16
Seth
I endedup letting Ronan drive to my old house on Mercer Island since I was still on edge from the rough morning I’d had. Somehow the information that I was meeting with our biggest competitor in New York to discuss a possible buyout had gotten out, and I’d spent the morning fielding phone calls from worried employees and one very angry union president. To make matters worse, Stan had gone home sick so I’d been on my own. I’d debated whether I should even take the time to make my daily run to the house that played a starring role in my darkest of nightmares, but I’d decided the sooner I could come to terms with the events that had unfolded there, the sooner I could be rid of one of the last links to one of the worst days of my life.
“You did really great this morning,” Ronan said and I glanced over at him. His eyes kept shifting to me as he drove. Ronan had been in my office when the news had broken but after the first couple of phone calls, I’d actually forgotten about him.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “I’m not sure they believed me,” I said.
“Your employees?”
I nodded. “So many of them worked for my dad…I could hear it in their voices, you know?”
“Hear what?”
“The disappointment…like I was letting them down.” I turned to look out the window. “Like I was lettinghimdown.”
I felt Ronan’s hand close over mine where it was laying on the middle arm rest. “He’d be proud, Seth. The way you handled yourself…they’d all be proud.”
I felt tears stinging the backs of my eyes but I managed to keep them at bay. I’d always hoped that wherever my parents and Trace were, they’d approve of the life I was leading and the choices I’d made. But somehow hearing the confirmation from Ronan was more comforting than just hoping for it on my own.
I’d had an idyllic childhood and I’d been smart enough to know it. While my parents had been more than just “well off,” they hadn’t let our family’s upper class status and wealth go to Trace’s and my heads. We’d had chores just like any other kids our age and when Trace wanted his own car when he turned sixteen, he’d had to pay for it and the insurance himself. And that was after he’d had to produce a stellar report card. I hadn’t been old enough to worry about a car, but I’d spent nearly all the money I’d saved from chores and doing odd jobs for the neighbors on books.
Trace and I had been polar opposites from the get go but somehow that and our ten-year age difference didn’t affect the bond we’d shared. Trace was the classic high-energy extrovert who excelled at athletics and earned every popularity title known to man. I’d only been eight when he’d come out to our parents at the age of eighteen, so I hadn’t understood the struggle he’d been going through from the time he’d turned fourteen and figured out he was gay. And while he hadn’t been around much as I’d struggled with my own sexuality, I had no doubt that the risk he’d taken in telling our parents had paved the way for me, because my mother had actually hugged me when I mustered enough courage to tell my parents the truth one night over dinner when I was twelve. My father had given me a hearty slap on the back, said it was about time and asked me to pass the peas.
My brother had also been my protector from the time my parents brought me home from the hospital and told him he neededto look out for his little brother. Trace had taken their words to heart and had spent the next six months sleeping on the floor next to my crib so that he would be there if I needed him. And while we’d had our tussles as we’d grown older, I’d known Trace would always be there for me. But there was one love I couldn’t compete with and it wasn’t Ronan. Trace’s love for the military held no equal and I’d finally understood that when I’d gone with my parents to Trace’s graduation from basic training. I’d never seen my brother more alive and in his element and I’d been strangely envious because I’d feared I’d never be a part of something like that.
Like Trace, I’d excelled in school but unlike him, I’d struggled to find my place in the various social circles that ran rampant in the private school I’d attended. I’d ended up escaping into my books more often than not and could count on one hand how many friends I had managed to scrape together. But where Trace was always on the go, I’d relished staying home and spending time with both my parents. My mother had been a music teacher so I’d spent many hours learning various instruments, though it never became a true passion for me like it had been for her. My father had often worked long hours but weekends were our thing and he’d often taken me boating on all the different lakes the region had to offer. As I’d gotten older, I’d started asking him questions about his work and that had turned into dreams of one day standing side by side with him running the company. I’d even spent the summer before they’d died working at my father’s office. I hadn’t done much more than get coffee and perform basic administrative tasks like sorting the mail and filing, but it had given me a chance to see my father in action. I’d idolized him in every sense of the word.
And now I was him…or I was trying to be anyway. But as much as I’d hoped to feel that thing that Trace had felt when he’d joined the military, it hadn’t happened yet. My teachers and Stan said I had a head for business but I still felt like I was playing a role…like I was trying to fill shoes that maybe weren’t meant to be filled.
I glanced at Ronan whose hand was still covering mine. “How did you know you wanted to be a doctor?”
Ronan’s grip on me tightened before he released me and Iinstantly regretted the question. As much as I wanted us to be friends, I needed to remember that we weren’t those kinds of friends. We were friends with boundaries…a lot of boundaries, if the tight look on Ronan’s face was anything to go by.
“Sorry,” I mumbled before turning my attention back out the window.
