She looks at her hands, then passes the jacket back to me. “I’m so sorry, Miss Etheridge.”
I open my mouth, but Dan beats me to it.
“That’s fine, Bridget,” he replies, eyes on me. “Miss Etheridge knew what she was doing. Can you send me the Preston Holdings files? I want that tender closed today.”
Bridget nods and bolts, faster than a thief at the sight of blue lights, leaving me alone with my brother—estrangedbrother.
For a moment, we stand in silence. Dan, with hands in pockets, nonchalant. Me, arms crossed, legs bouncing, fury ready to erupt.
“You’ve got yourself a lovely gold-digger assistant there,” I finally quip. “I thought you were exclusively into blonds. Another thing about you that’s changed, I guess.”
“Bean, please don’t start,” he huffs. And it hurts. It actually hurts to hear him call me by the nickname he gave me. Apparently, I looked like a kidney bean on Mum’s ultrasound.
“This is not fucking easy for me, okay.”
“Oh, really, which part?” I ask. “The turning billions into billions part, the ignoring your sister’s existence part, or our parents are still dead part.” I scream the last words so loud, my whole frame shakes, tears streaming down my cheeks, clutching my father’s khaki jacket tight to my chest.
“I’m sorry,” Dan murmurs, like he has nothing else to offer. Something dark I don’t recognize twists in his eyes.
“Not good enough.” I try very hard not to let his words settle in my brain and melt my anger away. “It’s like I lost the three of you that night. All you care about now is Etheridge Enterprises. I don’t exist in your world anymore.”
He looks like I’ve slapped him in the face. And I wish I could take my words back.
“You could never lose me, Bean.” He takes a step toward me. “I know the change has been drastic and uncomfortable. I don’t expect you to understand why I’m going against Dad’s wishes. But believe me, I have my reasons for taking over from Grandpa.”
“What reasons?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because it could put you in danger.”
“Does that mean you’re in danger?”
“No.”
“You’re lying to me.”
“I’m not!” he shouts, his voice splintering. For a beat, the echo pulses in the small room. Then he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know it’s not fair. But you’ll just have to trust me on this. I understand that’s a lot to ask after the last few weeks, but it’s still me, Bean. So, can you do me a solid?”
I glare at him for a long minute, while he waits patiently.
“Fine,” I mutter. “But if you leave me on read one more time, I’m going to start trolling you. And with all the secrets I could spill, you’ll get cancelled everywhere.”
“To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t already.” He laughs. His gaze sweeps the floor, arms open toward the carnage I created. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Kind of,” I mumble and hold up the jacket on one finger. “Why doyouhave all your old stuff and Dad’s, but my wardrobe is stripped clean?”
“I thought you took what you needed with you,” he blurts quickly, then purses his lips.
“You want to try that again, truth magician?” I giggle. Dan can’t lie. Seriously, he’d better never commit a crime, or it would be the easiest trial in history.
“It’s in storage.” He sighs. “I thought it's best until you are… ready for it.”
The silence that follows weighs a ton. He is referring to the episodes I had for three days in the ICU and then again at the funeral. I wouldn’t dare tell him it’s still going on, but I’d rather not lie to him, either.
“I guess.” I hug Dad’s jacket tighter. “But I’m taking this.”
