Page 74 of Hard to Hold

I study him, identifying how fragile his recovery could be. Would he be able to stand up to the scrutiny I’m under right now with the press and the media and the bullshit of this story?

Or would he fall back under the veil of depression and despair he pulled me away from all those years ago? Because I know what it’s like to hit rock-bottom. I know how destitute you feel when your life falls apart and you wonder why you get up each morning. I know.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

LENNOX

“DAD SAYS YOU’RE GOING AFTER Rush McKenzie.”

I stare at the face of my sister, Brexton, on the computer screen and don’t try to hide the surprise, although since when does anything ever stay a secret for long in our family?

“Well, I’m glad Dad’s telling everyone about something that may or may not happen.”

“If you’d bother filling out and replying to our internal status memos, you could tell us yourself,” she says.

“I see them but I don’t really think I need to respond, seeing as you already know who I’m recruiting. If you have any questions, ask Dad. I’m sure he’ll let you know.”

“Tell us yourself. When did you last attend our weekly meeting?”

“I’m in California,” I say drolly.

“No shit.” She laughs. “That’s why I FaceTimed you so you could see that we’re in the digital age and these big square things we work on all day long actually allow us to talk to each other like we’re in person.” She rolls her eyes. “Next excuse, please.”

“It’s not an excuse, I’m just busy.”

“As we all are.” She lifts her brows as if to ask me what else I’m going to say, but I know she’s the queen of back-and-forth, so it’s better if I just let it be.

“So which one of you groaned or snorted when Dad announced I was going after Rush?” I ask.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I know you guys, and I bet there was a discussion, a few snide comments, and a few hands raised to volunteer to try to recruit him yourselves.” I sit back in my chair at the kitchen table.

“Can you blame us?”

There’s honesty in her voice I want to ignore but can’t. How can I when I’m struggling with my own identity right now? I have preached for weeks that I won’t sleep with Rush, and then I all but ask for it in the sauna the other night.

And want him even more now.

How do I vow to my sisters that I’m not going to screw this up when I can’t even keep my own word to myself?

Talk about having an identity crisis. Who would have ever thought that having sex with Rush would be considered a downfall?

“Look, I’ve let you guys down in the past. I know I have. I’m trying to make this right by doing my part to gain a big-name client to the firm.”

“We don’t see what you see, Lenn. We don’t feel that way about you at all. Is this about Chicago?” she asks.

“This is about a lot of things,” I say without elaborating.

“Because Chicago is you making a mountain out of a molehill when you don’t even know the half of it.”

She stares at me through the connection, and even though she’s only two years older than me, I bristle at her I’m older, I can say what I want attitude.

Because Chicago is a big deal. It frustrates me that none of them can see things my way. They’re not on the same receiving end of altered assignments. I do try to hear what my dad said. That it’s not about talent but desire for the job. But old habits are hard to break . . . clearly. When did I lose my self-confidence? When did I feel so judged by my own family?

And yet here I am in Los Angeles, doing exactly what I’m not supposed to be doing—mixing business with pleasure.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” I mutter.