Page 88 of Broken Brothers

11:29.

Well, however this is supposed to go, it’ll go.

Maybe if he was going to say no, he would have messaged me by now. If he was going to make a decision to say no, he would have informed me first so that word wouldn’t trickle to us through third parties.

But then again, maybe 11:30 is when—

11:30.

For what felt like the world’s longest minute—not even Einstein could say time traveled this slowly—I sat watching my phone, waiting for a 415 number to call me or for Andrew’s name to pop up. I almost had to laugh at myself for how ridiculous this was, except for the fact that the future of MCH depended significantly on it.

Then the clock turned to 11:31.

He forgot. Goddamnit, he—

My phone rang. Andrew Patel was calling me.

Feeling like I’d never felt around women—not even twelve-year-old Chance felt this nervous around Sarah Hill, my first crush of any consequence—I put my finger on the answer button, pressed it, and held it to my hand.

“Hey, Andrew, how are you?”

It all sounded so obvious I was nervous I don’t even know why I tried to hide it. I might as well have let my voice crack and sound like an acne-riddled, awkward teenager.

“Good, good, thank you, and yourself, Chance?”

He also sounded equally nervous. I tried my best not to read into it too much, which of course meant I read into it from every conceivable angle.

“I am good, thank you,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve had a long night.”

Andrew gave a laugh that I thought was polite.

“Actually, it was a pretty easy night, we didn’t have a hard decision to make.”

It was slowly beginning to dawn on me what Andrew meant. He was far too nice of a person to turn this into a troll.

“After we talked to you, I realized that your offer was not only the most generous to us, your willingness to put it into writing that you would mentor us was something no one else ever offered us,” he said.

I began smiling so wide I thought I might strain my jaw.

“Our biggest obstacle right now is having people who can go out there and pitch our product. I know we have an incredibly valuable product. But I also know that if we don’t have people putting it out there, we won’t do well. You and Morgan are two very extroverted, confident people. Charming, handsome, you know, all that good stuff.”

Andrew laughed a bit nervously. I did too, but that was just because I had so much excitement built up I had to let it escape somehow.

“So, with that all said, Chance, we would love to have you and Morgan be our investors.”

“YEAH!”

I shouted and clapped my hands, no matter how unbecoming of an investor it might seem. The hell was I supposed to do, be the model of stoicism? There was no chance.

We’d done it! We’d gotten the missing piece we needed to keep MCH afloat! Not only that, but now Morgan was in a position to quit his job at Hunt Industries. Oh, undoubtedly, the fallout was going to be brutal and the next couple of weeks were going to suck with Edwin Hunt. Who even knew if holiday reunions would ever be the same.

But you know what? In that very moment, I did not give a shit. I had won, baby. And in comparison to the disaster that was the end of the Taylor’s family business, I desperately needed this.

“Are you still there, Chance?”

“Sorry, sorry,” I said, laughing. “I’m just thrilled you joined us. I think Morgan and I are going to make you a very happy and, frankly, a very rich person when all is said and done.”

“That’s the plan,” Andrew said laughing. “Do you want to tell Morgan or should I?”