Page 15 of Emmett
He throws a condescending smirk my way before disappearing down the hall, probably headed for either Dad’s office or a conference room. I’m not sure – there’s no mention of his visit on my calendar anywhere.
I’m part owner in the company now, shouldn’t I be involved in this?
“What’s he doing here?” I ask, jerking my head toward the door.
“Ugh,” Rowan sighs, her eyes rolling over in her head. “He wants to buy in on ownership of the nightclub. He’s been here every day for the past week trying to make a deal.”
“He must be intimidated then, huh?” I muse. “To want to get his feet in on something that hasn’t even opened?”
“I dunno,” she says, waving her hands in front of her. “I leave all that to you guys. I don’t do alpha males.”
I chuckle as I reach for the steaming cup of coffee in front of me and I bring it to my lips for a drink. Even in the heat of summer, it’s refreshing. Relaxing, even. I take another sip as my friend’s arms find their way around my shoulders and she squeezes me tightly, just for a brief moment.
“I gotta get in there, but we’ll have lunch, right?”
“Sure,” I tell her. “Sounds good.”
Truthfully, I don’t know if I’m still going to be here come lunch time, but for her and for Dad, I can make the effort to try and stick it out.
I spend the next half hour responding to emails, occasionally glancing at my door for any sign of this mystery meeting coming to an end, but I eventually give up and just dive into work. I’ll ask someone about it later. I’ve gotten through a decent chunk of the emails that have built up in my inbox, most of them fine with a cookie cutter response, and I’d really like to at least get through all of them before I call it quits for the day. If I can get through that, I can call today a win and justify leaving before the end of business.
I grab another cup of coffee and a protein bar from the vending machine in the lounge before slinking back into myoffice, where I pull up my personal email. I don’t know why I want to know if she’s sent me anything. I don’t know why I care so much. I’ve spent twenty-five years without her and I’ve been fine.
So it makes no sense to me that those voices only get louder when there’s no message from her.
“Hiding out in here? Or were you just not invited to play with the big boys?”
I glance up to see Nash standing in my doorway, leaning against the door frame with his forearm. That same smug look from earlier is slapped onto his face, and for a second, I think about climbing over my desk and leveling him.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” he continues. “Back here, you can’t hurt your daddy’s precious company by agreeing to terms that you weren’t even paying attention to. Being easily distracted is a pretty major character flaw, you know.”
“Are you a dick to everyone?” I ask him. “Or am I just special?”
His hazel eyes narrow at me as he saunters toward my desk and plucks the protein bar from it, tearing the wrapper open.
“You’re not special, pretty boy,” he says, and then he laughs as if he’s having some sort of sudden realization. “That’s all you’ve got, isn’t it? You’re just…pretty. No fire, no substance. Nothing of import to make you stand out from the rest of the world. A pity, really.”
Shoving the bar into his mouth, he turns and leaves my office without another word.
•
It’s harder to keep to myself in the cafeteria.
Severalof my friends shout their hellos to me, so I throw them a quick smile and a wave in response as I walk through the room until my eyes land on Rowan, and I hurry to join her at our usual quiet table off to the side.
I’m grateful that she doesn’t push for much conversation while we eat our meals, even though the concerned pursing of her lips and the frequent glances between me and her lunch tell me that she really, really wants to. I know she wants all of the gory details, because she wants to be able to fix me. That’s probably part of why she and my dad fit together so well; they’re bothfixers. See a problem, make a solution, the problem goes away.
But she’s my best friend, and if I tell her about all of my broken pieces, she’ll just cut herself open trying to pick them back up again, andmywounds will leaveherbloody.
“Hey, loners!” Mariah shouts to us as she struts over to our table. She pulls back one of the chairs before dropping into it and scooting herself closer to the table to reach over and grab one of my french fries. “A few of us are going out tomorrow night, you coming?”
A quick glance passes between Rowan and I, and I consider passing on the invitation – I really do.
“Sure,” I shrug.
Rowan shoots me a sideways look, but instead of scolding me, she pinches her lips together in a tight smile and simply says, “I guess I’ll be the DD, then.”
“Cool! I’ll text you the deets. Look hot!” She instructs us both as she stands, blowing a kiss in our direction. “Love you!”