Page 90 of Missed Steps

Mark easily stands, and I take his hand.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Kyle,” he resists when he sees where I’m leading him.

“I’ll talk to him by myself if you don’t come,” I tell him. But given the runaround Damien has gotten, I think making Mark sit and talk to him for a few minutes will be a more appreciated thank you than anything else I could offer.

Mark grumbles but doesn’t pull away. Damien notices us coming and I see him usher away the people who had been sitting next to him, freeing up the chairs.

“How was dinner?” Damien asks, perfectly friendly as I sit in the middle seat, and Mark drops into the other one with an exaggerated groan.

“Bland,” Mark says in the tone of someone dying of boredom. His gaze moves lazily around the room, lingering on everythingbut Damien.

“It was delicious,” I tell Damien. “And Mark ate everything, too. Had extra bread and water,” I add.

Mark’s eyes snap toward me, his bored gaze replaced with a glower.

Damien’s eyes brighten, and his body shifts from Mark to me. “What does he usually eat at college? I’ve sent meals to the apartment before, but he never accepts the deliveries…perhaps I could send something to you? What do you like?”

“I will block your number.” Mark’s gaze shifts back to Damien, dark eyes fixing on his brother.

Damien sighs. “You never answer when I call anyway.”

“Because you call and ask what I ate for breakfast, what exercise did I do, is anyone hassling me,” Mark lists off, finishing with a scowl.

“So,” I speak into the silence. “You get all annoyed because he asks you about your day?”

Mark groans. “You don’t get it.” And he gives mean unimpressed look.

Damien’s expression brightens again. “What are your plans after college, Kyle? You’re doing an accounting course, correct? I know several firms where you could intern, my own included if you like, and I could set you up with some very experienced mentors.”

I wait a beat, but Mark doesn’t scold Damien. “No complaints this time?” I ask him wryly.

“So long as he pays you well. You should offer a house as a sign-on bonus,” Mark tells his brother, his eyes glinting.

“I can arrange that,” Damien agrees immediately.

I want to tell Mark to stop being mean to his brother. The urge makes me squirm in my seat. “I appreciate the offer, Damien, but I already have a job lined up. And I want to thank you for arranging that restraining order for me. It means a lot, and I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Damien says with a wave of his hand. “Think nothing of it. I’m glad I was able to help.”

As he finishes his sentence, a waiter stops at the table, bending to speak in Damien’s ear. Mark’s heel drums on the ground and he tugs at my hand. I squeeze his fingers and stay sitting.

“Speaking of your brother,” Damien says, “The nice one—I mean, not that nasty fellow. Christopher has arrived.”

I look at him in surprise. “Chris?”

“I got a hold of him yesterday and arranged a car to pick him up from the airport. I thought you might like to see him sooner rather than later,” Damien says. “I have a room prepared for him in the same wing as yours, so he’s close by for you.”

“I’m going to,” I hesitate a moment, then stand, “I’ll go meet him, show him to his room. He’s by the entrance we came in?”

Damien nods.

Mark goes to stand and I lean on his shoulder, pushing him back down. I kiss his cheek. “Thank your brother for me. Stay here and talk to him,” I whisper.

“It’s all manipulation tactics.”

“Please.”