Page 42 of The Arrangement

“But what do I do about my actual role?” Tate asks, eyes wide. “What must a cool uncle do to fill that spot in the kid’s life? Do I have to hold it? Feed it? Or can I just buy it tons of presents and call it good?”

“I think you’re overthinking it,” I say.

“I’m not. I assure you, I mean every word of this.”

I laugh again at the look of absolute seriousness on his face. “Babies are magical. You’ll love Renn’s baby. Trust me.”

“Yeah. They magically make others want them. Don’t you experience that? If you hold a baby, don’t you want one?”

“It’s been a very long time since I held a baby, so I’m not sure,” I say, grateful for this distraction. “But, yeah, holding a baby would probably naturally make me think about having one of my own. But puppies do that, too. If you see a puppy, you suddenly want one. Right?”

“Maybe other people.” He looks at me like I don’t make sense and turns to his brother. “What about you? Do you think babies are magical?”

Jason watches me carefully. “Weren’t you talking about a wedding?”

“Oh. Right.” Tate bumps my arm, drawing my attention back to him. “So how do I get out of this wedding and still get to see her again?”

“I don’t know. Have plans?” I suggest. “Make something up. Say you have to go out of town on business. How can she argue that?”

He nods. “That’s good. That’s very, very good.”

“That was pretty obvious, Tate.”

“I just get all nervous about these things. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, you know? But I also don’t want to hurt my own, and if she thinks I think we’re more than friendly acquaintances, if you know what I mean, then that hurts me.”

I try my hardest not to laugh at him, but I fail. Miserably.

The joyful sound is in stark contrast to the depression settling over my soul. I want to grab on to it and hold it close—to allow it to keep me from descending into a pit of despair.

Mostly because I don’t have time to sit in my sads. I have to find a place to live.

Why does life have to be so expensive?

My heart hurts for Greta, and for Mrs. Donaldson on the third floor.What will they do? Where will they go?

How is this even legal? How can they make us vacate our homes in two freaking days?

“Do you know who else gets nervous about weddings?” Tate smirks.

“Who?” I ask.

“Jason.”

My gaze sweeps across the room to my boss. “Why do you get nervous about weddings?”

Jason rolls his eyes as he sits up, his patience with his youngest brother growing thin.

This is usually the time that I try to segue Tate into leaving to save Jason’s sanity. But because I know what our conversation will entail when Tate does walk out, I’d rather him stick around as long as possible today.

So I say nothing to prompt him to go. Instead, I dig my heels in to keep him here.

“I didn’t know you had a problem with weddings,” I say to Jason.

He glares at his brother.

“It’s a new thing with him,” Tate says, teasing Jason.

“Okay…” I look at Tate and then Jason. “I feel like I missed a conversation.”