“So, you saw him?” she asks after silence from my side.
“I did.”
“Are you together now?”
“No, of course not. I’m just…I don’t know what to do. I see him everywhere I go now. And the attraction between us, it’s nothing like when we were friends, yet that bond is still so strong.”
“Oh.”
“And I have all these feelings that were never there before.”
“I see.”
“He kissed me tonight. There’s something going on with him. He’ll open up to me eventually, and I want to be there for him like before… but…”
“But what?”
“He’s so going to hurt me again. I can feel it already. Like my heart is breaking now because it knows what’s coming.”
“Hmmm.”
I know my sister isn’t being authentic. She’s holding her tongue. But even in her act, letting out my fears, hearing them out loud, it’s helping me.
“You know what?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“What?”
“Take it a day at a time. For all you know, this is exactly what the two of you needed.”
“What?”
“You’re my sister and I love you. Go ahead. Get laid. Fall for him. Hear his hopes and dreams. Maybe this time, with sex in the equation, maybe this can work.”
“Wait, what? How can you go from he’s a sorry ass son of a bitch to wishing me luck with him?”
“Easy peasy, my darling. All I’m saying is try to live a little. If he breaks your heart, so what? Broken hearts heal…eventually. And I promise I won’t say I told you so if it doesn’t work out. I swear to God. I might fly back to kick his ass if that happens, but I won’t say I told you so. How’s that?”
I flop down onto the bed. Bethany is no help. Not one bit. I need to work this out on my own. Not even Knox can give me all the answers. In a way, Bethany is right. I’m going to take a chance and live for a change.
“Thanks, Beth. You’ve been a big help.”
She lets out a laugh. “Liar.”
“No, really. I’ll take it day by day. Bottom line is I’m glad he’s back. So, I may make a few more mistakes, but I’m sure to enjoy at least some of it. It’s better than what I had going on before.”
“True.”
“Tell me about Colorado,” I say, moving on to her life.
“Get your butt out here for a visit and you’ll see for yourself.”
“I will, one day.”
“Sure, all right then,” she groans. Mom has been out to see her once. Dad and I are yet to pay her a visit.
“I will. I promise. You’ll see.”
“Okay Isa. Thanks for calling. Love you.”
“Love you too, big sis. Thanks for listening.”
Once I hang up the phone, I pull the covers over me and close my eyes.
If I see Knox again, there’ll be more yes responses than no’s. The sky’s the limit.
10
Knox
For the last two weeks, all I’ve done is work the business. I spend time in every department and at all major meetings, shadowing Pops and every senior VP throughout the firm. It’s been intense. I’ve learned more than my entire business degree, although much of it comes more naturally than I thought. Probably from all those years Pop dragged my ass with him to work as a kid. There were countless times he had made me sit in his office sofa after school and sometimes on weekends. He had to keep a close eye on me back then, on account of all the trouble that followed me.
So far, he hasn’t been all over my ass about my personal life, so that’s something.
Except that today, he summoned me to his house—my parents’ home—for a check-in meeting. I have nothing to worry about if our conversation is limited to Steele Industries. But if he plans to give me more bad news about his health, or to delve into setting me up with some random female socialite he approves of, I can’t see either scenario going well for me.
At this point, I can’t bring myself to object too strongly or give him any hassle. The man is not well. The more I see him, the clearer it is. He just thinks he’s doing a damn good job of masking his failing health. Sure, most of his executives, colleagues and acquaintances are unaware of his situation, but he can’t fool me. No fucking way. I see the way he strains to sit upright in his corner office, and how he struggles with getting through the day when all along, he was a workaholic, spending ten to fifteen hours a day on the job.
I don’t want to face his mortality, but all this time around the office isn’t giving me much choice. And every evening when I walk through the door of my condo apartment, I’m gutted all over again.
He may not be here next year. Or this Christmas. He won’t see me turn thirty, or walk down the aisle, or gaze into the eyes of his great grandchildren, if there are any in the cards. I start to regret taking him for granted for every fucking milestone I hit before now. He was there for all of them. My first shave, high school graduation, going away to college, coming back with a degree.
And he’s been there for the fuckups too. That time I had to call him collect to bail me out of jail for breaking a guy’s nose at a bar, and the other times I got those drunk and disorderly charges after binging with Foster in my early twenties. The few lawsuits that came my way as a result of bad behavior, once the offending party realized my family’s net worth. He handled them all. He had our lawyers throw whatever money at those problems so that they’d go away. I can’t think of even once when he left me to handle my shit
