Tara was a bit disappointed. She’d hoped Grant would enjoy this outing and he clearly was not having fun. She’d wanted this to be a time for them to bond. “There’s free beer though. Hard to complain about that.”
“I’m not complaining. I just find it funny that this group of people thinks we’re at a baseball game. This is for someone who doesn’t care about the sport, which is fine. But call it what it is.”
“A schmoozefest?”
He straightened and pointed his beer bottle at her, a slight smile breaking across his face. “Exactly.”
Tara again surveyed the crowd of beautiful people, talking away about their jobs and their successes. No one mentioned their failures at an event like this, or even their struggles. It was all to put on a good face. Tara could see why Grant found it annoyingly empty.
“I recognize the value in seeing and being seen,” Grant continued. “But it always feels so phony to me. Johnathon was better at this than I am. I don’t enjoy playing the game. I’d much prefer to simply do the work.”
“Is that why you don’t want to pursue Seaport?” she asked. “Too many politics to play?”
“In part, yes. And the person who played the politics before us left behind a steep uphill climb.”
Grant had given Tara even more to think about, but then she got distracted by a glimpse of a man over at the bar. She didn’t want to stare, but she couldn’t help it. Needing confirmation, she grabbed Grant’s arm and popped up onto her tiptoes, whispering into his ear. “Am I crazy or is that Johnathon’s brother Andrew over there?” Not wanting to be too obvious, she grasped his other hand so she was facing him. “Right over my shoulder. Ordering a drink.”
Grant scoped out the scene, then dropped his sights to Tara. His eyes were intense. Nearly blazing. “What in the hell is he doing in San Diego? He couldn’t come to his own brother’s funeral two weeks ago, but he could come down here for a party or a baseball game?” Grant rarely had a reaction that heated. Tara couldn’t ignore how much more attracted she was to him when he was being this way.
“This is not a baseball game. You were very clear about that.”
Grant finished his beer and clunked the bottle down on a nearby table. “This is weird, Tara. And I don’t like it.”
“Yeah. Me neither.” Tara rolled her head to one side and glanced back at Andrew. He looked so much like Johnathon, it was uncanny. Same handsome features, same head of thick brown hair. Tara hadn’t laid eyes on Andrew since her own wedding, back when he and Johnathon were still on speaking terms. Soon after, Sterling Enterprises was launched. Johnathon offered Andrew a job, but that inexplicably created a deep rift between the brothers. Johnathon was only trying to help after Andrew’s first attempt at his own development firm had failed. The brothers stopped speaking to each other, and Andrew moved to Seattle because of it, starting a second company in a market where he wouldn’t have to compete against Johnathon. “Should we go talk to him?”
“And say what? Tell him he’s a jerk for not attending his own brother’s funeral? I want nothing to do with that guy. At all.” Grant turned his head, tracking Andrew across the room.
Tara looked back again. Andrew was winding his way through the crowd, away from them. “Is he leaving?”
“I hope so.”
Tara didn’t want to let this opportunity go. It wasn’t right that Andrew hadn’t been at Johnathon’s funeral. And she knew Grant felt that way, too. “Come on. We can’t let this go. We need to talk to him.” She grabbed Grant’s hand and led him across the room, weaving past the other guests, some of whom were trying to stop her to talk.
“Every time you lead me somewhere, something bad happens. Case in point, the other night out on your balcony.”
“Shush. This has to be done.” With one last tug on Grant’s hand, they emerged from the crowd and out into the elevator vestibule. Andrew was standing there, checking his phone. “Andrew,” she said, clearly.
He looked up, shock coloring his face. “Tara. Grant. This is a surprise.”
Before Tara had a chance to respond, Grant dropped her hand and confronted Andrew. “That’s bull and you know it. You had to have seen us inside. Is that why you’re leaving?”
Andrew fumbled with his phone and slid it into his back pocket. He seemed nothing short of nervous. Good. Let him be put on the spot. “I didn’t see you. And I was only here for a moment. I had a friend who was here, but this isn’t really my scene.”
“You didn’t come to the funeral.” Grant took a solid step forward, nearly encroaching on Andrew’s personal space. “You told me you would try to make it.”
Andrew jabbed the elevator button several times, as if that would make it appear faster. “I was busy. Something came up.”
“Okay,” Grant said, sounding nothing short of skeptical. “Why come to town now?”
“Business.”
“Anything I need to know about? This isn’t exactly your corner of the world.”
Andrew slid Grant an unkind look. “Just a partnership. I didn’t come to town to step on your toes if that’s what you think.”
“And yet you still couldn’t make the funeral.”
“Look, it’s not like Johnathon would’ve known I was there. Funerals are for the living and nobody at that funeral cares whether or not I show up.”
“I cared. I cared a lot. You weren’t there for your brother. It’s not right.” Grant’s voice was resolute. For someone who wanted nothing to do with Andrew, he was having no problem speaking his mind to him.
“It wasn’t nice, Andrew,” Tara said. “Johnathon was always there for you.”
Andrew shook his head. “Not always.” The elevator door slid open and he quickly stepped inside.
Grant
