“Okay. Okay, pull up the report, and I’ll show you what I’m seeing. Then you can explain what I’m missing so we can get to the bottom of this.”
We yell back and forth for nearly an hour, sifting through spreadsheet after spreadsheet until my eyes bleed. I explain what I do and how I do it while he pulls his hair out of his stupid man bun.
Finally, he jumps out of his seat, flying up with so much force that the chair topples backward. “Are you fucking with me right now? Since when do you run the numbers like that? That’s ass-backward!”
I throw my hands up and rise to my feet, too. “What the hell are you talking about? This is how I’ve always done it, since the beginning. How the hell do you run them?”
He groans and reaches over my shoulder, grabbing my computer mouse and fiddling around with the documents. Two minutes later and we’re both glaring at each other. “That’s stupid,” I mutter.
“Well, it’s how I do it, and that’s the right fucking way.” He continues to grumble, as he paces around my office. “I guess there’s no missing money then.”
I lean back, lifting my brow at him. I want to say I fucking told him so. But I realize that if I were in his shoes, I would have assumed the same thing. It’s hard to fault him, even if he is an asshole.
At that precise moment, Jessa crosses my mind. She believes in me. She believes in my innocence, in my goodness, even when everybody else accepted me as a hardened criminal long before the judge slammed down his gavel.
My brother’s shoulders drop six inches as he looks me dead in the eye. “I’m sorry, Eli. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. You going to punch me now? Or can you at least wait until Friday evening to give the black eye some time to heal before work on Monday?”
I close my laptop and shake my head, mentally and physically exhausted. “I’m not going to hit you, dammit,” I mumble before I start cleaning up my desk. “Look. It is what it is, and I can’t fault you for thinking the worst. I’m a convicted fraudster,” I add with a shrug.
Cannon’s eyes narrow, like he can’t figure out if I’m being straight with him or if I’m getting ready to tackle his ass. “I screwed up, brother. I misjudged you and I’m sorry.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why don’t we…uh…grab a beer or something?”
I pause my cleanup efforts to meet his stare. “Cannon, Don’t take it personally, but this isn’t going to work. You don’t trust me, and I really don’t blame you. But I can’t be here. Send over whatever paperwork you need to dissolve the partnership, and I’ll sign it. Kingston Realties is yours.”
I grab my shit and leave my brother standing shellshocked in the middle of the room.
I pause at the door and point in his direction. “But I will take a rain check on the beer sometime. Your treat.”
Then I walk out.
56 Jessa
You don’t need him, Bridget! You don’t need him! You have your job and your apartment and your friends. You don’t need him and that fancy, new diary he bought you!” I jab my spoon in the direction of the movie screen and ice cream droplets fall into my lap. “You. Do. Not. Need. A. Man!”
I must be getting a bit hysterical because the door swings open a crack and my sister pokes one eye in.
“Alexia—can you believe this crap?” I gesture at the TV. “She has all this good stuff going for her and she’s about to throw it away for some guy!”
I hit the back button on the remote, flipping away from one movie to another as I spend yet another morning multi-watching sugary romance films from the turn of the century.
“Now, look at those fools!” I shriek pointing at the shivering couple bobbing in the middle of the Atlantic while their luxury passenger ship sinks into the depths of the ocean. “Okay, let’s be real. If she really wanted to save him from freezing to death, she could have just scooted over a little bit on that floating door.”
I flip to another romantic classic where the couple is now making out on a dock in the rain.
“Don’t kiss him, you idiot!” I say to the heroine. “Knee him in the balls and run. Run for your life! He says he wrote to you every day for a year but where did the letters go?! He’s a liar and if he broke your heart once, he’s gonna break it again.” With a groan, I switch off the TV and drop the remote onto the seat beside me. “I can’t watch this.”
My sister opens the door fully and looks at me with a crinkled brow. “Honey, are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Me? I’m fine,” I insist.
“Well, it’s just that, you’re sitting here berating your favorite movies of all time. And you’re eating ice cream for breakfast for the third day this week. And I’m starting to get a bit worried about you.”
I settle back down on the couch, curled up with my knitted blanket. I cuddle my breakfast bowl of ice cream protectively to my chest. This sugary goodness is about the extent of my happiness each day. I used to limit myself to only enjoying ice cream treats after lunch time. But for the sake of my mental health, I’ve recently added it to the morning menu, too.
My sister settles next to me, her legs folded up beneath her. “You wanna talk about it?”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure what there
