Page 29 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

“Him,” I corrected, and the light of hope in her eyes made me instantly regret it.

“Him?”

“He’s a colleague, Grandma. From Texas. Nothing can happen.”

“So he’s from out of town and has no one to keep him company other than a pretty thing like you?” Her sly smile was back. “He must be lonely then. Invite him over for Kenner’s birthday next Saturday.

“I don’t think—”

“It’s the least we can do to thank him for taking such good care of you,” Grandma said. Then she stretched out and yawned. “You know, it is getting late. I think I’ll get some shut eye, now that I know you’re home safe.” She hugged me tight, and I squeezed her back.

“I love you,” I said, only the slightest edge of exasperation creeping into my voice.

“I love you too,” she replied, giving me an extra tight squeeze before releasing me. “I can’t wait to meet...”

“Tyler,” I supplied.

“Tyler next Saturday,” she finished. “Goodnight, darling.”

“Goodnight.”

15

Tyler

Growing up on a ranch, I could always count on some hard physical labor to occupy my mind, but now I had to make my own solutions. I worked out the next morning, hoping it would take care of my buzzing thoughts.

But this time, it didn’t help like it usually did. No matter how many times I bench-pressed, squatted, or pulled myself up on the bar, I could still see that asshole pressed up against Henrietta. Still feel the soft skin of her forehead underneath my lips.

And most of all, I could feel the pit of guilt growing in my stomach. I shouldn’t have taken things as far as I did.

I got on the treadmill and turned it to full speed, sprinting as hard as I could. As if I could forget my own personal rule or the situation we were in. I knew better than to start something I couldn’t finish. Yet here I was, ready to break my rule just a couple of weeks into this assignment. I needed a kick in the ass.

I needed to talk to my older brother.

Gage had always been one who knew when to follow the rules and when to break them. He’d pushed my siblings and me to do better and work harder, regardless of who was watching. On top of that, he’d taught us patience—the importance of making the right move at the right time and being certain when we did. It was part of what led to his success in business and made him one of my most trusted advisors.

And even though I didn’t want him telling me to back off from Henrietta, I knew I needed him to.

I slowed the treadmill and draped a towel around my sweaty neck. After taking a few deep breaths and drinking a slug of water, I picked up my phone and dialed his number.

After a few rings, he appeared on my screen, dressed in a suit with the blue sky behind him. I’d asked him once why he turned his desk away from the panoramic view he had of downtown Dallas, and he said he wasted too much time looking at the city instead of his work.

“Hold on,” he said, not yet looking at the phone.

I continued walking toward my apartment, waiting for him to finish up whatever had his attention.

When I crested the stairs, he said, “Sorry, I’m acquiring a self-storage facility and had to move some things around to make it happen.”

“Self-storage?” I asked, my interest piqued. “Is there any money in that?”

“Ridiculous amounts. Everyone’s been sleeping on them, including myself.”

“Interesting.” I pressed my key into the lock and walked into my empty apartment.

“I’m assuming you didn’t call me to discuss investment opportunities,” he said. “Although, your portfolio is doing well, by the way.”

“Of course it is. You’re managing it.”

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