Page 112 of Ten Rules for Faking It
“Clearly. What happened?”
“Just go somewhere else, okay? I don’t have time to screw around with you. You wouldn’t understand, anyway. You jump from one thing to the next without a plan, never stopping for a damn minute to see where you’re going. Everything is messed up. I don’t want to get into it with you.”
Noah pursed his lips, nodding and slamming the meeting room door. He pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, put his hands behind his head, and leaned back.
“First of all, fuck you. Maybe I jump from one thing to the next, but I’m happy with my life. I don’t need it color-coded,mapped out to the minute. Besides, this isn’t about me. Second, calm the hell down so we can fix what you broke.”
“Jesus. You’re so much like him sometimes, it drives me nuts. This can’t be fixed. I can’t throw money at it and make a deal. I can’t sweet-talk my way through this, okay?”
“You want to do this now? Okay, then. Back at you, bro. You’re more like him than you want to be, too. You don’t think outside the box. You’re too black and white. You keep things in separate boxes, and when there’s spillage, shit blows up, and instead of dealing with it, you wanna shove everything back into the right place.”
Chris stopped pacing and stared at his brother. “I have no clue what you just said.”
“There’s always a solution, Chris. I’m not talking about money. Punch something if you need to. Preferably not me, because I will punch you back. Whatever you gotta do. But pull yourself together. Let’s do what we do and figure this out.”
“You have no idea what’s even going on.”
“Nope. But I’m pretty smart, little brother. You’re all tied up in knots, your girl ran out of here crying, and your staff looks like a bomb exploded. Seems like they all might have found out about Dad and the business being a stepping-stone.”
Chris deflated, his anger morphing into hurt, his heart twisting at his brother’s words. “She was crying?”
Noah’s face softened. “Not quite, but she looked close. What the hell happened, man?”
Chris sank into his chair and pressed his head back against the cushion, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I screwed everything up.”
He filled his brother in on Mr. Lee, the staff finding out, and his conversation with Everly.
“It’s time to tell Dad to go screw himself. Sometimes I think his real full-time job is messing with us like puppets.”
Chris laughed at the analogy. “Little hard to do that when he’s holding the strings.”
“Cut them, then. We have our own money. You’re an excellent businessman. We don’t have to live by his decree. I’m not going back, man.”
Chris startled. “What?”
“I’m staying. I like it here. I don’t want to be in New York anymore. Under his thumb.”
Chris leaned forward, dropped his hands between his knees. “You’re moving to California. Just like that?”
Noah grinned and put his feet up on the table. “Well, I do like to jump around from one thing to another, but I can actually picture myself standing still here. Figuratively. I’m looking into more houses. I can make my own real estate investments here on the West Coast. It’s sunny here more often than not, I like the people, the vibe, and my little brother is going to live here if he gets his head out of his ass and figures out what he wants.”
Chris swallowed the lump in his throat. Noah made it seem so cut-and-dried, but he hadn’t seen Everly’s face. He hadn’t felt her shut down, step back physically and emotionally.
“Well? What do you want?”
The answer was simple. “Everly.”
When Chris arrived home that night, the fatigue went straight through to his bones. He’d spent the day putting a plan into action, which involved lawyers, conference calls, and talking with both of his brothers.
He let himself into his apartment, realizing the emptiness of it mirrored how he felt inside. He had to believe there was a way to fix things with Everly, but not tonight. If he let himself think about her, he wouldn’t be able to pull himself out. He’d be on the phone or at her door, begging for another chance. He had to settle things first. That was the only way to give her someof the guarantees she needed. One thing at a time. If he knew his father the way he was sure he did, he didn’t have much time to get settled.
Sure enough, as he sat down on his couch, his phone lit up, showing his father was trying to FaceTime him. Nerves resurfaced. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth.
“You’ve got this. If you don’t, well, you have nothing else to lose at this particular moment.”
With that, he swiped Accept.
“Dad. It’s nearly midnight in New York. Late night.”Keep calm. Don’t let him rile you.Those were Noah’s words.The numbers are in your favor.That, of course, was Wes’s wisdom.
