Page 36 of Hush Money
“Ditto,” she says. “I won’t be too long. Just want to finish up a few things before the weekend.”
I nod, kissing her one more time.
“I’ll be here on some calls this morning,” I tell her. “I already can’t wait to see you.”
She smiles as she blows me one more kiss before she and Todd get on the elevator.
I spendthe next few hours on some calls, responding to about eight hundred and seven emails, and getting my third cup of coffee. I’m really excited about some projects that we are kicking off in California. A self-sufficient farm that will run by labor of un-housed citizens in the downtown LA area. We plan to build temporary housing for them on the property so they have somewhere to live while they work.
Another project is an organization that will help connect victims of domestic violence with affordable housing, career coaching, and therapy.
They are small initiatives in a small corner of the country. But my grandfather always told us: “Goodness spreads. Plant the seed, and watch it grow.”
So that’s what I’m doing.
I know my brothers are too—well, at least Julian. He is hiding under the guise of being in charge of Everett Enterprises alongside our father, but he’s using that as a cover. He’s been utilizing Everett resources for years, trying to make his own small changes within the enterprise and outside of it.
We’ve been combatting our father’s greed for our whole lives.
But now we have to do it bigger—and do it faster.
I’m about to get dressed to go for a run when I see my brother’s name flash across my screen.
“Hey, J,” I say.
“Hey,” he huffs back. “She wants to meet. Can you come tonight?”
I swallow, my heartbeat thudding in my ears. I feel my stomach start to churn.
“Yes, of course,” I say as my office door nudges open.
And then I see her.
And I instantly feel calmer.
“Eight o’clock,” he says.
“See you then,” I say, pressing end.
She just stares at me, her bag still on her shoulder and her shoes still on.
“I want to come with you,” she says. My eyes widen.
“My brothers will be there,” I tell her. She knows what it means. They know her. Julian, especially, knows what happened between us. He knew how I felt about her. He knew she left. He knew I was crushed, because he spent six months flying out to California every few weeks to check in on me.
We won’t be able to hide it.
They’ll know.
“I know,” she says. I walk around the desk toward her.
“So, are you…”
“I don’t care,” she says. “I want to be there for you.” I reach out and take her hands.
“I love that,” I say, “but if you’re not ready?—”
“I’m ready, Keat,” she says. “I’ve always been ready for us. I just didn’t think I deserved it.”
