Page 42 of Master Debater

Nate expelled a big sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, and an ill-timed laugh burst out of me. Not sure why, as it wasn’t a great indicator that he might want more than no-strings fun. Something that in this odd moment, while crouched down in front of his drunk sister in the prettiest dress I’d ever worn, I realized I definitely did.

Regardless of what happened if I got brave enough to broach that subject, there was a likability factor to Rylee’s blunt honestly that was hard to deny. The alcohol undoubtedly magnified it, but I had a feeling it was part of her personality, even sober.

“Oh no,” she said. “It’s coming back—” She pivoted, and Nate snatched up her hair in a loose ponytail, right in time for her to double over and wretch in the hallway.

Chapter 23

Nate

My mom sent a text, asking where I’d gone and saying she was worried because Rylee wasn’t answering her phone. When I pivoted the screen to Willa so she could read the message, she insisted I go placate my mother while she finished taking care of my sister.

I’d told her I couldn’t leave her with the mess—although I had gotten someone else to clean up the vomit, tipping them generously for their troubles—but Willa insisted.

Every couple of minutes, I glanced at the door to the hallway, worried she’d come through it with my sister and worried she wouldn’t. What was Rylee thinking, getting wasted before showing up at the event Mom had been looking forward to sharing with us for months? Lead filled my lungs, leaving them heavier and heavier. I didn’t know what to do with Rylee anymore.

Anytime Dad’s death came up, it took a toll on Mom. Like she could handle life unless she was confronted with the reality the man she loved was gone. In the past, I’d thought of that sort of codependency as more of a hindrance than anything. It felt like a constant tug of war, with compromise and accepting disappointment. For instance, all the times I ended up traveling with Mom because Dad suddenly couldn’t take off work like he promised. Then there’d be tension in the house for a while, and a day or so later, poof. Gone like it never happened.

Dad compromised too. Mostly on house décor and allowing her to host events and parties since it made her so happy. While I hadn’t known it at the time, I’d later found out he’d been furious she’d enrolled me in piano lessons. A chuckle had accompanied his recounting of the day he’d “risked his life” by telling Mom the instrument was for girls. Evidently, it’d been the biggest argument they’d ever had, and he ate every one of his words when he attended the musical showcase and heard me play.

“There are things you were born for, and that, son, is one of your things,” he told me that day, his eyes misty. I’d never seen him express that sort of emotion before, and each time I thought about it, it left my throat too tight.

And yet, that was the same day I’d decided that long-term relationships—and marriage, in particular—involved losing far too often for me to entertain the idea.

Not to get ahead of myself, but Willa was one of those people who’d be good to have through thick and thin, and tonight provided me with more than enough evidence. She probably thought I was joking when I told her she belonged to me, but it’d come out, unplanned and unfiltered. Not in an objectifying sort of way, where I thought of her as my property; more that I felt like we belonged to each other.

“Nathan?”

I jerked my gaze away from the door, searching my brain for any words that’d sunk in during Mom’s introduction to the woman who ran the gallery. All I found was Willa. “Sorry. What was that?”

“Worried about your date?” Mom asked, a smug lilt to her voice. She had no idea. Since I was mostly worried about my date having to deal with Rylee’s drunken disorderliness, I also wanted to keep her in the dark on that subject.

“There she is. Talking to…” Anger soared to the forefront, incinerating every other thought and emotion. “Bobby and Gil. Did you invite them?” I asked, whipping my accusatory gaze at Mom and making myself a hypocrite. Hadn’t I just lectured Rylee on not rocking the boat on our mother’s special night?

Through the whirring thoughts in my mind, I heard Mom’s heavy sigh, signaling, yes, yes, she did. “Dad would’ve wanted you to mend bridges, Nathan. Not burn everything to the ground out of spite. If you’d give your uncles a shot, you’d see how hard they’re trying to make amends.”

Amends, my ass. Dad’s former partners had Willa and Rylee cornered, and if I knew them—and unfortunately, I did—they were sniffing around, trying to dig up dirt. With Rylee there, they’d find some too. I’d made a big show of how quickly I’d wash my hands of her case, but it’d been a bluff. One I’d hoped she wouldn’t call me on since she could almost out-stubborn me.

Almost.

Like a bull who’d seen a waving red cape, I charged.

“Please be nice,” Mom called after me, and I picked up my pace. Nice? Seriously? Should I wipe off the bloody blade they’d lodged in our backs and hand it over so they could stab it in again and again?

Gil flashed me a fake-as-fuck smile as I approached. “Nate the Great. I was just asking your sister about you. And given how quickly you rushed over, I’m assuming this beautiful creature is…” He aimed his smile at Willa, and the blood in my veins froze and burst into slicing shards I planned on using on him.

“None of your concern.” I stepped between him and Willa, cutting off his access while Rylee looked on, her gaze slightly clearer. The scowl she flashed Gil and Bobby was far weaker than mine, but there. Maybe I could count on her to line up on my side, after all.

“What’s going on?” Willa asked from behind me. “We hadn’t gotten around to exchanging names yet.”

“Forgive me,” Bobby said in the falsely charming voice he used to win over clients, judges, and jury members. “I’m Bobby and this is Gil. Nate and Rylee’s uncles.”

Without me having to clarify, understanding flashed through Willa’s features, her warm expression turning cold. It made me want to kiss the hell out of her right then and there. “Oh. It’s them.”

Gil stepped forward, hands raised in supplication. “I’m not sure what Nate’s told you, but?—”

“Enough. That’s what he’s told me.” Willa jabbed a finger at him. “You two didn’t even let the family mourn before you yanked their father’s legacy out from underneath them. It’s deplorable and vile, and I’m sure you’re going to say you’re sorry now that you’re losing so many clients to Nate’s firm. But I don’t think any of us want to hear it.” She glanced from me to Rylee, and back to me. “That’s a hard pass all-around. Now, if you’ll excuse us”—she clamped onto my hand—"we’ve got other places to be. As in, any other place but around you.”

With that, Willa draped an arm over Rylee’s shoulders, and propelled all three of us in the opposite direction.

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