Page 30 of The Sweet Spot

Mission accomplished.

“It’s probably easier to ask who hasn’t pissed me off. Newsflash—your name wouldn’t be on that list.” I pull off one glove with my teeth, then unlace and yank off the other. “How’s your new room, shithead?”

“Come on, Brynnie. It’s not like I stole your room. You and Maddox made your agreement. That’s not my fault. I just accepted an offer. You know I’ve been dying to get out of Mom and Dad’s house.” My brother might be six feet, four inches of lethally trained muscle, but he’s still a big baby.

“Whatever you say, Killer. I hope you get crabs from sharing a bathroom with Callen.” I wipe the sweat from my face with the back of my hand, then smack his chest. “Don’t come crying to me when you need a shot of penicillin.”

“Whatever.” The ass pats my head with a condescendingly annoying grin. “Dad wants you in his office.”

“You should have started with that,” I tell him before walking away.

“Hey, you’ve got to clean the bag,” he calls back.

“Looks like that’s on you now. Dad wants me,” I singsong back to him and walk down the hall to Dad’s office.

This day started out so promising. But that was before I got proverbially bitchslapped, first by Isla, then by the Revolution. I’m not even sure how to classify the news that Deacon is going back to Boston. I know it’s just a few weeks, but right now that feels like an eternity. I’m pretty sure this day can officially be classified as a shit show. At least that’s what I’m calling it in my head when I walk up to Dad’s closed door. Maybe that means I’m getting a reprieve.

A girl can hope.

I knock once and he yells, “Come in,” right away.

Guess it’s just not my day.

Time to face the music.

“Hi, Daddy.”

Dad looks up from his computer, the same one I’m fairly sure he’s had for twenty years because Cade St. James despises technology with a flaming, fiery, passion. He removes the black glasses he started to wear a few years ago and shakes his head before he bothers to stand up and open his arms for me to step into, like he’s always done. Once he’s wrapped me up in a sweaty hug, he rests his chin on the top of my head and breathes out a sigh.

“Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, Dad,” I tell him, knowing I need to hit him up for a job but not ready to break that ice just yet. Luckily, I don’t have to wait long.

He pulls away and guides me to the seat across from his desk. Also the same one he’s had for twenty years. “Now... You want to tell me what the hell changed between Friday night and now?”

I blink up at him quietly, knowing he’s not done with me yet.

“When I went to bed Friday, I had a baby girl away at college, a son who lived at home, another baby girl living her best life in a penthouse condo, working as a physical therapist for the number one hockey team in the nation, and a happy wife.” He scratches his graying temple, then glares. “Do you want to know what’s changed?”

“Umm...” I don’t dare tell him I know exactly what’s changed. Not when he’s already on a roll.

“Umm... sounds about right. Your brother moved out. Ironically, into your former penthouse. Your mother is pissed at the world, including me.” He pauses for a minute and shakes his head again. “Why, you ask, is she pissed at me?”

“I didn’t?—”

“She’s pissed at me because I apparently stole you from her after she moved you onto her staff from Max’s staff. Pissed at me. I didn’t even know I stole you. You gotta help me here, Brynnie, because I know I’m getting old, but I really didn’t think I was so old that I forgot about you finally accepting the job offer to be our staff physical therapist.” He sits his ass on the corner of his desk and grips the edge with rapidly whitening knuckles. “Did I miss anything else over the course of forty-eight hours, Brynlee?” His voice has gotten quiet as he’s gone on, and that’s never a good sign.

“Gracie moved back in with me for a few months,” I tell him hesitantly, unsure if he’s angry or just confused. It’s kinda hard to tell.

“Okay, great. Add that to the list of rapidly changing events. Gracie Sinclair is back from London, and if I understand correctly, you’re what... sharing your cousin Maddox’s condo?”

I nod in agreement, not wanting to open my mouth again.

“Okay. So now that we’re on the same page, can I ask a few questions and get a few straight answers from you? Because your mother isn’t just mad at me. She’s furious with you too. She says you won’t talk to her. You ignored her yesterday and apparently walked right by her today when you gave Max your letter of resignation.” Then his cheeks grow redder, and I’m a little concerned he’s about to stroke out.

Oh, shit. I may have broken my dad.

“Oh. OH. Let’s not forget your mother hired that little shit from Block Island to coach the Revolution and then told me he was making eyes at you this morning. This is the shit I’m getting called about, Bryn. I’m gonna need your help here, kid.”

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