Page 94 of Mismatched

He continues, listing other people who will play a part in the new company structure. I see Milo puffing up his chest while trying to look humble before Derek makes a few comments, but I don’t hear any of it. All I can focus on is the creeping sense of dread sinking into my stomach.

In my pocket, my phone vibrates and I take it out just for somewhere to direct my attention.

Lydia

Got a couple more daycare tours scheduled. Hopefully we’ll like these ones better!

How did it go with Carl?

I swallow. The first daycare we saw was not inspiring. It was in an old, converted house, and while everything looked clean and the place had a good reputation, it seemed very disorganized and the people working there gave us the impression they were short-tempered and stressed.

Anything has got to be better than that place.

No chance to meet with him yet.

I flinch as I hit send, wondering if she’ll know it’s not the truth. But before I can ruminate on it further, I realize Carl is clearing his throat, preparing to make another announcement.

“One last celebratory note, albeit a bittersweet one, this Friday will be Riya’s last day with us. She’s decided to stay home with her baby girl.” Carl gives Riya a warm smile. “We’re going to miss you around here—make sure you bring that kiddo by sometime so we can meet her.”

“I will,” Riya says, dabbing at her eyes. “Everyone’s been so great. I’m going to miss you all. But I can’t wait to spend some time at home being my little girl’s mom.”

By the time I leave the office at five o’clock, I’m mulling over an idea, but I’m not sure it’s one I’m comfortable with. After checking in with Lydia, who promises she absolutely will leave work by six, I decide to swing by and see my brother.

I still can’t get over the ridiculously luxe building he lives in. There are lines of Teslas, BMWs, and Mercedes parked outside. And every person I pass is dressed in head-to-toe designer clothing. Turns out I have to check in with the concierge just to get access to the elevator.

I’ve hardly stepped foot here since Seth moved in two weeks ago, which I feel bad about. It just felt like I should spend every moment I could with Lydia while she was on bed rest. But that part is better, and it seems like I should at least make sure my brother isn’t sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

When the elevator opens on the eighteenth floor, I hear faint music coming down the hall to my right. It gets louder the closer I get to Seth’s door, until I recognize one of Mom’s favorite Sinatra songs. Doubtful, I ring the bell. When nothing happens, I go ahead and pound on the door with my fist.

“Anton! You made it up here fast!” Seth yells when he finally answers. He’s in jeans and a T-shirt that shows off muscle I don’t remember him having, his hair is tousled, and he’s in need of a shave. But his expression is brighter, happier than I can remember it being for a while. Behind him, Bruno is strutting around, crooning out of tune with Ol’ Blue Eyes.

“They are going to throw you out of here before you even unpack,” I say as he turns down the volume on a surprisingly compact Bluetooth speaker.

“As it turns out, the lady across the hall is hard of hearing.” He chuckles. “And the couple on the other side of me are on an extended tour of Rome. Anyway, you’re my first visitor!”

“Seth, I’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never buzzed you up.” He grins, looking like a little kid. But then peers more carefully at my expression and closes the door. “What’s up? Everything okay with Lydia?”

“Yeah,” I say quickly. “She’s fine. Went back to work this week.” I step fully inside, expecting to wade through a sea of unpacked boxes, until I realize the whole apartment is fully furnished and unpacked. Not with any of Mom’s shabby garage sale finds, but like, real furniture. There’s a retro-looking couch and coffee table, a cushy orange chair that looks like somewhere you’d smoke a pipe in a bathrobe, and even a little glass bar cart to one side. It looks like Don Draper should live here. “Wow, um... I love what you’ve done with the place?”

Seth chuckles, scooping up the cat, who yowls in response. “I didn’t keep much from Dallas. Bruno and I are kinda starting from scratch.”

“It... it looks nice,” I say, deciding the details of my brother’s existence are none of my business. I just hope I don’t ever have to help him through a bankruptcy. He sets down the cat and gestures me toward the couch. Bruno struts over to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows. “He seems to like the view.”

Seth smirks a little, perching in the orange chair. “Yeah, we do a lot of people-watching.”

“I uh... I came over to...” Now that I’m here, relaxing—or trying to, in my brother’s swank mod bachelor pad, that feeling of underwater dread creeps back in.

“Hey man, are you all right? You just went really pale.”

I shake my head. Then nod. Then just sit there, confused.

“Do you want a drink? Maybe a water?”

“Water’s good,” I croak. Once he’s brought me a chilled bottle from the fridge, I’m able to swallow. And then I just feel kind of stupid. “Sorry, uh, long day at work. Do you ah... want to come over for dinner?”

“Sure. As long as you’re not making lasagna again.” He laughs when I shoot him a glare. “I mean, you’re a great cook, but Mom made it every week. I don’t know how you eat it all the time.”

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