Page 37 of My Dear Mr. Corporate

CHAPTER 17

Tate

I was on my third glass of whiskey when the front doors opened. I closed my eyes and drew in steady breaths, reminding myself that it wasn’t his fault he hadn’t shown up today when I had needed him. I almost never asked for anything, so this had meant a lot to me. My mother could have never called me on a worse day inviting me over to her birthday party next weekend. After almost an hour on the phone with her I was surprised I had any hair left.

I had received Bry’s voicemail explaining he was held up at work. I tried to understand that my expectations of what he should have done versus the approach he took would vary. On the one hand, he was thinking about his job, the only one he had been able to get. On the other, I was thinking that he hadn’t been there when I needed him. Visiting the cemetery had been such a pivotal point in my life that I expected him to have walked out of that job for me.

It might seem a bit extreme of me to expect that much of him but for fuck’s sake it wasn’t like he needed to work. I had extended to him the possibility of working with the foundation if it would make him feel better about being positively engaged, but he had turned it down. I had tried to help him, offered him better solutions but he had chosen to accept a job that he had placed before me— a job like that which he could have gotten anywhere else.

If it hadn’t been for Gio I would have fallen apart at the cemetery. Everything had come rushing back, the news about the accident, the rush to the hospital, the accusations, the media. Pushing aside the tension that had existed between us since he confessed how he felt about me, Gio had shown up, knowing I would need him. Despite the fact that he must have felt hurt that I still continued to choose Bryan over him, he had pushed aside the hurt feelings to continue being a friend. It hadn’t occurred to me to ignore his call when he rang my phone. I had needed someone. Anyone.

Bryan’s footsteps entered the kitchen and he stopped just inside. “Tate,” he said on a sigh. “I’m so sorry.”

I glanced up at him and saw the worry and regret in his eyes. I shifted my gaze because although he did look sorry, I didn’t want to forgive him just yet. Holding on to my anger with him meant I didn’t have to assess how I felt after visiting my wife and child, whose accident I still felt responsible for. I needed to cling to my anger and disappointment in him.

“You chose your job over me,” I stated plainly, clutching the glass between my hands and interlocking my fingers to keep them steady.

“It wasn’t like that at all.” He approached me at the island where I was sitting. “I thought Samantha was just running late. I had every intention of getting out of there the minute she stepped in, but she never showed up.”

“Not to worry,” I told him, saluting him with my drink before I downed it and poured another.

“How much have you had?” he asked, reaching for the bottle and putting it away.

“This is my fourth. I think.”

“Don’t drink it, Tate,” he pleaded with me. “I know I should have been there for you, and I would have if you had explained fully to me. I had to find out by seeing the dates on their stones. Why didn’t you just tell me this was the day they passed away?”

“Does it matter?” I growled at him, trying to contain my anger, hurt and disappointment. “I asked you to be there. You should have known it was important. Even Gio showed up despite everything. How many times have I asked you for anything, Bryan? How many?”

He pushed his fingers through his hair looking stressed. “Never. You’ve never asked.”

“Exactly.”

“But my job—”

“I don’t give a fuck about your stupid job!” I snapped at him, the words tumbling out of my mouth in anger, even though I sensed they were not the right things to say. “You don’t need that job. I give you everything you want and more! Yet you chose that job over me.”

“I get it,” he said calmly though the hand he placed on my shoulder was shaking. “You’re upset but don’t belittle what I do. I may not be the C.E.O. of some company but I’m working, providing for myself and being independent.”

“Why are you so preoccupied with being independent?” I flung at him. “Is being dependent on me such a bad thing? Have I ever let you down? Failed to meet your needs?”

He pushed back from the island and stared at me in frustration. “That’s where you don’t get it. I’ve barely had anything in my life. The one time I thought I had something, it was yanked away from me by Keith. I was left in a vulnerable spot, Tate, one in which I had very little choice but to move in with you. I don’t want to ever be in that situation again where I’m that dependent on anyone.”

I frowned at him. “Are you saying you would have never moved in with me if you didn’t need somewhere to stay?”

“The truth is that I probably wouldn’t have, but it would have not changed the way I feel about you. Would you love me any less simply because I wasn’t living with you?”

I stared into the amber liquid of my scotch and let his words sink in. “It doesn’t matter. I got over the day. No big deal.”

He walked over to me and placed a hand on my thigh. “Except it was a big deal for you and I’m sorry I didn’t get to be there for you.” He paused, gnawing at his bottom lip before expelling a loud breath. “Did you call him?”

I didn’t pretend not to know who he was talking about. “No, I didn’t.”

“So, he just showed up?”

“Pretty much. Gio always could read me. He knew I would be feeling like shit today.”

He squeezed my thigh, his expression sad. “How can I win with him in the picture, Tate? He knows so much about you already and you barely talk to me about what’s going on with you. How can I catch up? You’re giving him all the ammunition to use against me, and what am I supposed to fight back with?”

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