Page 13 of Plunge

CHAPTER TEN

Fletcher

I SPEND A while longer in Greece, meeting with Snodgrass and calling Emily a thousand times a day. I’ve plucked half the hair from my knuckles fretting over this situation when Emily finally says, “Look. They’re not going to let you in, Fletch. So you can either accept that or keep bothering me, but either way, we’ve got a televised event to produce.”

I have a really hard time accepting this. My company is carrying on without me. I’m sure Emily is capable of handling things, but what about the personal relationships I’ve nurtured with sponsors? With network executives? What are they thinking when they realize I’m not actually present in the damn country, let alone at meetings?

“We’ve been saying the phrase ‘visa issues,’ and then muttering about the current political climate,” Emily says, as if she can read my mind. She probably does have a sensor linked into my frontal lobe. “Most of them just nod and carry on. Really, Fletch. This is going to be ok.”

It doesn’t feel ok. It feels like the rug has been pulled out from under me and I’m once again sitting around waiting for things to happen rather than making things happen.

I fucking hate being out of control, being left out of the decision process. It’s why I started my own business.

I throw my phone across my hotel room and as it bounces on the mattress, I see the screen is lit up with notifications. My family has been calling nonstop, texting me. My brother’s wife is in the hospital on bedrest. Something about high blood pressure and her pregnancy.

Honestly, I don’t have the capacity to worry about one additional thing right now and I have been ignoring them on purpose for days. Suddenly, though, after that conversation with Emily, I feel like shit about it.

I know my siblings weren’t involved in the big cover-up keeping me in the dark when Thistle was pregnant. When I knocked up my girlfriend in high school, she and her mom decided to keep me in the dark about it.

I was heading off to college on an athletic scholarship. None of them wanted me to do anything to compromise that opportunity since Thistle wasn’t planning to keep the baby.

Thistle’s parents knew. My parents knew. All these people I cared about were conspiring to keep me in the dark.

It’s haunted me for years. By the time I found out what was going on, Thistle was in the emergency room having a miscarriage.

When I walked out of there, I left Oak Creek for good.

It doesn’t seem to matter how many years pass or how much prestige I’ve got in my job. I still have to deal with people more powerful than me making decisions that affect me without discussing it with me first.

“Fuck this shit,” I yell into the empty hotel room. My phone pings again from the bed.

It’s my sister this time. I’m real worried about Abigail. Wish you were here.

I stand on the balcony of my room with my hands on my hips, breathing in and out through my nose. Below me, I can see people getting ready for Christmas. Even if they’re obviously tourists away from home, they’re holding up reindeer headbands for selfies. Enjoying their time together.

I lean forward and grip the railing, let my head fall between my arms and feel the stretch along my back as I try to think. My brother’s baby is in trouble. If there’s anyone who hates not being in control worse than me, it would be…well most of my siblings. But Hunter must be truly gutted by whatever is causing his wife to be on bed rest.

Hell, if Diana is rattled it must be bad. I kick the railing, listening to the thud reverberate in the warm air, and I go into the room, throwing my stuff into my bags. I ask the concierge to call me a cab as I text Emily to see if she can grab me a flight to Philadelphia.

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