Page 93 of In Good Company

Thirteen nights I’ve lain awake talking myself out of calling her and reminding myself that if she wanted to talk to me, she would.

I fell in love with a woman who wasn’t ready to be loved, and I’m paying the price for it.

It doesn’t help that everything reminds me of her. I used to love the Hamptons and Pembroke. Being here for the summer was my escape. Now, being here without her is torture.

I barely want to step foot in Pembroke Grill, thinking of all the times we sat around a table with our friends.

Speaking of friends, I’ve rejected every invite to see them. Idon’t want to have to explain Lucy’s sudden disappearance to anybody. Jude’s the only one who hasn’t let me avoid him. The fucker shows up every morning and forces me to get out of bed. He even makes me eat by hitting up different local spots and bringing breakfast in the morning. He doesn’t ask about Lucy, but he gives me updates about her dad, thanks to Charlotte.

I’m happy that they’re back at home and he seems to be recovering, but I can’t pretend I’m not devastated that she hasn’t reached out. Part of me was holding out hope that once her dad was out of the hospital, she’d call or text me.

She hasn’t.

And now, I’m just left in a house that reminds me of her.

I walk into Pembroke’s gentleman’s lounge, wishing I was anywhere but here. Even this club reminds me of Lucy. I don’t want to be here, but I’m also a curious man.

When Ollie reached out and told me he was in the Hamptons for the weekend and wanted to meet, my first thought was to tell him no. I’m already reminded of Lucy enough. I hate that even looking at my brother will remind me of her as well.

My eyes scan the dark room before I find my brother sitting in a back corner. He sits in a large leather armchair with an empty one right across from him.

I sigh, still far enough away that he hasn’t noticed me. If I turned around now and left the lounge, he’d never know.

I weigh my options for a moment and ultimately decide that I’m too curious to walk away before talking to him. We don’t have a close relationship. He never reaches out, and I can’t help but wonder if Lucy is the reason he did. It can’t be a coincidence.

I close the distance to Ollie before stopping right in front of him. His eyes go wide when he spots me.

He takes me by surprise by standing up and giving me what looks like a genuine smile. “Cal, good to see you.”

I try to wipe the surprise from my face at his friendly demeanor. “Ollie,” I respond, saying his name slowly.

Ollie points to the empty chair across from him. “Want to sit? I ordered you a bourbon, but I’m still waiting on it. Is that still your drink of choice?”

I watch him carefully as I take a seat, wondering what the hell is going on.

“That’s perfect,” I answer, keeping my voice even.

Ollie nods. “Cool,” he gets out before joining me in taking a seat. I don’t even know the last time we saw each other, but somehow in that time, he looks different. He’s dressed better, more maturely. And that annoying, overly cocky demeanor he normally has is nowhere to be found.

“Why did you want to meet today?” I ask, not wanting to beat around the bush. I’d much rather be at home throwing myself into work to avoid the gaping hole in my chest left by Lucy.

Ollie’s eyes go wide for a moment. He takes a sip of his drink, seemingly trying to buy himself time to get his thoughts together. “You’re getting right to the point, aren’t you?” he mutters under his breath.

I nod, my focus still on him as I try to figure out what he wants before he can even ask it.

Is he here because he somehow heard about me and Lucy? Surely not. I’d expect him to be more hostile if that was the reason for him setting up a meeting.

He could be here asking me for money, but it doesn’t feel like that either. If he needs money, he goes to Dad, not me. I don’t think he’s stupid enough to think I’d ever give him a loan.

For once, I can’t predict someone’s next move, even if it’s my brother.

“Listen, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about today,” Ollie begins, his tone becoming more uneasy.

I sigh. “If this is about Lucy, I don’t want to hear it,” I respond, cutting him off as he opens his mouth to say something else.

His mouth snaps shut, and his eyebrows rise to his hairline. “Lucy?” he asks, his voice full of disbelief. He stares at me, completely dumbfounded, making it clear that whatever he came to talk about, it wasn’t her.

I pinch the bridge of my nose between my pointer finger and thumb. I’m so exhausted that I spoke before I should’ve. I reacted instead of waiting for him to tell me the reason for wanting a meeting.

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