Page 8 of The Wrong Brother

“We could be shower friends too.”

He pulls back, staring at me and I realize too late how that sounded. Will I ever stop humiliating myself in front of him? I look up at the ceiling, fed up with myself. “What I mean to say is: you can use my shower anytime you need. Since we’re friends. I know you have a lot of clients townside and going home between probably isn’t feasible.”

“Of course.” He puts his arms back around me, holding me close and whispering against me. “I can be a friend who gets hugs and uses your shower. Not friends who shower together. That makes way more sense. Although I’m open to either option.”

I know I’m blushing again. Today is not my day and it’s hard to ignore how his jokes make me feel—like I wish he was serious.

“Next time I see you, I’ll give you a key so you can get in even when I’m at work.”

Rafferty gives me another small squeeze and then stands up.

“I’ve gotta meet my client in about twenty minutes. Thanks for letting me hang today, my queen.” He bows theatrically and kisses my hand, then drops it and kisses my cheek softly. His beard tickles my skin and I get butterflies in my stomach when his hand lingers on my face. He grabs his bag and ruffles Mina’s hair. “See ya, Meens.”

The door closes behind him and Mina comes back to snuggle on the couch. “How was today?” she asks.

I take a sip of the coffee Rafferty brought me, breathing deeply. I don’t want to talk about any of the embarrassing shit I did or said and I kind of want to keep all of the other, better stuff, to myself. Not to be secretive, necessarily. I guess I don’t want to admit how much it means to me.

“It was good.”

“What did you guys end up doing? Sorry I had to leave.”

“We understand, Mina. What you do is important. I’m glad that little girl has you fighting for her. I’d want you in my corner every time.” She squeezes me in a rough hug and I think about what Rafferty said about Mina not being cuddly. He’s not wrong. “We didn’t do much. We talked, Rafferty showered, and that’s about it. I wasn’t expecting it to be…comfortable. I can see why you and he have always been such good friends. He’s easy to talk to and very intuitive.”

“That’s Raff. I’m glad you guys had time, just the two of you. He’s an awesome person to have in your corner as well. What do we want to do? It’s almost dinnertime.”

“I’d like more of this, if that’s okay with you. Couch sitting, maybe a show, then get something delivered so we don’t have to move.” It’s not that I don’t have energy but I know Mina is less likely to admit that she’s emotionally drained and will push through if I say I want to go somewhere. This way I can take care of her and she can save face. That’s a lot of our dynamic in a nutshell.

We end up bingeingPsychwith a giant bowl of garlic and parmesan popcorn, laughing and quoting lines back and forth until Mina brings up Griffin. She wants to know if we are anything and I don’t know what to tell her. It’s like I told Rafferty earlier, I know there will be expectations because of our families and that sort of thing drives Griffin. He’s always tried to be who everyone else expects him to be, the same way I’ve always tried to be as good as they expect me to be. He’s a great guy with qualities that would make him a good partner. But every time I think about him an image of Rafferty, naked in my bathroom appears instead and I have to shake my head like I can rattle the picture loose.

When it’s all laid out, column by column, I can say that I’d be willing to give dating Griffin a shot. I have to be. I tell my sister that and hate myself for even saying it out loud. At least I know he’s not the kind of guy who will cheat on me. Except I don’t feel anything for Griffin. There’s no attraction there, at all. Especially not after today with Rafferty. I feel like I owe it to Griffin and our parents to give it a real chance, even if he is starting to seem like the wrong brother.

* * *

Monday morning is moving steadily, everything as it should be. When I get back to my office from refreshing my cup of coffee I have a message to go talk to the top brass. I’m basically a nobody in this firm. I don’t know why they’d want to see me. I immediately feel like I’m being called into the principal’s office and anxiety rushes in. I leave my mug on my desk and make a quick detour to the bathroom. It’s early in the day so my trousers aren’t too wrinkled. The ivory shell tank I have on is good quality and looks nice tucked in. I adjust my necklace chain, move the clasp to the back of my neck, and run my fingers through my long waves. It’s fine. I’ve got this. My work speaks for itself. I can’t possibly be in trouble. I put my hands in my pockets, hoping I look relaxed and casual when in actuality I’m hiding my shaking fingers. I stop outside the office I had been directed to, smiling at the receptionist.

“They’re waiting for you inside, Ms. Brookner.”

They? I assumed it was the CFO. What exactly is this? I squeeze my fingers together and breathe deeply.

I enter the office and have to clench my teeth to keep my jaw from dropping open. On one side are the firm’s CFO and CEO, the big bosses. On the other side, schmoozing with gleaming teeth and perfectly coiffed hair, are Mr. and Mrs. Withering. They own a fancy boutique hotel on island along with sister locations on Maui and the Big Island. They’re also the parents of my former friend and college roommate, Pressley. The evil, manipulative cheating whore who used me and screwed with my mind before literally screwing my serious boyfriend. The witch who uses the postal service to keep her claws in me. They turn to see me, all smiles. I hate the knot that forms in my stomach when I look at them. They were always so kind to me. I don’t understand how the two of them produced legit demon spawn.

“Catherine, my dear, it’s been too long! Look at you, so beautiful and successful!” Mrs. Withering pulls me into a hug, kissing both of my cheeks.

“Catherine!” Mr. Withering’s voice is booming and the hand gripping my shoulder is strong and tanned with an expensive-looking manicure. “So good to see you.” I smile at them both, returning their sentiments while trying not to say anything about why I stopped seeing them. God, I hope that doesn’t get asked in this setting.

Mr. Mattingly, my boss, gestures toward the open chairs. “Why don’t we all take a seat and get down to it.” I still don’t have any idea why I’m here. “Ms. Brookner, it appears you are acquainted with the Witherings.” He gives me a pointed look but in the absence of an actual question, I’m not sure if he’s expecting an answer. Mr. Withering saves me from what was sure to be some frantic overthinking.

“Sure, sure, Catherine here was our little Pressie’s roommate at UH. The smartest and nicest friend our daughter ever had. The way everything turned out was painful for everyone.” He pats my hand kindly and I feel guilty, like I’m the one that fucked my best friend’s boyfriend.

“Well,” Mattingly addresses me, “the Witherings are set to open a high-end restaurant in Waikiki. This is a separate business from their hotels entirely. They have requested you, personally, to be their CPA for this project.”

WHOA. This is huge. This account would be the biggest thing I’ve ever handled. It would be a sizable step forward for my career and my standing in the firm. I want to gush, to thank them for thinking of me, to ramble like the girl who was hurt by losing out on spring breaks and summers at their house. I am, however, sitting in front of the top two men at my firm. A firm that handles the Withering’s hotels. They’re one of our biggest accounts. I’m not approaching this moment with anything but the utmost professionalism.

“I believe this will be a good partnership.” I turn to my bosses. “Will we be going over contracts and discussing levels of responsibility here or would you like me to schedule a separate meeting for that?” Mattingly gives me a quick jerk of his chin that tells me this was the correct way to respond.

“For now we simply wanted to bring you together and let you know about the account. The Witherings will be meeting with you, along with the restaurant manager, within the hour, if that works for you.”

“That sounds great. Do you need me for anything else here or can I head back to pull up the paperwork?”

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