Page 72 of Mostly Loathing You

I used to hate these bi-weekly meetings with my dad, but in the past few months, I’ve grown to miss their frequency. It used to be like clockwork: every other Thursday morning we would meet in his office to discuss what I’ve done, how I’m approaching certain things, and his plans for retirement and where I fall into that.

However, he’s canceled our last two meetings, and one a couple months ago. I know he’s insanely busy with Mr. Baker being less present, but I found a lot of comfort in touching base with him every so often.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve spent the past few weeks…distracted. Hannah and I have fallen into a rhythm both in the office and at home. Most nights she’s at my place, but sometimes we make our way over to hers. Although, I’ll admit I’ve avoided her place like the plague since Sage caught me leaving in the morning a couple weeks ago.

Thanksgiving was weird. Hannah’s parents didn’t come up, so she defaulted to being with my parents here in Atlanta. While in the past I wouldn’t even think twice about it, thechange in our relationship has led to…less-than-opportune situations transpiring at the hand of our parents. I hate to admit it, but I’m glad her parents didn’t come up from Live Oak and didn’t require Jackson and Hannah to come visit them.

I don’t like the way Hannah’s mom treats her, and the further in I get with her, the more it pisses me off to watch and not say anything.

As I step out of the threshold to my dad’s space, I notice a random brunette sitting at Hannah’s desk down the hall. It’s not uncommon for temps to fill in for our assistants when they’re out of town, but I wasn’t aware Hannah had a trip coming up.

Weird.

I walk past the temp without so much as a hello.

“Where’s your sister?” I ask Jackson.

“She’s in New York.”

“What do you mean she’s in New York?” I try to quell the panic in my response, but there’s no hiding it—I’m freaking out.

Why would she go back to New York without so much as telling me? Does she really think the approach to whatever this is between us is to run back to New York without saying anything?

“I mean…she’s in New York?” Jackson quirks a brow, a confused expression plaguing him.

In the past, I would take this as an opportunity to express how glad I am to have Hannah out of my hair, but as my stomach sours and I worry I may throw up, I realize that things have shifted far more than I’d originally thought.

How the hell did we get here?

“When does she come back?”

Jackson just shrugs at my question as he shifts his attention back to his computer. I feel like he should know when his sister is supposed to return from New York City. Does that mean she isn’t coming back?

Liam

when do you get back?

I stuff my phone back into my pants pocket as I attempt not to pace back and forth in our office. If Jackson sees through my attempts to hide why I’m frantic, he doesn’t make it known. He just taps away at his keyboard, the sound of the clicks mixing with the ticking of the clock on the wall, my patience wearing with every passing sound.

Pulling my suit jacket off the back of my black desk chair, I push my arms through the sleeves, finding solace in the way the scratchy fabric grounds me.

“Where are you going?” Jackson looks up from his computer, a crease in his brow.

“Out.” I throw my bag over my shoulder before fastening one button on my jacket, enough to secure it, but not so much that it looks weird.

“When are you coming back?”

“Dunno,” I respond as I barrel out of the office, not so much as a goodbye leaving my lips. I turn to the unfamiliar female at Hannah’s desk with a forced smile.

“Due to unforeseen circumstances, I’m going to be out of office. Do you have access to my calendar?”

“Yes, Mr. Park. Your assistant left me with all the logins.”

“Great, please clear my schedule for today and tomorrow. Let them know that I’m sorry for the short notice, but that an emergency came up.”

“Yes, sir,” she awkwardly responds as she pulls up myGoogle calendar, the same calendar that is filled to the brim with colorful meeting and engagement tiles.

“Thank you.” I don’t so much as ask her name as I step away, walking past my dad’s office without even attempting to inform him of my pending absence. He’ll figure it out…or he’ll blow up my phone. Either way, it’s done.

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