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Smirking, I countered, “Those eyes.”
“Rescues orphans, for pity’s sake.”
“With his sister.”
Brows arched theatrically, Max conspiratorially asked, “How’s the backside?”
“Guys,” Alice whined. “Focus.”
“Right,” Max said, grimacing. “We need a plan.”
“We have a plan,” Mara objected. “Goodie goodie over here didn’t want to execute the plan for fear of bruising the dickhead’s poor wil’ ego.”
“Not anymore,” I said with a huff, throwing my hands up as I returned to pacing in front of the propped-up phone. Max and Alice tracked the movements through the screen. “Have my brother’s fund it. For Christ’s sake. We’re talking millions of dollars here, not some thirty-thousand-dollar startup. Even if the guys had that kind of cash—okay, so Pax might have that kind of cash—but that’s irrelevant. Even if it was an option, it is not an option.”
“No way,” Max said, purely in solidarity.
“You are a strong, independent woman,” Alice added for good measure. “You don’t need no man. Not even our brothers.”
“Except for…well…you know, Pax’s pre-existing investment,” Mara pointed out.
“Hey,” Max and I barked simultaneously.
“Whose side are you on?” I demanded.
Shrugging, she adjusted baby Nate in her arms before saying, “Just pointing out the facts here.” She bobbed her head, short, silky hair shifting as both faces on the screen looked in her direction with skeptical arched brows. “Fact one,” she held up a free hand and raised her index finger, “he’s being a jerk. But I think it’s because—fact two—he’s in love with you and thought Mr. tall, blonde and beautiful was making a move.”
“Objection denied,” I quipped, crossing my arms. “The prosecution holds that if he has feelings, he’s had fourteen years of me being a legal prospect to make a move and hasn’t. Regardless. Belittling my accomplishments is horse shit, and now he’s going down.”
“In his dreams,” Max mumbled, stifling a laugh when I shot a glare in his direction. He ran a broad palm over dark black hair, pushing it away from his eyes. “Look, Elly, you two have done this dance for over a decade. I’m sure he’s at least dreamed?—”
“Max!” I yelped, collapsing onto the mattress in exasperation.
“What?” He raised his palms in surrender.
“I mean, Max is right. He’s wanted you since you both were in high school,” Alice agreed. “And he’s not that much older than you. The whole ‘you’re not eighteen’ thing was chicken shit.”
“Guys,” I whined, dropping my face into my sweaty palms. “I gave up on Broderick ever wanting this last summer. Remember when we stayed with Noel when her psycho ex was literally stalking her in Mistyvale?” They all nodded solemnly. “He had weeks of time with just us hanging out in Jameson’s house, keeping eyes on Noel, and he never said or did anything. When I went to broach the subject, he answered the fucking phone.” I crossed my arms in frustration.
All three of them winced, but it was Max whose expression turned into a grimace. “Right. But wasn’t that the morning after Jameson beat the daylights out of said psycho?”
Rolling my eyes, I stared skyward as I puffed air into my cheeks. “Yes,” I begrudgingly admitted.
“And wasn’t James convinced that the psycho would retaliate—which he did.”
“Yes,” I griped.
“So…Broderick wasn’t supposed to answer a call from his best friend who was likely going to prison for beating a senator’s kid half to death for assaulting his girl.” Irritated, I swiped my coffee off the table and chugged down a scalding mouthful. Taking that as answer enough, Max said, “So, maybe cut the guy a little slack, because as much as I love you, your timing was shit.”
“And then you left a few days later,” Alice pointed out. “Broderick has always been a processor. He has to have all the data first so that he can analyze it before he makes any kind of conjecture. And then needs time to sit with the conjecture before moving on to implement it because he won’t act unless he’s certain.”
“Are you guys seriously ganging up on me right now?”
“We’re not ganging up on you, Elly,” Max said with another shrug. “We’re just…presenting all the factors.”
“I can’t let myself even entertain this notion right now. The point stands. Fourteen years. It wasn’t just last summer. He’s had over a decade to say something. I can’t let myself even think he might finally do something because then I won’t focus on the grant, and that needs to be my priority.”
“Oh, yes,” Max said, thrumming his fingers together like a cartoon villain. “Now that, we can tackle. Two birds, one stone.”
