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“I can always do it somewhere else,” Warner said. “At the end of the day, it’s just a job.”
Any other time, Beau might’ve scoffed at that—just a job? What else was there? But since Lola had disappeared, what he’d missed most was having someone to look forward to all day. He’d promised to make her a priority, but then he’d look up from his computer at some point to see afternoon had become evening, and he still hadn’t finished. That was a mistake he was paying for dearly in the tender of regret. Maybe if he’d chosen her over work, like Warner was with Brigitte, Lola would’ve found a reason to stay.
Beau tuned out his thoughts and focused on Brigitte, who was relaying her session to them.
“At first, it wasn’t too bad, mostly discussing what’ll happen over the course of my therapy. Then she asked about the accident, and…” She stepped away from Warner to take Beau’s hands. “And we talked about you. Me and you.”
Beau wasn’t looking forward to hearing whatever she said next, but he remained still despite his instinct to flee.
She must’ve noticed, because she held his hands more tightly. “Do you need to hear this from me? The doctor says I should tell you.” She looked into his eyes. “You’re a good brother. If I ever made you think otherwise, I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “I just want to see you healthy and happy.”
“I’m not your responsibility. You don’t have to take care of me.”
Brigitte, on her own two feet, without him to support her? He couldn’t picture it. “It’s the nature of our relationship.”
“Sometimes it’s okay to let me fail or fall on my face. All I ask is that you’re there to help me off the ground.”
Beau had his complaints about Brigitte, and sometimes she made his life hard. But without her, who would he be? He didn’t want to know, and he’d never wanted to be rid of her. Not completely, anyway. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t mean your money, Beau. Sometimes I just need you to be there when I call. That’s the relationship I want us to have.”
Beau’s hands were clammy. He’d bent over backward his whole life to make sure Brigitte and his mom were comfortably set up, never without food, shelter or, of course, the finer things in life. “I thought we already had that.”
“We don’t. I’ve spent the last twenty years just trying to get your attention, but nobody has your attention like your money.”
Lola had said the same thing in different words. With a sharp pain in his chest, Beau briefly wondered if this on top of everything else was finally just going to kill him.
“Don’t be upset,” Brigitte said. “I know it’s how you show affection. But it wasn’t enough for Lola, and it’s not enough for me anymore. I need a different kind of support from you now.”
“So, what—I’m the bad guy all the time? For everyone?”
“No. Since we were together when our parents died, I thought we were connected on some supernatural level. But maybe that’s a load of shit—at least, that’s what the doctor seems to think. I’ve been a burden. You’re not responsible for me—or your mom, for that matter. You’re not the man of the house. We can’t keep pulling you in different directions.”
“I want to take care of both of you, but you guys make it difficult to do a good job.”
“So don’t do it anymore.” She cleared her throat. “Take care of Lola instead.”
Beau wanted his hands back, but Brigitte wouldn’t let them go. “It’s over,” he said, subject closed, nothing else to say.
Brigitte looked down. “Ten years ago, you came home a complete mess because a stripper had turned down the money it’d taken you your whole life to earn. Remember that night?”
It was a rhetorical question. Of course Beau remembered every nuance of the hour he’d spent with Lola, the way his heart had stabbed with every footstep he’d taken on his way out of the club. “What about it?”
“Tell me what happened.”
“You already know the story—inside and out.”
“Just tell me.”
Beau sighed, glancing back at Warner. He’d also heard the story, so there wasn’t one reason to tell it. “I gave up a lot for my first website, so when it sold for millions, it was surreal. The night I signed the papers, I was on a high. After years of having no social life, no women, I wanted someone that night. A beautiful girl to celebrate with. I walked into that strip club, and—” Beau paused, remembering how Lola had glistened and glittered from her shiny, black hair to her diamond bikini. “And there was no more beautiful woman than her. But she wouldn’t have me, because she knew what she was worth. I tried to buy her for a night, but she didn’t have a price.”
Brigitte stared up at him, silent until Beau got uncomfortable. “What?” he asked.
With a disbelieving shake of her head, she said, “I’ve just never heard you tell it that way. It was always about what she’d done to you, or the pain she’d caused. You love her.”
Beau took his hands away finally, wiping them on his slacks. “Not much I can do about it either way.”
“What happened when you went to find her?”
“Nothing. Not a fucking thing.” He shrugged. “By saying nothing, she’s made herself clear.”
“You’re giving up?” She rushed the words out, bouncing once on the balls of her feet. She would have him all to herself again. “But you never give up on anything worth saving.”
It took Beau a moment to register that she wasn’t rooting against Lola. He cocked his head, glancing at Warner, whose lips were pressed together with a suppressed smile. “I’m not giving up. I figured it was time I start respecting her decision. Anyway, I wouldn’t know where to find her.”
Brigitte rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious to everyone but Beau. “Stop acting like her opponent,” she said, “and start thinking like her partner. What is she looking for? Where is she going to find it?”
Beau swallowed, looking away. Respect wasn’t the only reason he had to let her go. Her name grated when he heard it aloud. He couldn’t remember word for word the last thing she’d said to him. He would never tease her about seeing the ball of twine in person, as he hoped she had.
