“What the fuck,” I say, eyes locked on Graham as I walk into the private room. It’s quieter in here, above the rest of the party, and I’m grateful for that, though the cameras that are most definitely in here would work against me in case I actuallykillGraham Hawthorne.
“June,” Graham says, stepping over to me, an entertained look on his face. I want to slap it away.
“What thefuck,Graham?” I repeat, and his face goes from humorous and sweet to confused in an instant.
“What’s going on?” Instinctively know it’s my brother speaking, but I don’t break eye contact with Graham.
“June’s about to rip Graham a new asshole,” Claire explains.
“She found out, didn’t she?” Decker asks, and all eyes turn to him, including mine. “About Graham setting things up for her?”
His words settle, and I realize in a heartbeat it’s not just the job. Tiny moments I thought were pure, unadulterated luck settle into place, confirmed only when Graham’s face goes pale. I don’t know how to feel right now, so I focus on an easier target.
“Youknew?” I ask, my eyes wide.
Deck lifts his hands and shakes his head as if realizing his error. “I didn’t know shit,” he says, lifting his hands. “Not until like, ten minutes ago.”
“Sure, convenient,” I say with a roll of my eyes, returning my focus to Graham, but I’m distracted once more in a moment.
“I knew,” Miles says, a grin on his lips.
“Youknew?” Claire says, aghast. “And you didn’t tell me?”
He gives her a deadpan look, then reaches over and pulls her into his side.
“Love you, but you have the biggest mouth on this planet, Claire. Of course I wouldn’t tell you.”
Her jaw goes tight, but she doesn’t argue because we all know he has a good point.
“How did you know?” I ask, and his eyes go wide. I groan, covering my face. “My car. It was my car, wasn’t it? Iknewthat you were undercharging. I can’t believe you did that, Graham!” He opens his mouth to argue or defend or apologize, I’m not sure, but Grant speaks then.
“Cut him some slack, June; he was trying to help you out. It’s not his fault that you’re the most stubborn person on this planet.” I snap my head to him, my anger suddenly having a new target. I feel untethered, confused, and unsure of where to focus my irritation. Or, a tiny part inside of me whispers, if that irritation is even valid at all.
“You’re not supposed to be on his side! You’re supposed to be onmyside!” I say, stomping my foot and pointing to myself, but my brother just rolls his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.
“June, I am on your side,” he says, looking a bit exasperated. I point to Graham.
“No, you’re not, you’re not kicking his ass,” I argue.
Graham’s eyes widen, and I get a small amount of joy, seeing his discomfort, even if I don’tactuallythink I want Grant to get into a fight with him.
“For what?” Grant argues. “For making you happier than you have been in a long time? For giving you a job, something steady while you figure out what you want to do with your life? For making everything work out for you so you could live in a la-la-land of manifesting and woo-woo shit?” I blink at him, but he keeps going. “Everyone knew you were miserable. Getting the chance to safely do what you were made to do, to start your business and pursue art, is a gift, June, and you wouldn’t have done it without him working in the background.”
“You think I should pursue art?” I ask, confused. I came in here on a mission, anger fueled by liquor and the feeling like I was the last to know something about my life, but now that it’sfading away, a glowing ember is all that’s left. And that ember’s warmth isn’t angry at all. It’s soft and sweet and hopeful.
“You gave me shit about it,” I murmur.
Grant rolls his eyes and sighs.
“One of us has to be rational, June, and it’s never been you.” Without meaning to, I smile, just a bit, though a new wave of confusion filters in, my world set on its side once more with the understanding that Grant might not actually be as pessimistic about my art career as I’ve always assumed. I don’t have time to dwell on that, though, because he’s speaking again. “But none of that is relevant right now. I’m the first one to be skeptical of anyone who is wronging you, but I’m failing to see how trying to make things easier on you and?—"
“He made me think I was lucky!” I say, throwing my hands into the air. “He let me think everything worked out for me.”
“And that made you brave enough to try things you’d been too scared to do before,” he countered. My mouth closes, unable to think of an argument.
“He’s got a good point, June,” Claire says, echoing my thoughts. When my attention shifts to her, she looks a bit apologetic, lifting a shoulder. “I mean, was it the best move? Not sure. But would you really have taken the whole lucky girl summer thing as seriously as you did if not?” My mouth purses, and I take in a deep breath, seeing her rationale.
“She’s got a great point. You should definitely listen to Claire more,” Graham says, making Claire smile.
