Page 9 of Feel It in the Air

3

GUS

One YearLater

Please be chicken ’n dressing…pleasebe chicken ’n dressing…

I repeat my silent prayer over and over, rushing down the hall toward the executive conference room, my stomach threatening to stage a coup if my legs don’t pick up the pace. There’s a warm, familiar smell filling the hall, but it’s one that I can’t quite place to know if my craving for the Southern specialty is going to be satisfied or not. I know that what is served will be delicious. Miss Harriett—who has been in charge of the Hayes Industries kitchens for most of my lifetime—has never let us down. But today…today I could really use the comfort food.

Throwing open the heavy double doors that lead to the large room, I pause just inside the entrance, letting my eyes scour over the catering table to my right, inventorying the selection. Salad, homemade yeast rolls, garlic bread, and baked ziti. Plus mini strawberry cheesecakes for dessert. Oh, this woman spoils us. My tummy gurgles in delight as the smell hits me head-on, the garlic filling my nostrils, making my mouth water. It might not be the chicken ’n dressing I had been hoping for, but it’s going to hit the spot.

“It’s a little…tight, that’s all,” Milo says. My ears perk up as I fill my plate, ready to eavesdrop on whatever it is that he’s trying so graciously to explain. “We’re figuring it all out.”

“You’re an idiot if you really think you're going to make that work. You can’t just move Brenna into the bachelor pad and think it’s all going to work itself out,” Willa argues back.

As much as I hate to take our sister’s side, she’s right.

After spending the summer secretly hooking up with Brenna, his best friend and business partner’s baby sister, Milo decided that moving her into the bachelor pad he and Brandt shared above Pour Decisions, the bar on-site at their brewery, was a good idea. Admittedly, it took me awhile to get used to the idea of him and Brenna together, but seeing how happy she makes him, I can’t deny that they’re good together. I can, however, disagree with the idea of all three of them living in a loft-style apartment over a bar.

I throw a look toward Ewan, the youngest of my brothers, who is quietly sitting to Willa’s right, pretending not to listen. At any given moment, it’s easy to forget that he’s even in the room, with the rest of us chiming in, throwing around ideas, insults, or whatever the moment calls for. Until all of a sudden he speaks, throwing out the most perfectly timed comment. As the introvert of the family, Ewan has the game down pat. We all know it too, but we let him have it. It’s who he is.

He returns my look, our silent conversation going unnoticed by the two still armpit deep in their own discussion.

“It’s been two weeks,” I toss out, sitting in my usual seat to Willa’s left. “You mean to tell me things are already uncomfortable?”

Milo shrugs, dismissing my question. That's all the answer I need.

“Only when Brandt walks in on them,” Willa supplies for him.

“Again?” Hux asks, walking into the room. “Shower again? Dude, invest in a better lock on that bathroom door.”

“Or keep it in your bedroom?” Willa snarks. “No one likes shower sex that much.”

“Speak for yourself,” Milo retorts, waggling his eyebrows.

I let my fork drop, the clank of it against the table fading into the growing noise as Anton and Jace pile into the room and start to fill their plates.

“I’m eating…”

Milo lifts one shoulder casually, letting me know he gives zero shits that he potentially ruined my appetite.

“For the amount of times you’re not in your bedroom, you have no room to talk,” Ewan says. As I said, right on time.

Willa whips around, her whole body forcefully spinning the chair, landing Ewan with the definition of if looks could kill. He’s not the slightest bit fazed by her.

“You live above me. And you’re not quiet, remember?”

“Burn…” Anton mutters, parking himself at the other end of the table.

I roll my eyes, letting the conversation devolve around me. I have too much on my mind right now to join in. Don’t get me wrong, I love Munch—short for Monday Lunch—the weekly lunch meeting where the heads of each department get together to update each other on what is going on, talk strategy, and brainstorm if needed. And by heads of each department, I mean my siblings and me.

Enjoying this time together doesn’t negate that I have a list as long as my arm of things to do today and a clock that seems to be ticking faster and faster. Not to mention a father—who is also coincidentally CEO and in charge of this meeting—who is late. A man who for all his brilliance moves on his own schedule and timeline. Bless him.

“Where’s Auggie?” I ask, wondering out loud if anyone has seen the old man. Well, not old. Older. Need to be careful with my words. He could still kick my ass if he wanted to. Probably would too, without thinking about it.

“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Jace asks, mouth still full of ziti. Sometimes, you’d think he was raised in a barn. Good thing our mama isn’t here to see that.

“No one. We’ve just got a lot to cover.”