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MIKE WAS NOT in a good mood. All day long, every little thing irritated him. The last straw was being out of his favorite coffee pod late that afternoon when he visited the MV Cyber Solutions’ kitchenette.
“Diane!” He called for his sister, who was also his office manager. She must have heard something unusual in his tone because she came down the hall at almost a trot.
“What’s wrong?” Her face wore the half-worried, half-frightened frown that he hated, and that irritated him, too.
He motioned toward the opened pod drawer. “There’s no dark roast.”
He was out of line. He knew he was out of line. And he knew he was really going to wish he hadn’t been out of line as she looked from him to the drawer with a completely neutral expression.
“You drank it all,” she said.
He’d had help. He wasn’t the only one in the firm who liked strong coffee.
“Seriously, Mike, there were six pods in there this morning. And Shaun and Blain have been out all day. You three are the only ones who drink the dark roast.”
Stepping on the foot handle of the trash can, she looked inside. “All six empty pods are right here,” she said. “And this bag is changed every night.”
By the janitorial service that tended to the entire building.
He knew she wouldn’t be saying so if she didn’t know for sure. Diane was right pretty much any time she opened her mouth.
He was tempted to argue with her anyway. He was oldest.
And the boss.
“I need coffee,” he said instead.
“So...maybe you should drive down to the coffee shop and have some. The trip out might do you some good. And maybe, before you come back, you can find the apology that you owe me for the tone of voice you’re using.”
She’d never speak to him like that if he wasn’t being an asshole.
It happened about once every decade or so.
He nodded but just stood there, chin jutting.
“You want to talk about it?”
The look in her eyes—brown like his—warmed considerably. “Is it Willie?” The softness in her tone belied the defensive set of her chin and shoulders.
Diane wasn’t shy about letting Mike know that she thought he spent far too much time taking responsibility for their baby brother. She thought Mike coddled the kid too much and that someone had to let Willie pay for his mistakes so he’d learn from them.
She didn’t know the kid like he did. Wasn’t privy to his inner thoughts. Or his apologies.
She also didn’t know how many Saturdays Willie spent doing penance—the type of punishment chosen by Mike—for whatever crime he’d committed. That was between him and Willie. When the others got involved, as well meaning as they might be, Willie’s defenses went up and all hell broke loose.
“Willie’s fine,” he said now. “He aced his biology test.”
“Mom says he was suspended for cheating and that you got things straightened out. Why you don’t let him pay the price for—”
“He didn’t cheat.”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, everyone’s relieved that he’s back in school. Lord knows we’re all holding our breath for the next two months to go smoothly and praying that he actually graduates, but...”
“He didn’t cheat.”
His sister studied him. “He really didn’t?”
