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“Apparently,” my brother replies, lifting his brows.
“C’mon, let’s walk,” I tell him. “I need to be on the floor in a few.”
It’s finally warm outside, if a little breezy. I’m still glad we only have to walk around the block to the building’s entrance. I don’t want to be late.
“Since when are Dustin and Hannah at the bakery so early?” George asks.
I grin. “Since I told them I needed them to step up and help me more. It’s kind of amazing, asking for things. Mostly because you get those things sometimes.”
George cuts me a look. “Is that how this whole Brooks thing happened? Because you asked him to . . . erm, hang out with you?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
He clicks his tongue and glances down at the sidewalk. “I don’t love this.”
“I don’t care.”
“I don’t want you getting hurt, Greer,” he murmurs, despite the empty sidewalk. “That’s where all this comes from, my desire to make sure you’re okay.”
My eyes blur. It’s partly the breeze, partly the soft tone my brother’s taken with me. I’m still mad as a hornet, but I appreciate his kindness nonetheless.
“I understand that.”
“Brooks—he’s my best friend, Greer. He’s basically family at this point. I think deep down, he’s a really good guy with a heart of gold. But—”
“He’s fucked up, and he fucks everything that moves. Love ’em and leave ’em. I know this story, George.”
“Why are you messing around with him, then?”
The breath catches in my throat when the glowing Atlas & Teton sign above the main doors comes into view. My gaze moves up, up the side of the glass building, all sixty-seven floors of it. Standing in front of the place, I feel tiny.
My life—the bakery—it’s all so tiny in comparison to the behemoth of this bank. Mine wouldn’t be the first business crushed by A&T.
The thought is infinitely depressing. Almost as depressing as Brooks’s dad saying I’m not good enough for his son.
But the silver lining to that dark cloud? Brooks doesn’t give a fuck what his dad thinks.
“Because he makes me feel like no one else ever has,” I say. “Because . . . George, I’m in love with him.”
My brother trips over his feet. Literally trips, cursing as he goes down like a sack of potatoes.
I gasp and immediately grab his arm, but he’s already on his ass on the sidewalk.
“Oh my God, are you okay?”
He waves me away, climbing to his feet. “Fine.”
“Don’t worry. No one important saw.”
George laughs, and the tight feeling in my chest dissipates.
“You’re really that shocked?” I ask.
He blinks, shaking his head. “No. Yes. Yes, I’m shocked about that, but also . . . wow.”
I furrow my brow. “What does that mean?”
“Have you told him? How you feel?” George opens the door for me.
I push the cart into the building, air conditioning blasting my bangs out of my face. “Not yet.”
“Has he said anything to you?”
“About what?”
George shakes his head again. “Nothing. Just . . . are you being honest with me? That y’all only started, um, hanging out recently?”
“Of course I am.” My sneakers squeak on the marble floor. The vast lobby is empty, save for Pete, the security guard. He’s in a shiny black jacket behind a nearby desk. He holds up a hand in greeting; George and I wave to him at the same time.
“Hey, Pete.”
“Porgy! Greer! Y’all behaving?”
My brother hooks a thumb in my direction. “She’s the one you need to watch out for.”
“Sorry my brother’s being such a turd.” I hand Pete a small cardboard box filled with his usual blueberry muffin. “Have a good one, Pete.”
“Thank you kindly, Greer. Enjoy your morning.”
Pete presses a button and the little glass doors leading to the elevators glide open with a small whoosh.
“I’m worried Brooks can’t give you what you need.” George hits the button. “I’m only trying to protect you.”
I turn and face him, hands on my hips. “I don’t need you to protect me. I need you to trust me. I’m not your kid sister anymore. I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants and how she deserves to be treated. I need you to hear me, George. I make good choices. Always have. Brooks is a good choice, because he does give me what I need. He gives me that and then some.”
My brother’s expression softens as he sighs, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “What if it blows up, though? You realize how awful that would be for everyone?”
“I do. I can’t promise we won’t break up, and things won’t be awful for all three of us. But I can promise I’ll always try to do the right thing.”
“The right thing,” George says, meeting my eyes.
“My whole life, I’ve worked my ass off to make sure I don’t get in the way or let anyone down.” I take a step closer and lower my voice. “Including you. Breaking up with Brooks right now—I’d be letting myself down. And I’m done doing that. You can do the right thing too and support my decision. Our decision, mine and Brooks’s.”
