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“I’m sorry.” Crew’s teasing tone turns sympathetic.
“I’m headed to meet with Quinn now. Let her know I’m not…it’s not…you know.”
Crew whistles. “Good luck. At least you know what you’re going to say.”
I roll my eyes, and he smirks. “If you need a drink after, offer stands.”
“Thanks,” I say, and mean it. The invitation matters to me, so I feel obligated to add, “But I, uh, have plans already.” I pull in a deep breath. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Crew’s eyebrows rise as he leans forward to grab his mug. “So asking me if I regret my marriage and telling me you’re not taking Dad up on CEO was your version of small talk?”
I rub my hands on my slacks. “I guess so.”
“Okay.” He leans back and laughs. “Hit me with it.”
“I’m bringing a date to Garrett’s wedding tomorrow.”
“Okay… Not Quinn, I’m assuming?”
“Her name is Hannah Garner.”
I track every emotion that passes across Crew’s face. Surprise. Uncertainty. Concern.
“Wow. I…I, uh, didn’t realize you…” He grabs a pen off his desk, rolling it between two fingers. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”
“Likewise.”
“How’d you find out?”
“She told me, after learning my last name.”
He nods, still rolling the pen.
“I get it’s awkward, Crew. If I’d known about the past when I met her…”Married her, I add silently. I clear my throat. “I like her.”
“You like her.” His voice sounds stunned.
Crew has always been better about sharing thoughts and feelings than I have been, especially since he met Scarlett. It’s never been a strength of mine. I’ve considered it to be a weakness, actually.
But I feel like I owe him some explanation about Hannah, especially since it feels like our relationship has shifted since that night he showed up at my door drunk. I don’t want this to become another wedge between us. To erase what little progress we’ve made. And it’s nice, in an unexpected way, to finally have something—someone—meaningful to share, after years of hearing about Scarlett.
I nod. “Yeah. A lot.”
His eyebrows creep a centimeter higher. “How long have you been seeing her?”
“A few weeks.” Longer than most of my “relationships” have lasted, which Crew knows.
“Since before Dad went to you about Quinn?”
“Yes.”
“Is she factoring into you saying no to Dad?”
Rather than respond, I reach out and grab the baseball off its holder on his desk. “Remember when you got this?”
Crew shrugs. “Sort of. You and Mom were out of town.”
“She took me to the Houston Space Center because I told her I wanted to be an astronaut. Which pissed Dad off because she indulged me. So he brought you to a game while we were gone. And he did it because I’d been asking him to take me for weeks. I thought it wasmy fault, Crew, for ever saying something to Mom.”
