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“I never said you don’t, but you do seem to like to run away to other countries a lot rather than staying and building a career. The rest of us don’t have that luxury, Charlize.”
“I’ve never asked you or anyone to pay for my life. I work as much as I need to afford my travel.”
“Yeah, but what about your future? Or are you planning to rely on a man to pay for it like Mom wants you to? You need to grow up and figure your shit out.”
I glare at my brother. “You can be a real asshole, Nate.”
“No, I’m just saying what you don’t want to hear. You’re my sister and I love you, but you live with your head in the clouds sometimes.” He eyes the bar. “I’m going to get a drink.”
He stalks to the bar, and I stalk toward the door. I need some air after that.
I’m in the middle of a million thoughts over what Nate said, all angry, and all madly plotting ways to prove him wrong, when I run into Owen who’s entering the gala.
“Hey,” he says, concern filling his eyes as he takes in my angry state. “What’s happened?”
“My brother happened!” I blow out a harsh breath. “I’m so fucking angry with him right now.” I release more angry energy. “I need to go outside for a bit.”
Owen changes course and walks with me back toward the door he just came through. We’re almost through it when a committee member calls out to me, waving me over.
I wish I could ignore her so I could go outside and have a moment to calm myself down. However, I won’t because I know she needs me. I look at Owen. “You go and find everyone. They’re at a table near the front. I’ll come over once I’m done with this.”
He places his hand on my hip, slowing me down. “Take a breath.”
I know he’s trying to care for me, but I’m in no mood to be cared for. “I don’t have time to take a breath.”
I stride away from him feeling all kinds of knots inside.
My brother.
My father.
My mother.
Owen.
It’s all a tangled mess in my head.
And. I. Don’t. Have. Time. To. Untangle. It. Right. Now.
I spend the next hour before the gala finishes run off my feet with tasks from my mother. I catch sight of Owen a few times, talking and laughing with our friends. His eyes meet mine as often as mine find his. He’s concerned about me. I can see that much. And I appreciate that concern, but I have no time to go to him and ease it.
He comes to me as the room is emptying. “What can I do to help?”
Before I can answer, Mom joins us, a highly focused expression on her face. She rattles off a list of jobs for me before looking at Owen. “It’s good to see you, Owen. I’m looking forward to dinner on Sunday.”
“Likewise,” he says. “How can I help you clean up?”
She shakes her head. “No, you go home. We’ve all got our jobs. You’ll just get in the way.” Then, to me, she bosses, “Charlize, please don’t waste time. I’d like to leave before midnight.”
If I wasn’t so tired, I’d have something to say about that. I’m not wasting time. I haven’t wasted even a second tonight. But I let it go and eye Owen. “Thank you, but she’s right. You should go home.”
His eyes search mine, and I’m sure he’s trying to figure out how to help me, regardless of having been told there’s nothing he can do. Finally, he bends to brush his lips over mine. “You’ll sleep at my place tonight?”
“It’ll be late by the time we’re done here.”
“I missed you last night, Charlize.”
I missed him too. “Okay, but that should not mean you don’t try to get some sleep before I come over. You’re exhausted.”
