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"Yeah, that’s what I thought," he called after me, clearly smug, as he believed he’d won this round. I didn’t even respond. I had nothing to say to him.
There was only one person I wanted to speak to right now, and it wasn’t my brother.
It was Scott.
Before I could stop myself, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. This was stupid, I was sure of it, but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to hear his voice. I needed to hear that kindness in it, the promise that I wasn’t completely inventing everything I had imagined in there. He was the man I thought he was, right? He could be, anyway, even if he might not have been now...
He answered after a couple of rings, and as soon as I heard him greet me, my heart flipped in my chest. I should have been done with this, done with him, but the tension between us the night before had burned itself into my memory, into my body, and I wouldn’t be able to escape it until I saw him again.
"Thea?"
"Scott, I need to see you," I told him. "Can I come over?"
"Of course," he replied at once, as though surprised I even needed to ask. "There’s a bar near mine, Casper’s - let’s meet there."
"Okay, sure," I replied. I could use a drink. It was barely past midday, but the stress from that conversation with my brother had made it hard to think straight.
"See you soon," he replied. He didn’t even question why I wanted to see him. He just accepted it. I wasn’t sure there would have been anyone else in my life who would have done that. Maybe it’s what I needed right now, somebody to make sure I was okay, even when it felt like things were spinning out of control.
I said my goodbyes and went outside to hail a cab. I was still a little shaky, but knowing I would see Scott soon was making it all a little easier to handle.
Even if I had no idea what we were going to talk about or what we were going to do, being around him made everything simpler for me.
Chapter Fourteen Scott
As soon as I saw her walk through the door of the bar, I could tell she wasn’t exactly happy.
She looked as though she had been crying on the drive over here, her eyes slightly red and puffy, and her hair was a mess like she had been running her hands through it non-stop. I rose to my feet, lifting a hand to guide her over to me, and she practically collapsed into the booth next to me.
"You okay?" I asked her.
"I need a drink," she replied with a faint smile. "Something strong."
I went to the bar to get her what she requested and looked back over my shoulder to check on her as I waited for it to be prepared. It was clear she wasn’t doing well, and I hated seeing her like this, hated seeing her so shaken up. I didn’t know what had happened, but I would bet it had something to do with her brother and the crazy confrontation he had pulled on me the night before.
I hadn’t expected to hear from her again so soon. Honestly, I had thought she would be done with me after her brother had made a scene the way he had. I wasn’t worth all that trouble, was I? But here she was, ready and waiting for me again, ready to talk, and I wanted to hear what she had to say.
I made my way back to the table with a couple of whiskeys for us and pushed the glass across the table to her. She took a sip and pulled a face.
"I always forget how strong this stuff is," she muttered. "Tastes like lighter fluid."
"That’s the most expensive whiskey in the city," I remarked, half-smiling. "If you don’t like that, you’re not going to like any of it."
She wrapped her hands around the glass and stared down into the amber liquid for a moment, breathing heavily. She looked like she wanted to cry again, but she didn’t. Instead, she lifted her gaze up to meet mine and asked me the last question I ever expected to come out of her mouth.
"Do you think about getting out?”
I frowned at her, confused.
"Getting out? Of what?”
"Of this business," she replied. "The one you’re in. The one your father made for you. You ever think about doing something else instead?”
I leaned back in my seat, the question circling around my mind. I wasn’t sure what she expected me to say. She had danced around this question before, but now she was just coming right out with it.
I wasn’t sure what to tell her. Before I’d met her, it had never been something that I’d considered much. Why would I? My father had never given me much of a chance to consider it one way or another. I’d just been thrown right into the depths of it the first chance he’d gotten. I was always going to do this job, always going to jump into it feet-first, and I wasn’t going to fail him on that front.
And yet...when I looked at her, it was as though something else opened up in front of me. Something I had never imagined before. Like I could glimpse another life, another reality that I might have been able to live if I had just played my cards right.
