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Brody frowns. “Then why are you here in Ironwood helping him out?”
I let out a tired breath. “He’s dying, Brody. I don’t know exactly how long I’ll stay here, but I do know that I’d rather stay too long and regret it than leave him here to die and regretthat. You know?”
He scoops a giant forkful of eggs into his mouth and chews, pensive.
“My dad’s become a fucking falling-down drunk,” he says. “Hasn’t worked in years. He spends his days pickling himself. I bring him over groceries, otherwise his stomach would never see solid food.”
“We’re both losing our dads, then,” I observe. “Just in slightly different ways.”
For a few minutes, the only sound is the clink of silverware on plates and our chewing. We’re both lost in our thoughts. Brody is the one to finally break the silence.
“I ran into Thorpe down at the shop today,” he says casually.
I instantly freeze, the fork halfway to my mouth.
“Oh?” I ask.
“Remember I told you he works at the club’s garage?”
“Uh-huh,” I say carefully, setting the fork down.
“He mentioned running into you in town. He said you were with some guy in an expensive suit.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I exhale. “That was Joshua. He works for my dad. He’s showing me the ropes at the company.”
Brody gives me a sideways look. “That all he’s showing you?”
I pause, letting his words sink in. “Yes. Why?”
“Just wondering. Thorpe said you two looked kinda friendly.”
“Are you… jealous?’
“Fuck no,” he says brusquely. “Just curious.”
I hide a smile.
“So, you think you’ll keep working for your dad’s company after…” he trails off.
“After he dies?” The word sticks in my throat.
“Yeah. You andJoshuagonna run the company together?”
“Oh my god, Brody, youarejealous!”
“Not jealous. Just never thought you were the corporate type.”
“Why?” I challenge. “You think I’m not smart enough?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He blows out a breath, rubs a hand over his beard. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant. You were always smart as hell, Aurora. I just don’t see you as a suit.”
“Well, neither do I. But maybe it’s time I at least try to be. Because so far, my adult accomplishments have amounted to exactly zero.”
“That’s not because you’re not smart,” he retorts. “If anything, maybe it’s because you’retoointelligent. Hell, you could be a writer, Aurora. It’s always been your dream.”
“Right.” I roll my eyes. “Come on, Brody. Just because I read a lot doesn’t mean I’m author material.”
“Why not? I mean it. You don’t need a degree for that, right? Plenty of people have become authors without a piece of paper saying they’re good enough. You’ve read more books than probably ninety percent of people out there. You know books. You’ve got the chops for it. I know you do.”
