Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Social media platforms. Search engines. I looked everywhere I could think of … and came up empty-handed.
The only Kelly Kapowski who came up for me was a fictional character.
Another call from my eldest brother. I send him to voicemail just as fast as I did the first two times.
This thing with Kelly is bizarre. I don’t understand it. She wrote call me on the note she left behind. But how do I call her with no number?
It must be an unfortunate omission or misunderstanding. That’s all. Or maybe her name is Kellyanne or Keely, and everyone calls her Kelly.
Yeah. It has to be something like that. What else could it be?
If I were a lesser man, I might entertain the idea that the name was made up so that I couldn’t find her. If I were anyone else—Gannon, for example—I’d expect that she probably played me or used me for my dick. Guys like that get taken advantage of all the time.
But I’m me. That’s not the case. I’m a catch.
I downshift and slide into the middle lane to pass a car piddling around in the fast lane.
My phone rings yet again, and I start to decline it. But just before I do, I notice the number is Carys’s and not Gannon’s.
My stomach tenses. What if something’s wrong? What if something happened to Ivy?
Shit.
“Hey,” I say, my brows pulled together.
“Answer your fucking phone,” my brother says.
Asshole.
“I called you three times,” he says.
“And I sent you to voicemail three times. It would’ve been four had I realized this was you, too.”
He groans. “Why are you acting like a child?”
“I’m not. I’m acting like a man who doesn’t want to hear your bullshit before I’ve had lunch.” I get back into the fast lane. “Actually, I don’t want to hear your bullshit at any point today. Let me stand corrected.”
“You don’t want to hear my bullshit? Aw. Is Tate feeling like a big boy today?”
“Fuck off.”
Gannon chuckles. “Don’t be pissed at me because you got played this weekend.”
I should’ve just turned my phone off this morning.
I re-grip the steering wheel and squeeze, counting to ten before I say a bunch of shit I don’t mean. Sure, Gannon is being a dick, but he’s also messing with me because that’s what brothers do. At least we have a relationship these days where he feels comfortable enough to joke around with me.
That wasn’t always the case.
Under normal circumstances, I’d crack a joke or make fun of him, but I’m a little on edge today. I’d probably push it too far.
“I’m assuming you want something since you called a million times,” I say, zipping past a line of cars.
“I need a favor.”
“Awesome. Call someone who cares.”
“Cut the shit, Tate. Carys woke up sicker than hell, and Ivy has a fever this morning, too. I’m staying home to take care of my girls.”
Oh no. “Are they okay? Do you guys need anything?”
“I have a call into the doctor’s office now. I suspect it’s a virus, but I’m having someone come by the house to check it out. Can’t risk it.”
He takes a deep breath that raises my hackles.
Gannon doesn’t ask too much from me on a personal level. Ripley calls with favors. Renn calls with manipulations. Come over for dinner, and let’s build this coffee table while you’re here. Jason doesn’t ask for jack shit.
I give Gannon a ton of hell for “making me” travel for work. While I do hate it and want to segue into a different position, he’s not punishing me or giving me the short end of the stick. Schmoozing people is what I’m good at. It’s a space where I’ve been valuable to the family business. But the truth of the matter is that Gannon is fair and an excellent leader at Brewer Group. Under his leadership, we’ll soar heads and tails higher than our father would’ve ever managed. But he never asks for help on a personal level.
If he’s requesting my assistance as his brother—if it’s to benefit his wife and baby girl, I’m in. And the bastard knows it.
“What do you need from me?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“I need you to sit in on a meeting at the Raptors offices.”
That’s the last place I want to be. I groan.
“Look, I’m not any happier about this than you are,” he says. “But that doesn’t change the fact that the Raptors administration is in limbo once again, and someone from our family needs to be there as a show of support. As a sign of strength and continuity.”
“Is McCabe coming back?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m looking for an interim marketing director until he does, or we find someone to replace him.”
I blow out a breath, turn on my signal, and cut across two lanes of traffic to hit the exit for the hockey offices.