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)
“I don’t need this headache,” Gannon groans. “Help me out. Do you have any suggestions? We can’t just hire someone off the street, and I exhausted my contact list when I hired McCabe. Ripley gave me one name. Renn had nothing. Jason is useless in sports, and Bianca sent a shrugging emoji when I asked her.”
“Oh, so I’m your last call?”
“Don’t take it personally.”
“I take everything personally. How could it not be personal? Think about it—if you call me first or last, it’s a silent display of where I rank in your mind. Did you think of me first, or Jason? That shows how much faith you have in me.”
“Stop with the baby of the family bullshit and help me.”
I sigh for his benefit. “I wouldn’t be so mean to someone I needed—especially if they were my last resort—but whatever.”
Gannon doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t make a sound. Somehow, his irritated silence is louder than anything.
“Fine,” I say. “I don’t happen to have any names handy, but let me talk to some people at the event tomorrow night and see what shakes out.”
“Do you know what I really need? I need a brother who likes hockey.”
“What? No. No, no, no. Don’t even put that into the universe, asshole. With our dad, we could have a brother come out of the woodwork at any point. And, with our luck, he’d be a chip off the old block.”
A knock comes from the hallway.
“Hang on a second,” I say.
I grab several bills from my wallet. Then I pull open the door and find an older man in a suit and tie holding a single long-stemmed red rose.
“Good evening, sir,” he says, handing me the flower.
“Good evening.” I slip the cash into his palm. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate you.”
“Anytime, sir. Thank you. Have a wonderful evening.”
That’s the plan.
He flashes me a smile and then scoots toward the elevator.
I let the door swing shut behind me.
The energy I’ve been fighting to keep under control all afternoon and evening surges forward, filling every cell in my body. Kelly’s grin tugs at my heart. The curve of her shoulder as it gently slopes to her neck knots my stomach. The way she turned me down? It fucks with me.
Hard.
“Who was that?” Gannon asks.
“I had something brought to my room,” I say, unable to fight the smile slipping across my lips.
“Where are you this weekend, anyway?”
I place the flower on the desk, then head into the bedroom.
“That’s rude,” I say.
“What? Why is that rude?”
“You order me to these random places to do your bidding against my will, then you act like it’s so unimportant that you don’t even need to remember where you sent me.” I shake my head. “If it’s not important, for the love of God, Gannon—let me stop traveling so damn much.”
He groans. “Not this again, Tate. I don’t have time to listen to you whine right now.”
Fucker.
“You’re lucky because I don’t have time to whine right now,” I say, standing in the middle of the bedroom. What time should I head downstairs? “Although, make no mistake, I will complain to everyone who will listen once I’m back in the office on Monday. Because it’s complete bullshit that our family-owned airline couldn’t find a plane to take me on family business.”
“Take that up with Jason. I don’t have shit to do with Brewer Air.”
“I will. But, for now, I have other, more important—more interesting—things on my plate.”
Gannon groans. Again. “Do I even want to know?”
“I’m pretty sure I met my wife today.”
Silence.
“Gannon?” I ask, wondering if the call was dropped or if he finally got fed up with me and hung up.
“I’m sorry. Did you say you met your wife?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but crazier things have happened. I mean, it took a matcha latte to bring you and Carys together. But—”
“Tate?”
“Yeah?”
“Get to the point.”
I smile as her name coalesces on my tongue. “Her name is Kelly Kapowski.”
Gannon’s laugh is loud, forcing me to pull the phone from my face.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“Her name is Kelly Kapowski?”
“Yeah …”
“Tate.” Gannon does something I’ve never heard him do. He cackles. “Tate, really?”
My brows pull together. “What?”
The humor is still thick in his voice. “Let me get this straight. You met Kelly Kapowski, and now you think you’ll marry her? Have you been drinking?”
His amusement is annoying, but I don’t dwell on it. As my eldest brother, he’s made it his mission in life to either flat-out ignore me or to heckle me in the most frustrating way possible. He’s barely more tolerable now that he’s married to my best friend.
“No, I haven’t been drinking,” I say, slipping off my shoes. “We met on the plane and connected. We had a moment. I can’t explain it.”
“I bet you did.”
“You know what? I don’t like your tone.”