More Than Want You
Page 25
We’ve had this argument before. “It’s not about Tiffanii.” Although when he moved her in with him, it sucked knowing my brother was shacking up with the woman I’d thought I might marry someday. In retrospect, it didn’t actually hurt. “What burned me was the way he handled everything.”
“If it helps, I think he regrets it.”
On the tip of my tongue sits my usual acerbic answer: Isn’t it too late for that now? I hold the words in. The sentiment is old, and I’m tired of feeling it. Besides, she knows my outlook on this. “If that’s true, he could start by apologizing.”
“You could help him along by not trying to dangle a woman in his face designed solely to trip him up. You know he gets terribly distracted.”
I do. His business almost didn’t make it the first four months because he was too wrapped up in Tiffanii to pay attention to much else. I heard a rumor that he’d planned a surprise getaway for two to Bora Bora. When he came home to pack a suitcase, he instead found some other guy packing his cock into Tiff’s pussy.
Can’t say I was surprised… She cheated on me, too. It’s why we broke up.
“He’s getting what he deserves,” I argue.
“Maxon, stop. I know he hurt you.”
So fucking much. I really still don’t know how to reconcile the kid brother who did everything with me with the man who did his utmost to take everything from me.
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe you hurt him, too?”
“Bullshit.”
“Ugh, you and Griff both have way too much fight and pride for your own good.” Harlow sighs on the other end of the line. “You know, I’ve never met this Keeley woman, but maybe she’s onto something. If one of her conditions to this hare-brained scheme is for you to sit down with Griff for an hour and just talk, I can get behind that. I’ll even spy on him for you if it helps to end this.”
“Excellent.” I smile.
“That remains to be seen. I just hope I don’t regret my decision.”
Somewhere in the back of my head, I wonder if both Keeley and Harlow are right. Will my plan do anything more than ratchet up this ugly family feud?
Who cares? a voice in my head asks. It’s unlikely we’re going to be pals again tomorrow. Or ever.
“You won’t.” I give her an empty assurance because I know it could become a shit storm. But I have to try. “So what’s the Mom and Dad drama?”
I’m not sure I actually want to know. It’s always horrendous. Frankly, I wonder how they ever got along enough to conceive three children. They only stay married now because it would cost Dad too much money to divorce Mom. She puts up with his crap because she’s never worked outside the home a day in her life and wouldn’t know how to start now. So they have a sick, co-dependent union. Mom shakes him down to “maintain her lifestyle,” and Dad puts up with it because he can’t afford to do anything else. Besides, she’s the grand hostess for glitzy community events that make her giddy and the stuffy business parties that further his career.
“I don’t know if they’re going to make it out of this, Maxon. Something’s up. Something more serious.”
I frown. “If they’re not speaking, that’s nothing new.”
“Of course it’s not,” Harlow agrees. “This is more than the normal resentment, silence, or accusations and yelling. This is ugly. It’s…cold.”
Harlow isn’t the sort of woman to be dramatic. Mom and Dad took care of all that for us kids, so we had to stay pretty grounded or lose our minds. “You think they might actually split up for good this time?”
“I think it’s really possible.”
Her words sink in. Not that they’ve been married in spirit for at least the last two decades, but the thought of them being legally divorced is chilling in a way I don’t understand. “See if you can find out what’s going on and keep me posted, okay?”
“Sure. Britta and Jamie doing good?”
“Yeah.” I think. I haven’t actually seen the little guy in a while. Other than Harlow, they’re really the only family I have left. I should make time for them. I’ll need them when I’m old and gray, I guess. And I care. That’s pretty rare for me.
“She still hasn’t changed her mind about making Griff live up to his responsibilities with Jamie?”
“No.” And she’s not likely to.
When Griff didn’t acknowledge Britta’s pregnancy, we both figured he just didn’t care. She pleaded with Harlow, who still talks to the asswipe, to leave it alone. If Griff didn’t want his own son, she didn’t want anyone trying to make him give a shit. My sister didn’t love it but she agreed to respect Britta’s choice, mostly because she was pissed at Griff, too. And we all agreed that Jamie needed to be kept a secret from my parents. My mother would have turned that into a custody battle worthy of a made-for-TV movie. We know all too well how my father would treat the boy.
“He’s going on three…”
I get the emotional argument for Jamie meeting his father. I do. I would have loved a father who gave a damn about something besides business. “I think Jamie is better off. Britta gives him unconditional love.”
Barclay Reed never gave that to his sons. Neither of his apples have fallen far from the tree, either. I worry Griff would only use his son to manipulate Britta, and because she would move heaven and earth to protect her child, she’d let Griff run all over her. Keeley would probably find my low opinion of him shocking, but what good does lying to myself do?
“I know she does,” Harlow agrees. “And she’s been through a lot, but I think Griff has changed. He’s… I don’t know. Less angry.”
Or better at hiding his problems. “Maybe you caught him in a good mood. Griff is never going to change. I don’t think he wants to.”
“Do you?” she asks softly.
I grit my teeth in irritation. “Haven’t you done enough probing, Freud? Why don’t you bug your fiancé for a while?”
“He’s in London on business, so I decided to call you instead. Aren’t you lucky?”
I have to smile. “Honestly?”
“No,” she teases back. “Keep your opinion to yourself. I should get back to studying. Big exams coming up. Tell me when Keeley is ready to go in. I’ll call Griff, see if I can figure out where he’s at mentally and what his schedule is like. After they’ve officially met, I’ll be nosy, find out what he thinks of her, then report back.”
“If it helps, I think he regrets it.”
On the tip of my tongue sits my usual acerbic answer: Isn’t it too late for that now? I hold the words in. The sentiment is old, and I’m tired of feeling it. Besides, she knows my outlook on this. “If that’s true, he could start by apologizing.”
“You could help him along by not trying to dangle a woman in his face designed solely to trip him up. You know he gets terribly distracted.”
I do. His business almost didn’t make it the first four months because he was too wrapped up in Tiffanii to pay attention to much else. I heard a rumor that he’d planned a surprise getaway for two to Bora Bora. When he came home to pack a suitcase, he instead found some other guy packing his cock into Tiff’s pussy.
Can’t say I was surprised… She cheated on me, too. It’s why we broke up.
“He’s getting what he deserves,” I argue.
“Maxon, stop. I know he hurt you.”
So fucking much. I really still don’t know how to reconcile the kid brother who did everything with me with the man who did his utmost to take everything from me.
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe you hurt him, too?”
“Bullshit.”
“Ugh, you and Griff both have way too much fight and pride for your own good.” Harlow sighs on the other end of the line. “You know, I’ve never met this Keeley woman, but maybe she’s onto something. If one of her conditions to this hare-brained scheme is for you to sit down with Griff for an hour and just talk, I can get behind that. I’ll even spy on him for you if it helps to end this.”
“Excellent.” I smile.
“That remains to be seen. I just hope I don’t regret my decision.”
Somewhere in the back of my head, I wonder if both Keeley and Harlow are right. Will my plan do anything more than ratchet up this ugly family feud?
Who cares? a voice in my head asks. It’s unlikely we’re going to be pals again tomorrow. Or ever.
“You won’t.” I give her an empty assurance because I know it could become a shit storm. But I have to try. “So what’s the Mom and Dad drama?”
I’m not sure I actually want to know. It’s always horrendous. Frankly, I wonder how they ever got along enough to conceive three children. They only stay married now because it would cost Dad too much money to divorce Mom. She puts up with his crap because she’s never worked outside the home a day in her life and wouldn’t know how to start now. So they have a sick, co-dependent union. Mom shakes him down to “maintain her lifestyle,” and Dad puts up with it because he can’t afford to do anything else. Besides, she’s the grand hostess for glitzy community events that make her giddy and the stuffy business parties that further his career.
“I don’t know if they’re going to make it out of this, Maxon. Something’s up. Something more serious.”
I frown. “If they’re not speaking, that’s nothing new.”
“Of course it’s not,” Harlow agrees. “This is more than the normal resentment, silence, or accusations and yelling. This is ugly. It’s…cold.”
Harlow isn’t the sort of woman to be dramatic. Mom and Dad took care of all that for us kids, so we had to stay pretty grounded or lose our minds. “You think they might actually split up for good this time?”
“I think it’s really possible.”
Her words sink in. Not that they’ve been married in spirit for at least the last two decades, but the thought of them being legally divorced is chilling in a way I don’t understand. “See if you can find out what’s going on and keep me posted, okay?”
“Sure. Britta and Jamie doing good?”
“Yeah.” I think. I haven’t actually seen the little guy in a while. Other than Harlow, they’re really the only family I have left. I should make time for them. I’ll need them when I’m old and gray, I guess. And I care. That’s pretty rare for me.
“She still hasn’t changed her mind about making Griff live up to his responsibilities with Jamie?”
“No.” And she’s not likely to.
When Griff didn’t acknowledge Britta’s pregnancy, we both figured he just didn’t care. She pleaded with Harlow, who still talks to the asswipe, to leave it alone. If Griff didn’t want his own son, she didn’t want anyone trying to make him give a shit. My sister didn’t love it but she agreed to respect Britta’s choice, mostly because she was pissed at Griff, too. And we all agreed that Jamie needed to be kept a secret from my parents. My mother would have turned that into a custody battle worthy of a made-for-TV movie. We know all too well how my father would treat the boy.
“He’s going on three…”
I get the emotional argument for Jamie meeting his father. I do. I would have loved a father who gave a damn about something besides business. “I think Jamie is better off. Britta gives him unconditional love.”
Barclay Reed never gave that to his sons. Neither of his apples have fallen far from the tree, either. I worry Griff would only use his son to manipulate Britta, and because she would move heaven and earth to protect her child, she’d let Griff run all over her. Keeley would probably find my low opinion of him shocking, but what good does lying to myself do?
“I know she does,” Harlow agrees. “And she’s been through a lot, but I think Griff has changed. He’s… I don’t know. Less angry.”
Or better at hiding his problems. “Maybe you caught him in a good mood. Griff is never going to change. I don’t think he wants to.”
“Do you?” she asks softly.
I grit my teeth in irritation. “Haven’t you done enough probing, Freud? Why don’t you bug your fiancé for a while?”
“He’s in London on business, so I decided to call you instead. Aren’t you lucky?”
I have to smile. “Honestly?”
“No,” she teases back. “Keep your opinion to yourself. I should get back to studying. Big exams coming up. Tell me when Keeley is ready to go in. I’ll call Griff, see if I can figure out where he’s at mentally and what his schedule is like. After they’ve officially met, I’ll be nosy, find out what he thinks of her, then report back.”
