28. Carter
28
CARTER
The March air nearly felt like summer as I stepped out of my townhome. It felt amazing after all that time we’d spent in the frigid cold. Drew parked on the street and then jogged up the stairs. He was over here so often that I half thought about inviting him to move in. I had plenty of space in my place, and Tristan was already staying here. It made it easier to work day and night, finalizing the plans for our company.
However, it would be a bad thing in one way. It was harder not to think about her when we were all together.
“I brought food,” Drew said, holding up a bag.
I knew there was a reason I liked the lad.
Tristan was on the back balcony, also enjoying the sun. He had a sketch pad in front of him and was doodling logos again. He always did that when he was frustrated about something.
Drew unloaded the food—takeout from a local Indian restaurant—while I got plates, silverware, and drinks.
We ate mostly in silence, enjoying the food, the sun, and the fresh air. But then finally, Tristan got us started.
“Anyone want any more naan?”
Drew and I shook our heads.
“All right then. First order of business… has anyone heard from her?”
The food in my stomach shifted painfully, and Drew looked away.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to start with that anymore?” I pointed out.
“Just checking,” Tristan said. “They’re keeping her under wraps for the press tour. She hasn’t made many appearances, since that horrible talk show in New York.”
“How can we even know for sure she’s still on the press tour?” I asked.
“She is,” Drew said. “If you look hard enough, you can find evidence online. Pictures of her at the hotels in the background behind Aiden or whatever.”
Right. Because everyone knew that what you saw on the internet couldn’t possibly be fake.
“I miss her,” Tristan said after a while. That wasn’t much of a newsflash.
“What’s next on the agenda? Or maybe I should say, what’s actually on the agenda?” I inquired.
“The contract with the Hopkins brothers. They’re still holding out on the?—”
“Why are we even doing this?” Drew said abruptly.
“Because we’re starting a business,” Tristan replied.
“But we’re all distracted. We’re all miserable. We should focus on what really matters.”
I couldn’t argue with his first two statements.
“What do you propose we do?” Tristan asked.
“What we do best,” Drew said. “Research. Reach out to people. Make contacts. Find people who know what they’re talking about. We have to at least try.”
“We did try—and that’s what made her leave,” I pointed out. Watching that fake video of her was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
“Let’s try harder. We’re not getting anything done anyway.” Drew swung his head around to Tristan. “Think it’s going to help to doodle fifty new designs for our logo?”
“No,” Tristan said. “But we’ve got a business to run.”
“And we had something more important than that.”
“There’s no guarantee we can help,” I told Drew, not for the first time.
“We have to try.”
Then we both looked at Tristan, who had his fingers steepled together. Finally, he sighed. “What’s the name of her friend the stunt double?”