Chapter 26
RAINA
Sitting with Vivian in my kitchen was supposed to be comforting.
We’re nestled by the window, each nursing a warm cinnamon tea while watching the rain pour down over Portland’s historical buildings, which is how spring starts in these parts, with cold showers and gloomy, grey skies as the temperature hikes up and down until the first blossoms pop open.
It’s a sort of limbo, much like how I’ve been feeling over the past few days since I returned from Haus of Sin. The whole experience feels like a distant dream, and I miss it, maybe a little too much.
“Raina, Alex’s calling again,” Vivian says, pulling me back into the present.
I crane my neck to get a glimpse of my phone’s screen. I left it on the table a few feet away. I let it go to voicemail again. “I asked for some time to think about everything,” I grumble. “He’s not helping.”
“My guess is he misses you,” Vivian replies. “And I can’t exactly blame him. You’re quite the woman.”
“I miss him, too. I miss them.”
“Then why don’t you talk to them?”
“Because Kaleb still hasn’t returned any of my calls. I need to talk to him first. I need to make him understand that everything that happened was supposed to happen. I need to shove some sense into that stubborn head of his, because right now, I feel rudderless without my brother.”
Vivian shakes her head slowly. “Listen, Kaleb is really old school about these things. He just needs time to process everything. It doesn’t mean you have to put your own life on hold in order to accommodate his pouting, because that’s what this is, pouting.”
“He punched Alex.”
“That’s how boys pout,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “He’ll get over it, Raina. You’re the only family he’s got. You’re his sister and his best friend.”
“Alex was his best friend,” I say and sigh deeply. “And I heard from one of the other guys at the shop that Kaleb quit his job.”
Vivian’s eyes grow wide with astonishment. “No way.”
“It’s that bad, Viv. He’s actually left the shop. Putting some distance between the guys and me feels like the right thing to do, at least until I can get Kaleb to sit down and talk to me, without the yelling and the judging ideally.”
“That’ll be a challenge,” she says and scoffs lightly. “Mr. Judgy McJudgerson.”
“He’s always been that way. He’s the traditional family guy.
We didn’t have our parents growing up, and the little we could remember about them…
it all pointed to the traditional model: the mom and pop, the dinner table, the righteous family, the kids growing up in a healthy, God-loving environment, knowing right and wrong and all the social norms. They all fit a familiar pattern for him—which is the complete opposite of what we ended up growing up with. ”
“Right, because the foster system failed you both for so long.” My best friend sighs deeply. “I get it. I suppose it’s Kaleb’s coping mechanism.”
“Or his way of keeping our real family alive somehow.”
“But they’re not,” she says. “Your parents are gone, and they’ve been gone for a very long time. Kaleb needs to accept that. He needs to stop projecting all of it on you. You deserve a life and a happiness of your own, regardless of whether it fits his so-called traditional pattern or not.”
“He just doesn’t fully understand,” I reply. “I just need to explain it to him when he’s more willing to listen.”
“What if he’ll never be willing to listen?”
I frown. “I don’t know.”
“Will you end it with the guys for good just to make Kaleb happy?”
The question is hard to answer, even though I want to say no.
My lips won’t let me. My heart aches, and the nausea makes it hard even to focus.
The mere thought of ending it forever with the three men makes me physically sick, just as the thought of losing my brother because of this makes me equally sick.
I will lose something precious whichever way I go.
“I guess time will tell,” I reply, but even Vivian isn’t buying it.
“The only thing time will tell is that nobody lives your life for you, except you,” she bluntly states, waving the concern away with the flick of her wrist. She takes a slow sip of her tea before changing the subject. “Oh, I almost forgot. The firm has been under a bit of a cloud lately.”
“Bancroft & Associates?”
“Mm. They’ve been holding senior partner meetings almost every day, and Jeremy’s been asked to participate in each and every one of them,” Vivian replies.
“Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing for him?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not sure. Every time he comes out of one of those meetings, he looks angrier and angrier. I don’t know what the bosses are cooking up, but I think Jeremy’s been on the receiving end of some terribly unpleasant things.”
“He lost a case for the firm, didn’t he?”
“Yes, and he compromised two more,” Vivian says. “One of the other senior partners said they were going to put me in charge of an upcoming case and that Jeremy would have the second chair. He’d have to defer to me.”
I can’t help but chuckle dryly. “Oh, he’s got to hate that, considering he has seniority over you.”
“Maybe, but I’ve won more cases recently. I’m actually one settlement away from beating his first winning streak, the streak that got him the senior associate position, mind you.”
I love seeing Vivian win, especially over a sad and frustrated little man like Jeremy.
She’s a brilliant lawyer with excellent knowledge of corporate law.
For as long as I can remember, Vivian rocked every single negotiation she’s had to take part in—from lemonade stands and prom budgets in school to multibillion-dollar agreements behind glass doors and lighter sentences for some of her firm’s white-collar criminal clients.
Victory looks good on her.
And failure suits Jeremy better than ever, especially since I’m pretty sure he’s the one who sent Kaleb looking for me at Haus of Sin.
“He called me last night,” I tell Vivian.
Her laughter fades, and a frown of deep concern casts a dark shadow over her face. “Who, Jeremy?”
“Yes.”
“Did you pick up?”
“Only to hear what he had to say.”
“And?” She inches closer, the tension stiffening her shoulders.
I offer a shrug in return. “He said he wanted to talk. He wanted to apologize. I asked if he was going to apologize for telling Kaleb where I was. He said he wouldn’t apologize for doing the right thing, so I hung up on him.”
“So he is the one who told Kaleb.”
“I guess.”
“That utterly miserable sack of sh—”
“Viv, it’s over. I obviously don’t ever want to see him again, or hear from him. I blocked his phone number, his email address, every single social media account, all of it. Blocked, blocked, blocked.”
“Good. Now you need to deal with Kaleb.”
And get my life back.
By some miracle, I get Kaleb to meet me outside our favorite café, Le Parisien, the next day. He stands tall and proud in the rising morning wind beneath a grey, almost depressing, sky. With his hands in his pockets and his lips pressed into a thin line, he doesn’t give me much to work with.
“Hey, Kaleb,” I say with a slight shudder.
I’m wrapped in my winter parka. It’s one of those colder, uglier days after the rain. Real spring is still far out of our reach, unfortunately, so I’m sticking to my winter wardrobe for a little while longer.
“Let’s go in and have a hot chocolate or something, my treat,” I add when the silence becomes unbearable. Kaleb nods once and follows me inside.
We take one of the corner tables, along with two hot chocolates, complete with mini marshmallows and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. I ask for some salted caramel biscuits, as well, because it’s been on my mind all morning amidst bouts of nausea, likely on account of the stress of it all.
Kaleb watches me as I power through a cookie and a biscuit before I delve into the hot chocolate. I notice he’s watching me.
“I wanted sweet and salty. It felt like the right combo,” I mutter with a mouthful.
“Why am I here, Raina?” he asks, sounding downright exasperated.
It takes a lot of willpower not to snap at him for being so difficult. “Because we need to talk,” I say and set the mug aside. I guess the melting mini marshmallows will have to wait. “About the guys and me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“First of all, lower your voice,” I hiss and lean forward, showing him a side of me he’s rarely seen. “Second of all, let’s get something straight right here, mister. Brother or not, I will smack you over the head if you don’t summon enough respect to sit here and talk to me in a civilized manner.”
Kaleb’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but to my relief, he finds what he needs to sit through the rest of this conversation, his shoulders dropping in what I can only assume is muted submission. “I’m listening.”
“Good. Here’s the thing,” I begin. “I didn’t know what the job was about when I took it, okay?
I didn’t recognize the holding company’s name, and they didn’t use ‘Haus of Sin’ in the job description.
I went there because it was almost a month’s worth of a paid gig at a time when I was desperate for cash. I had to survive.”
“Because Jeremy got you fired,” he mutters.
“Exactly. And Alex and the guys didn’t tell me it was them behind the job offer because they worried I might turn it down. Believe it or not, your opinion matters to me, Kaleb, and they knew that. But they also wanted me to succeed and to move on.”
“You could’ve just asked me for my help.”
“No, Kaleb. I had to handle it on my own. And you’ve got your own projects, your dream bike, that seminar in San Francisco. I’m never going to hold you back on account of my choices, and Jeremy was a terrible choice. The point is, I did it. I got through it on my own.”
Kaleb shakes his head slowly. “But at what cost, Raina?”