Chapter 8
KAEDE
The sun shines through the windows behind us, dappled by the shades pulled down to keep us from being blinded by the bright morning light.
But it provides a hell of a background as I take a seat in Ross’s office, a cup of bulletproof coffee in my hand.
It’s an acquired taste, blending my preferred dark roast with local butter and MCT oil, but it’s replacing my usual egg white omelet today and providing a pick-me-up I desperately need after being here till after midnight last night.
“Missed you this morning for walkarounds,” I note, taking a sip. I cringe slightly. The coffee’s hotter than I realized. Blowing on the surface before I try that again, I ask, “You okay?”
“Yeah, Violet didn’t feel well this morning so I stayed with her.” He glances at his phone with a small smile, and I feel pretty sure that Ross skipped out on our walkthrough to give Violet a ‘Vitamin D injection’. “Forgot to text you, sorry.”
Is he seriously running out after meetings and skipping out on work for pussy? Nothing happened this morning, and I’m quite capable of doing the walkthrough myself, but it’s the point of the matter.
“No problem, we can do the midday one together. Target the lunch crowd with our handsome mugs.” I playfully slap my cheek, softening the demand that he show up for one of the walkthroughs today.
We’re equals, especially in the gym now, but I still haven’t adjusted to bossing him around.
Everyone else, no problem. Ross, my best friend, business partner, and brother from another mother?
Not so much. It’s also a taste I’m acquiring.
“Deal.” Ross agrees to the plan easily, and internally, I give myself a pat on the back.
“Guessing it was all good or you would’ve led with that?
” I nod, and he jumps track. “So let’s talk about the elephant in the room, this crazy idea with Courtney.
And if you tell her I called her an elephant, I will kill you.
Slowly.” His easy, sunny grin says he doesn’t predict that to be a problem.
I hope he still sees it that way in a few minutes.
He leans back in his chair, giving me the floor to present how I plan to handle this mess.
He sips at a green smoothie, his own recipe that was his first addition to the smoothie bar’s menu.
He makes a noise deep in his throat, a combination hum and groan that says ‘delicious’.
I disagree, having tried his concoction.
It’s worse than my bulletproof coffee, tasting like sweet grass, and I am not a cow. I eat cows.
“I handled it.”
“Duh, what are we going to do? Details, man.”
“She’s on board. Talked to her last night, actually.” I’m still amazed she went along with this, but I’m not going to tell Ross that. Nope, I’m going to play it chill . . . no big deal, nothing to see here, just a convenient business arrangement to secure a deal, that’s all and nothing more.
Ross doesn’t seem to catch the ‘no big deal’ vibe, though, because green smoothie spews out of his mouth as he chokes in shock. Coughing and wiping green goo that looks like leprechaun cum from his chin, he sputters, “What the fuck?”
“What? She agreed to pretend to be my fiancée like we talked about.”
His face is turning three shades of red, and with the glob of green he missed, he’s looking like Christmas instead of St. Patty’s Day now.
Still not going to tell him that. Especially when he yells, “That is not what we talked about! We agreed that you were going to figure out a way to ditch the whole crazy idea! Not get my sister involved.”
He glares at me, anger burning in his eyes, and I realize something vital.
Ross and I are brothers, through and through.
If I ever needed him for anything, he’d be the first to stand up for me.
Your Honor, Kaede couldn’t have committed this felony.
He was with me the whole time. Yeah, not that I would ever ask him to or even need him to, but he’d go so far as to lie for me and provide an alibi. We’re that kind of tight.
That doesn’t mean he thinks I’m good enough for his sister, though.
He’s money, and it shows more than he realizes.
It shows in the choices he makes, like the fact that he’s got three pairs of Nike Romaleos for work, at two hundred dollars a pop, just because he wanted different colors to choose from.
As if black, gray, or platinum make any difference in your lift.
You don’t need to be a millionaire for that, but it’s a completely normal thing for him because of who he is and how he grew up.
Me? I’ve had the same pair of Chuck Taylors for a couple of years. Not that I can’t afford to buy a new pair, but the ones I have are in good shape, so why would I buy another? It’s a different mindset because I’ve never had it like Ross has.
The fact is, the only reason Ross and I ever met is because I got a scholarship to the fancy private school he attended. Even then, we wouldn’t have been friends if not for my skills on the field.
That was my way in with that crowd. I wasn’t on their level, not really, but they let me pass through the gates because I could catch a ball and run fast. As long as I kept that up, I was accepted.
Ross never judged me for my lack of money, to his credit. He would come over to my place on the other side of town any time I invited him, and we connected on more levels than just football.
But his reaction tells the truth. As close as we are, I’m not one of ‘them’. I’m not good enough for his sister.
My only saving grace is that I’m not trying to leap-frog into Courtney’s world for real. She’s doing me a solid—hell, doing Ross a solid too—by pretending to be with me.
I force myself to take another sip of coffee, though it tastes bitter on my tongue now with the rising bile in my gut. Blanking my face, I challenge Ross, not something I do often, but when push comes to shove, I absolutely can.
“Look, Courtney and I talked about a few dinners and acting like a couple at the gym. She knows what’s up, and she’s fine with it. There’s no other way, and you know that because I’m sure your mind has been playing out scenarios just like mine has.”
Ross glances at his phone again—again!—and I realize that maybe he hasn’t spent quite as much time obsessing about this as I have.
What is going on with him and Violet, anyway?
Doesn’t matter. Just like the old days, he tossed it up, the ball’s in my hands .
. . and I’ll just have to drag us across the goal line if I have to.
“Even if you haven’t, you know that I have studied and analyzed this from every possible angle. There’s no other way that lets us out of this clean. Trust me. Hell, if you don’t, trust Courtney. She’s the most trustworthy person either of us knows!”
He sighs, collapsing back in his chair so hard it squeaks. “Fake shit doesn’t work. It always comes out, and I’m speaking from experience here.”
“This is not like you and Violet.” Nope, not at all. Firstly, there’s a huge difference between a few dinners and actually going through with a fake wedding. A wedding attended by approximately three hundred Italians and Italian Americans. Not to mention the Andrews family.
Courtney and I are just playing kissy at the gym and sharing a few dinners. That’s a cake walk compared to Ross and Vi. My biggest danger is Missy making some bitchy comment to Courtney and Courtney going all verbal Jedi on her ass. You could shut her up with a kiss.
Nope, not thinking like that or I’ll get myself into an even deeper shit pile than I’m already drowning in.
He stares at me for a solid minute, and I can see the hamster in his mind churning away on the wheel like a speed demon to replay all the analyzations I’ve already done. He reaches the same conclusion, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Don’t hurt her, Kaede. She’s my sister.” It’s not a request. But I can understand it. He’s the big brother through and through.
“I won’t. You know I wouldn’t,” I vow.
“Okay. Let’s figure out how this is going to go.”
Suddenly on board with the whole Mission Unbelievable of Courtney and me, he’s ready to get to work on strategies. I am too until my phone rings.
I gave Ross some shit about answering for Vi in the middle of an important conversation, but I got it. She’s one of a select few he would interrupt business for. I have one person I’ll do that for.
Holding up a finger, I answer my phone. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Oh, thank God, Kaede. I know you’re so busy at work, but I’m hoping you can help me really fast.”
She doesn’t call for help often, usually preferring to handle whatever comes up on her own. She taught me that, standing proud on your own two feet no matter what life throws at you, and life has thrown her some hard shit.
I was still a toddler when my dad passed of an unexpected heart attack, young enough that I only have vague memories of him.
In fact, they might be memories or they might just be my brain extrapolating from the pictures in my baby book and the stories I’ve heard.
He’d been a hell of a softball player, the pinch hitter in our church’s league, a good man who loved my mom and me and had no bigger dream than a happy, healthy family.
Mom hadn’t faltered after we lost him, pulling herself up by her bootstraps.
She knew that if we were going to be okay, it was up to her.
She’d worked days at an assisted living facility and gone to nursing school at night.
It’d taken her years, but eventually, she got that piece of paper and had been another perfect example of chasing your goals with steadfast determination.
All that to say the rushed pace of her speech means something’s really wrong.
“Anything, of course.”