Chapter 33
thirty-three
. . .
Rafe
Bridger stopped by to give me a ride to the hangar, as I was taking his helicopter to Magnolia Falls today. We all took turns going to Cutler’s games, and I was looking forward to seeing him play.
I was ready to get away. I had a lot on my mind, and I didn’t have a clue what I should do.
“You doing all right?” my brother asked, glancing over at my hand still wrapped in the bandage. It was pretty swollen and bruised, so I figured keeping it covered was a wise choice.
“I’m good,” I lied.
“Don’t bullshit me, brother. Tell me what the fuck is going on.” He turned down Main Street, heading toward the hangar.
“I’m just off my game lately. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll figure it out.”
He pulled into the parking lot and put the truck in park.
“How about you just tell me what’s bothering you?” he said, surprising me because Bridger wasn’t big on talking things out.
“Dude, this is not your thing.” I unbuckled my seat belt.
“The helicopter isn’t leaving until you start fucking talking, Rafe.”
I turned to face him. “My boss is a dick. He’s trying to steal my clients because he’s afraid I’ll leave him.”
“Didn’t you bring on more new clients than any other advisor this year? And don’t you bring in the most revenue?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, this isn’t much of a shock. He’s holding on to his prize horse. Losing you will hurt him and his company.” He shrugged.
“So I’m just supposed to let him shit on me?”
Bridger rolled his eyes, not hiding his irritation. “Of fucking course not.”
“Bridger, I’ve got a raging headache, my hand is throbbing, and I’m not in the mood to try to read between the lines,” I hissed.
“It’s time, brother. Time to jump fucking ship. You’ve been ready for a while. He needs you. You don’t need him.”
“It’s a big move.”
“One you’ve been talking about and planning for the last eighteen months. You’ve saved a ton of money. Come on, brother. I’ve known you my whole life; this isn’t you.”
“This isn’t me? What the hell does that mean?”
“You’re the guy who doesn’t overthink things. You’re the guy who trusts his gut. You are not the dude who lets fear rule you.” His gaze was hard, and I wanted to be offended, but I knew he was coming from a good place.
“Fuck you,” I growled and reached for the door handle. “This is not fear. This is me trying to be smart. Making sure I have a plan.”
“Rafe,” he hissed. “Sit the fuck down and listen to me.”
I shook my head, irritation coursing through my veins. I turned to look at him, arching a brow. “You wanted the floor. Go ahead and kick me when I’m down.”
“I’m not kicking you when you’re down, brother. I hate this shit. But I see what you’re doing—hell, everyone sees it, and no one wants to say it. The whole family is worried about you. So I’m here trying to get you to pull your head out of your ass.” He glanced out the front windshield and then back at me. “You were living with Lulu, and I’ve never seen you happier. But you let her pack her shit and move to Paris without so much as a fight. And now you’re pissed off about your pussy-ass boss trying to steal your accounts from you, and you’re doing nothing about it. You’re afraid. For whatever fucking reason, you’re fucking afraid.”
I blew out a breath and ran a hand down my face. “What was I going to do with Lulu, huh? Ask her not to go? No one has supported her dreams before now, and I won’t be that guy. This opportunity meant everything to her. I was trying to be a good guy.”
“I’m not suggesting you ask her to stay. I’m suggesting you figure out another way to make it work. I think you’re afraid she won’t take you up on it, so you aren’t even going to try. Instead, you’re going to be a miserable fuck because you know you should have fought for her.”
His words stung, and I glared at him before I let his theory sink in.
“I don’t know if she feels the same way I do,” I finally said.
“I’m not big on feelings, but even I couldn’t ignore what was going on. She feels the same way, dipshit. So stop sitting on your ass and just fucking ask her because when it’s too late, you’re going to regret it.”
“Thank you for the advice, Dr. Phil. I’ll think it over,” I smirked. “And as far as work goes, I just need to get my ducks in a row. Make sure the timing is right.”
“The timing will never be right, Rafe. Let me ask you something.” He reached for his bottle of water and took a sip before continuing. “Do you think I’m a smart businessman?”
“You started a tech company out of your garage, and you cleared a billion dollars last year. Yeah, I think you’re a smart businessman.” I chuckled because the question was ridiculous.
“I would not hand over my books and bank accounts to anyone I didn’t think was brilliant. I don’t give a shit if you’re my brother or not. If you weren’t really fucking good at what you do, I would not let you manage my finances,” he said. “You are cheating yourself by working for someone else at this point. So make the move. He’s shown you his hand. He has nothing left to offer you. Stop being fucking afraid, or I’ll break your other wrist.”
“At least you own that you broke the first one.” I barked out a laugh. “Listen, I appreciate everything you said. And as much as I hate to admit it, I think you’re right.”
“Can I get that in writing, asshole?”
“Give me this weekend to work this shit out and get my head on straight. Thanks for talking this through.”
He shocked the shit out of me when he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. My older brother had never been an emotional guy, so I hugged him back, holding it a little too long because I knew it would freak him out.
He shoved me back with a laugh. “All right. Stop being a pussy and figure out your shit.”
“Ah… ever the philosopher.” I reached for the door handle and grabbed my duffle bag. “See you in two days.”
I climbed onto the helicopter and thought about his words all the way to Magnolia Falls. I didn’t doubt that he was right; I just wasn’t sure how I’d handle it.
Once the helicopter was on the ground, I thanked Lars, the pilot.
Emerson was standing against the hood of her car as Cutler ran toward me.
“Uncle Rafe, I knew you’d come!” he shouted, as he launched himself into my arms. I tried to keep my wounded hand out of the way and held him with my good hand.
“Of course, I came, buddy. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Cutler, you need to be careful of Uncle Rafe’s sore hand,” Emerson said as she chuckled.
I knew Nash was working this morning, but he’d meet us at the game in a few hours.
“Oh, man. I totally forgot because I was so excited to see you,” he said, looking at me with concern as he slid down to the ground.
“It’s fine. I’ll have your mama check it out.”
“My mama is the best doctor in the whole wide world, and that’s a big ole world,” he said.
Emerson rumpled the top of his hair and hugged me. When she pulled back, she held her hand out to inspect my wrist. Her eyes widened as she took it in. “We’re not going to even unwrap that here. Let’s stop by the office. It’s closed today, but I can use the portable X-ray machine to see how bad it is.”
“We’ll look at the pictures and see how bad it is, Uncle Rafe,” Cutler mimicked his mother.
“Thanks, Dr. Beefcake.”
“Dr. Beefcake!” He fell back in a fit of laughter as we drove the short distance to Emerson’s office. She was the local pediatrician in Magnolia Falls, and my sister was one of the most brilliant people I’d ever known.
I sat down on the chair in one of her patient rooms, and Emerson sat on the little rolling chair and moved in front of me. Cutler stood beside her, acting like he was the chief of surgery, looking all concerned.
“Let’s get it unwrapped first and see how bad it is,” she said as she unwound the cloth carefully.
Her eyes widened, and Cutler gasped once the bandage was removed. It was a deep purple color and twice the size of my other wrist.
“Can we get a priest up in here? This is not good,” Cutler said, as he rubbed his temples and sucked in a breath. I barked out a laugh and then winced when my sister pressed slightly on my hand.
“He’s going to be just fine, my love.” She winked at her son. “I’m hoping it’s a bad sprain and not broken because surgery is no fun.”
She carefully turned it over to inspect both sides.
“How will we know?” Cutler asked.
“I’m going to get the portable X-ray machine and take some photos. You stay here and keep Uncle Rafe company, and I’ll be right back.”
He reached for my good hand, his eyes filled with empathy. “How bad is it? You can tell me.”
“Scale of one to ten, I’d say it’s a six.” If I was being honest, it wasn’t what was bothering me the most right now. I had other things on my mind.
“A six isn’t too bad. Did someone call Lulu and tell her that you’re hurt?”
“Nah. She’s living in Paris now. I don’t want to bother her with something silly.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Something silly? If Lulu was hurt, wouldn’t you want to know?”
Fair enough. “Of course.”
“Man, all my uncles are not very good with the ladies.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I feel like I always have to tell everyone what to do.”
“Lulu’s not really my girl. We don’t even live in the same country,” I said. But I kept hearing Bridger’s words in my head. Maybe I was afraid. I didn’t want to pull her away from her life and her plans, so where could this go?
“Do you love her, Uncle Rafe?”
Damn. Beefcake was such a straight shooter.
“I do.” He was the first person, outside of myself, that I’d admitted it to.
“So why don’t you just live in the same country?”
“It’s not that simple, buddy.” I shrugged. “She really needs to be in Paris right now. It’s a big opportunity for her. I can’t ask her to give that up.”
“Well, my mama said that you’ve lived in Rosewood River your whole life. If you can’t ask your girl to move by you, how come you don’t just move by her?” His little hand was holding my good hand as if he were trying to comfort me, and I just looked down at him with my jaw hanging open.
Great fucking question.
“Well, for starters, my house is in Rosewood River.”
His head tipped back with a laugh. “Uncle Easton’s house is in Rosewood River, too. That’s where Lulu punched you in the throat that first day, remember?”
I chuckled. “Yep. I remember.”
“Well, Uncle Easton moved out of his house so he could live with Henley. I remember he told me it doesn’t matter what house they live in as long as they’re together. I’m sure there are houses in Paris, Uncle Rafe.”
Fair point.
“Right. But then there’s my job to think about.”
“Oh, man. They don’t do the numbers in Paris?” he asked, his gaze searching mine with genuine concern.
“They do the numbers in Paris,” I said, lifting one shoulder as if I were conceding.
“Or maybe you don’t want to move cause you’re afraid to leave your home. I remember Pops was worried when Mama was going to move away before he asked her to marry him.” He looked up at the ceiling with a big grin on his face. “Man, I had to give Pops a talking-to about that.”
“What did you say?”
“I said we could move wherever Mama went because we were a family, and we should be together. Doesn’t matter where, right?”
“How’d you get to be so smart?” I asked.
“Well, my mama is a doctor, and she’s real smart.” He shrugged, and I laughed, just as Emerson wheeled the machine into the room.
“What’s going on in here?” she asked.
“Just getting some life lessons from Beefcake.”
“He gives it to you straight,” she said proudly and set up the machine.
“He sure does.” I winked at him.
And then I thought about everything he said. Everything Bridger said.
Everyone was right. I was miserable without her.
It was time to make some moves, and I was ready to make them.