Chapter 8
TRAVIS
"You're doing great, Uncle Travis,” Paisley said.
“Thanks.”
“I kept asking Dad, and he never had the time."
I’d wanted to drop by my brother Tate's house to see my niece ever since I returned. But the week had been insanely busy, so I only managed to visit on Sunday. We were in his backyard, and Paisley had roped me into changing the twinkle lights in the tree house Luke had built her.
I sympathized with Tate. I knew why he kept finding excuses. Usually he indulged his daughter, but this sucked!
I’d promised Paisley, though, and I never went against my word. So here I was, moving about the huge-ass ladder, flexing my fingers so they wouldn’t fall off from the cold as I put the solar-powered fairy lights on the roof of the tree house.
She’d had electric ones for Christmas, but she insisted that she wanted to turn a new leaf.
I tried to explain to Paisley that they wouldn't do much for about half the year—Chicago wasn't the sunniest place in the colder months—but she was determined to use a climate-friendly way of lighting up her space.
"This looks perfect, thank you," Paisley said when I came down from the ladder.
I took a few steps back, looking at the lights. I couldn't see them from down here.
"They won’t give much light right now," I told her. I didn't want her to be disappointed.
"That's okay. They will in the summer. Besides, there are a few sunny days coming up. Want to go back inside the house?" Paisley asked. "I asked Gran to make your favorite: shrimp risotto."
I laughed. "Thanks, Paisley."
I still couldn't get over the fact that she was already eleven.
How had she grown up so fast? I was very young when Tate had her.
When she was born, I could barely believe that my brother was now a dad.
There was a big age gap between us, so of course it had seemed outlandish.
But even so, Paisley had wrapped me around her little finger ever since she was a baby. That was still true today.
Back inside the house, Paisley led me directly to the kitchen. My brother lived in a huge mansion that had a large backyard. He'd bought it years ago, insisting Paisley would like to have a yard, and he was right. My niece loved it.
I personally couldn’t see myself in a house. I liked my penthouse; the terrace was great. I entertained a lot there, especially in the warmer months.
"There you are," Gran exclaimed. There were plates with risotto around the kitchen island. "How does it look?"
"It's great. I love that I have a climate-friendly tree house," Paisley said.
I glanced at Tate, who carefully avoided my gaze. Reese was here too. She pressed her lips together, clearly trying to maintain a serious demeanor.
Lexi, Tate's wife, laughed. "Good for you. And it's going to look good for your school project too."
"I know." Paisley nodded.
"What's that? I didn't know it was a school project," I said.
"Yes, in geography. We were asked to try and make our main playground climate friendly. The tree house is made of wood, and the light is solar," Paisley said proudly.
"And you got Luke and me to do most of the work. You're a genius."
Paisley grinned. "I know."
Reese went over to her, fluffing her hair. “Well done. You’ve got a bazillion uncles. Why not use them?”
She was undeniably a Maxwell. I was so proud of her.
Gran didn't seem to share our joy. "Young lady, don't eschew your schoolwork and pawn it off on others."
"I wasn't," Paisley said indignantly. "I was managing my uncles. I came up with all the ideas."
That made even Tate start laughing. He shook his head. "Next time, manage less and do more operational stuff. That's how you learn, Paisley."
"Anyway," Paisley said, taking one of the plates from the kitchen island, "now I'm going to my room because I have homework, and I am doing the operational tasks of that." Her voice was very confident. She was truly a little manager.
We all kept poker faces until she left the room. After her steps grew fainter up the stairs, we burst out laughing.
"When did she grow up so fast?" I asked.
"Beats me," Tate answered.
Lexi laughed. "They start being smartasses at this age." She was a teacher, so she’d know.
My brother winked at her. They’d gotten married recently and were still in the honeymoon phase. Tate had divorced Lexi’s mother years ago, and for a long time, he seemed closed off to the world. Then he'd hired Lexi to nanny Paisley for the summer, and everything changed.
“I’m going to check on Paisley,” Gran said. “I don’t want her to be mad at me.”
“She’s fine, Gran,” Tate said, but she went upstairs anyway. Gran always mellowed out when it came to Paisley.
“How are things progressing with the hotel?” Tate asked me.
“Too slow for my taste but heading in the right direction. Now that Tim is on board, the pace will quicken, I’m sure.”
“Tell us more about the trip,” Reese said with a knowing smile.
I could barely hold back my laughter, knowing exactly what she was getting at.
I was betting the whole family knew by now.
Bonnie was still on my mind. It fucking annoyed me that I didn’t have her number anymore, and I hadn’t had time to track her on social media yet.
Either way, I wanted to get in touch with her because no way in my mind had things ended.
“What exactly do you want to know?” My tone was taunting.
Reese clapped her hands before pointing both forefingers at me. “We know all about Tim. How about Bonnie?”
Neither Lexi nor Tate was surprised. I was right. The whole family probably knew.
“It was unexpected, and that’s all I’m going to say on the topic. Besides, I know what you’re doing—deflecting from the job proposal. You’re considering other offers, is that it?”
Reese blushed. “I do have a few offers, but that’s not the holdup.”
“Then what is?”
She bit her lip, glancing away. To my astonishment, she looked upset. “I just need time to think.”
Tate gave me a look that clearly said, “Drop it.” I was missing something here, so I needed another strategy.
“Since I’ve got you two here, I want your opinion on this wine.” Tate brought a bottle he’d already chilled from the fridge.
My brother’s wine empire was growing by leaps and bounds every year. Dad shared his passion. In fact, it was probably how Tate got the bug. Growing up, Dad would spend his free time on the vineyard surrounding our childhood home, and Tate would trail him everywhere.
“Always putting us to work,” Reese said in a joking tone. “But I love doing wine tastings.”
I was surprised my brother was so blasé about this. Usually he invited the entire family out to a vineyard near Chicago, and we tasted anywhere between three and five wines.
He poured us each a glass, and we clinked them before the first sip.
It was light, almost fruity. Not a bad wine, for sure, but I preferred mine stronger.
“It reminds me of peaches,” Reese said. “I love it.”
Lexi only smelled it but didn’t taste it. She wrinkled her nose. “A bit too airy for me.”
“I thought you’d say that.” He kissed the top of her head before turning to look at me. “And you, too, right?”
“You know me well, brother.”
“I do. I’ll go back with that to the marketing team. They kept insisting the underlying smoky note was enough to get us out of the fruity category. I disagreed.”
“Happy we could help,” I replied. “I can’t wait to run few ideas for the hotel by you. You could be my own personal focus group.”
Software had been different. It was me and my team, all technical jargon and functionality. But the hotel was a Maxwell project. Luke had already designed the exterior of the building.
“My, doesn’t that make one feel special?” Reese replied. “Seriously, I can’t wait.”
“Same,” Tate said. “Why don’t you give us a heads-up? What are you considering?”
Over the next half hour, I told them about the concepts for the bar that the three design companies I’d asked to pitch came up with. One was a twenties motif—old luxury, paying homage to the building. One was a modern and minimalistic design. And the last one was Asian inspired.
I wasn’t sold on any one in particular, but I didn’t have a clear vision of it—which meant I needed to see more concepts.
“I agree,” Tate replied after I told them I'd asked for more design ideas. “If you’re not happy with any at first glance, discard them.”
“Exactly.”
While we chatted about how many more designs I should ask for, Gran came into the kitchen, announcing she was ready to leave.
"I'll take you home," I said.
"I can get myself home."
"No, I'm taking you." Whenever we had family events, we took turns taking Gran home. "Besides, I want to check your generator. The forecast says we might have a few snowstorms coming up. I want to make sure it's good to go if needed."
"Thank you."
We bid goodbye to the group. I ran upstairs to see Paisley, too, before leaving. The kid was working on her homework like a champ.
On the ride to Gran’s, she talked my ear off about Paisley’s twinkle lights.
I also used the opportunity to gauge her thoughts on the hotel.
“Reese said she took you to the hotel. What did you think?”
“I think it’s going to be lovely. I’m happy it won’t be empty anymore. Just makes me miss your grandfather even more, that’s all.”
“How are things going with… your dating?” The word sounded foreign in this context, but I knew Gran was seeing someone, and I wanted to channel her attention onto something positive. Besides, we were all still waiting for her to introduce him to us.
“He’s a companion. But your grandfather was the love of my life. Nothing will change that.”
I didn’t say anything else after that.
When we arrived, I opened the car door for her, offering my arm. I drove an SUV, and she always struggled to get out of it.
Gran’s house was small, but she insisted it was all she needed. I went inside with her and checked the generator. It was in good shape, ready to kick in if necessary.
“If your power gets cut off, call me anyway, okay?” I asked.
“There’s no need to dote on me. I’m a grown woman.”
“I know, Gran. It’s for my peace of mind.”
She pointed at me. “I know what you’re doing. I taught you that trick. I might be an old hag, but my memory works just fine.”
I laughed, kissing her cheek before leaving her house. It was true that she’d taught me that tactic. As a teenager, I’d protested loudly whenever she wanted me to text my whereabouts, but she'd insisted it was for her peace of mind. I was a quick learner.
I arrived home forty minutes later and sprawled out on the couch.
My penthouse was very different from Tate's place.
It was modern and also eerily quiet. I'd grown up in a huge household, so quiet wasn't something I was used to. That was why, after dropping off Gran, I’d scheduled a call with Tim.
My brothers were always making fun of me because I'd been a workaholic for years before selling the software company. It wasn’t that I necessarily wanted to be.
I loved life, but it couldn't be avoided back then, and after the sale, I'd been on the verge of a burnout.
I was going to pace myself better this time, but right now, in the early stages, I was too wound up to stop working.
Even though it was late, I took out my laptop. I opened Zoom and joined the meeting. Tim hadn’t entered the call yet.
I pulled up Facebook in a browser and searched for Bonnie Wilson.
It brought back three hundred results.
Fuck.
I looked closely at the pics, but none of them were my Bonnie. Some just had random objects as their profile picture, which didn't help.
I closed the window in frustration as Tim entered the chat. I wasn’t going to get to the bottom of my dolphin girl tonight.