Chapter 25
twenty-five
PRESENT DAY
KATE
Amantha stands at the head of the boardroom table, giving an update on the exhibition plans and about a new mural she wants to include. She’s been networking with yet another copyright owner. There’s fire in her gray eyes, and I’m so freaking proud.
Whatever worries she had about the budget cuts and scrapping her original plans seem long gone. Amantha is all in, and she commands the boardroom wearing her lucky fitted pencil skirt and ice blue silk button up.
The corners of my mouth quirk when I see Val across the table, watching his fiancée with such predatory intensity I don’t know whether to laugh or gag. Val seems to have much more on his mind than Amantha’s speech, and it probably involves the janitorial closet they seem to think is invisible.
Gross.
Brandon sits beside Val. He catches my eye, then raises a cocky brow as if he’s just caught me watching him. I narrow my eyes, but my emotions remain conflicted.
On the outside, it appears we’ve defaulted to our previous habits, but Brandon’s blunt admissions at the restaurant softened something inside me. He usually hides behind his smirk and witty quips, but not that night. The earnest depth in Brandon’s expression as he admitted to still caring about me…
Something stirred in my belly.
And it was terrifying. I don’t want to feel…whatever it is I’m feeling toward him. I try to summon every characteristic of Brandon that annoys me, but it doesn’t work.
What does work, however, is feeling angry about all of it.
Why mess with my mind, inspire me to dump my somewhat-boyfriend, then spend every day trapped in that tiny office with me without acknowledging something transpired between us?
I’m back at square one: alone, and overthinking everything.
Joy.
I draw my attention back to my best friend, who is totally crushing this presentation.
“The exhibition plans are solidifying,” Amantha says, “Julia’s early social media response has been fantastic, and the few mock-ups I’ve printed of Kate’s photos look incredible.” She winks at me, and I flip my hair. She laughs, and even Kendra indulges in a rare lip twitch.
Then Amantha’s laugh fades into a terse smile.
“But we have an issue. One of the most iconic murals in Chicago—that giant pizza one on Murdock Avenue—is owned by a man named Tom. He lives off-grid in a cabin about five hours south of here, and he refuses to electronically sign the reproduction agreement.”
Blythe pipes up, frizzy hair vibrating. “But that mural is a tourist landmark! People will expect to see it in the exhibition.”
She’s not wrong. People post pictures of themselves online eating famous Chicago deep-dish pizza in front of it all the time. I’m pretty sure the hashtag #wantapizzathis is still trending. I chuckle at the clever play on words “Want a piece of this?”
“I know,” Amantha laments. “Tom dislikes even talking over the phone. He keeps insisting that we’re scammers and that he doesn’t trust the internet.”
I huff a sarcastic laugh, crossing my wide-legged black trousers. “What does that mean? He wouldn’t sign the reproduction agreement even if we mail it? What, is he expecting someone to drive into some creepy forest for him to sign off in person?”
Amantha leans forward, hands stilting upon the boardroom table.
“Glad you said it first, Kate,” Amantha says. “It’s exactly what he asked us to do. And it’s what we’re going to have to do.”
I open my mouth, but Amantha cuts me off. “Tom won’t give us the time of day if we don’t. And blowing off his request is as good as kissing that viral mural goodbye.”
My head swivels as I scan the curation team. It’s only the five of us, with Kendra in management. Amantha will likely need to stay with Anthony, and with all the wedding planning, Val may need to stick around too.
Is it my duty as maid of honor to go on this dumb trip?
Blythe wiggles across from me, and my spirits lift. Going with Blythe would be a downright blast. The idea of us road tripping sends the words flying out of me.
“I can go!” I grin at Blythe, but her freckled smile drops instantly.
My stomach hits my ankles before her apology begins.
“Sorry, kiddo. I’ve got some big plans this weekend. I’m proposing to Robyn.”
Everyone breaks into congratulations for Blythe, and I smile, happy for her and her soon-to-be fiancée, but bummed I’ll have to go alone.
Plus, is everyone and their dog getting married?
“I’ll go with Kate,” Brandon offers.
I didn’t realize my stomach could drop lower than my ankles, but apparently there is a trapdoor beneath my chair. My stomach is now trying to escape through the air ducts.
Kendra says, “That’s a good idea. Thank you, Brandon.” She stands and collects her things. “I must catch Rick before he leaves for the day. Enjoy the weekend.”
Brandon meets my murderous expression with a slow, satisfied smile.
Injustice ignites in my veins. I blow out a long, thin breath, and I’m partly shocked it doesn’t unfurl into smoke.
“Having two of you go is smart,” Blythe says, flashing me her charming front-tooth gap as she stands to leave. “The guy’ll be more likely to speak to at least one of ya.” She squeezes my shoulder before following Kendra out.
Amantha must sense my tectonic plates shifting, because she quickly approaches me. Her expression is an apology by itself, but my irritation spills out anyway.
“You can’t be serious,” I say.
“I am. Kate, it really is the best chance of us getting Tom’s signature. I’ll make it up to you for having to go with him, I swear.”
“You know I can hear you guys, right?” Brandon knits his fingers behind his head, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “I’m right here.”
“Shut it, Brandon,” I snap. “We know you can hear us, and we still don’t care.”
“I care,” Amantha interrupts. “Sorry I said that, Brandon. I just know Kate is… hesitant.”
I bite back a growl.
Val gently takes Amantha’s elbow. “Let’s let these two work this out on their own,” Val says. “For what it’s worth, I agree two going is better than one.”
“Whose side are you on, Russo?!” I say.
“The museum’s.” Val’s dark brown eyes are playful, though his words drive the reminder home. If the museum fails, I’ll never hear the end of it from my parents.
An unemployed daughter who could have been a lawyer would only throw gasoline on their hate-fire—dancing pitchforks included.
But I also refuse to go on a road trip with Brandon unless I can tie him to the roof of the car.
Amantha and Val say their goodbyes before they rush to make it in time for Anthony’s basketball game. I had been debating on going too, since I haven’t had a legendary chat with Susan in a while, but now I’ll definitely have to miss it.
The boardroom falls silent as Brandon and I stare each other down. Only the curation team’s fading voices remind me of the fact that they are eagerly going home to their loved ones. Another crest of irritation raises my hackles.
“You’re not coming. This isn’t a two person job.”
“I most definitely am, love. You heard the rest of the team. It’s five against one.”
I rise, gripping the table as I lean over it. “You’re insufferable.”
“Whew. What a relief.” Brandon’s dimples hollow his cheeks as he stands to match me. “Glad we haven’t entered some parallel universe in which you can actually stand me. Wouldn’t know what to do without your claws in my back, Katie Cat.”
I tip my head back with a frustrated shake. “Why won’t you just drop this already?! I’m more than capable of handling this. You know I don’t need you.”
Brandon’s smile slips. “I’m aware. But if you’d stop whining for even a millisecond, maybe you’d realize this is about more than you”—his jaw works while he searches for the right word—“flouncing around like you own everything.”
“Flouncing?” I say incredulously. “Flouncing?!”
“Yes.” Brandon doubles down with a hard look. “Flouncing.”
I’m rounding the table before I know it.
“I don’t flounce, you idiot. I’ve never flounced a day in my life!”
“Yet, here you are, flouncing.”
I’m seething, glaring, and very much wishing for a pair of boxing gloves so I could hit him right now.
“Then what is this even about?”
Brandon’s restraint snaps, and he coughs a hard laugh.
“Gosh, I wish my mama didn’t raise me right.
Not when I have to deal with your bratty attitude.
” He shoves a hand through his hair. “It’s about doing the right thing.
And driving alone into a forest to meet up with some creepy guy is about the stupidest thing you could do.
But would you ever admit that you might need someone? No!”
He throws his arms in the air, pacing away before looping back like a stupidly muscled boomerang. He lowers his face dangerously close to mine.
“So yeah, Kate. I will be going on this trip. Because even though you don’t need me”—he says these words with air quotes, and the urge to smack him intensifies—“I’m still gonna be there to protect your sorry butt if something goes wrong.
” Brandon’s chest heaves less than a foot away from mine, but our eyes stay locked in battle.
“Why?” The word spills out of me before I can stop it. “Why do you still care?”
His surprised eyes flick between mine.
I bite my lip, cursing the way my heart races in anticipation of an answer I shouldn’t care about. Six years ago, I felt the sting of a playboy’s pre-manufactured date that had been meant for a million girls, including me.
But I’d also never felt more seen than I did that night.
How can someone so shallow be so deep?
I always felt so protected by him, until he wasn’t there when I needed him most. And his unreliability, his secrets, broke me on the night he never showed up.
“Why?” I croak the demand. “Tell me why.”
Something seems to snap within him. His palms fly up to cradle my cheeks, making my eyes blow wide. War rages behind his forest-green gaze, but his lips stay drawn tight. The familiar heat of his calloused hands makes emotion sting my tear ducts.