25. Brandt
brANDT
Alright, let’s do this.
A surge of energy rises in my chest. I haven’t felt this amped up since Ryan Fox dared me to chug one of those dangerously high-caffeine sodas freshman year in high school. This time it’s all natural. And there’s no Ryan Fox to taunt me.
Nope, now it’s all me.
I yank open the door to Tennessee Trouble, walking in like I own the place.
Despite the bright sunshine outside, every lightbulb in this place is turned up to eleven, reflecting off the walls and floor.
I turn toward the reception desk, ready to plead my case with whomever is sitting there.
If they are anything like the woman we have at the welcome desk at Hayes headquarters, I’m going to have to do some smooth talking —and maybe wine and dine her—to even get her to call Lindee.
It doesn’t matter, because I’m cut off.
“You’ve got quite some nerve showing up here.”
I whip around, the stern, judgmental voice hitting me like a sandbag to the knees. To be fair, it’s not as cutthroat as I would have expected.
“Mikayla, hi…” I stumble. “I—”
“Just what do you think you’re doing here? You think that you can simply stroll in here and make everything okay?”
Well, I didn’t think it would be simple…
“Mr. Rawlins, what an unexpected surprise,” Leland drawls, coming up behind Mikayla and placing a hand on her shoulder, like he’s telling a dog to heel. Which, maybe he is. Because comparing Lindee’s older sister to a guard dog would be an understatement. “To what do we owe the honor?”
“I…” I swallow hard, trying to remember everything I practiced on the way up here. “I’m here to talk to Lindee.”
“Fat chance,” Mikayla spits.
Saw that coming.
I take a couple of steps, trying to close the gap that is the entire lobby between us. This conversation doesn’t need to be broadcast for everyone to hear.
“Please. I know that I have a lot of explaining to do, and that’s why I’m here. There are things I need to tell her. Important things.”
Only for her ears things.
“If they were so important, why didn’t you say them before?”
The question is simple, earnest, and heartfelt. She’s asking because her interest is protecting her sister. Not out of some mean-spirited grudge or a power trip. It’s good, old-fashioned sibling defense. Same way I would be if someone broke my sisters’ hearts.
For all the times Mikayla Murray has been mean and cold, this was her opportunity to really lay into me. To let me have it. Instead, she’s keeping it level. Like maybe if I give her the right answer, she’ll grant me access.
“Brandt!” Rylan exclaims, jogging down the long, wide staircase. “Didn’t ever expect to see you again.”
He shakes my hand, slapping me on the back like we’re still buddies. The exact opposite of his sister right now.
“Because there’s no reason to be seeing him,” Mikayla says. “And he was just leaving.”
“Please, Mikayla. Let me see her. At least tell her I’m here so that she can make the decision herself. If she doesn’t want to see me, then I’ll go.”
“Why should I? You weren’t honest before, so why should we believe that you’ll be honest now?”
I swallow hard. She’s got me there.
“I will be. I have my reasons and…frankly, I’d like to share them with Lindee first. I feel like she deserves that.”
“He’s right, Emmy,” Leland says softly, that grandfatherly warmth shining through. He squeezes her shoulder, the move just as gentle as his words. Mikayla doesn’t waiver though.
“There isn’t anything you can say that can make this right.”
A wrecking ball hits me, knocking me off balance for a second.
It’s not Mikayla’s choice, it’s Lindee’s, and I know that despite being the oldest, Mikayla is not the family spokesperson she believes.
Her siblings very much speak their mind.
Still, I had hoped that maybe as a fellow oldest, she would understand where I was coming from.
That me saying I have my reasons would be enough—because I’m sure there are things she has her own reasons about.
“Whatever,” Rylan scoffs. “You don’t speak for us, Mikayla.”
And there it is.
Turning to me, Rylan gives me a smile. But it’s not a happy one. It’s muted and filled with something left unsaid.
“She’s not here. She—”
“Rylan Gilbert Murray! I swear to God, if you tell him—”
“Darlin’, don’t…” Leland warns. The look he gives Mikayla is both admonishing and lethal. The kind of look that makes you stop dead in your tracks.
I press my lips together, holding back my snicker at Leland’s own personal tagline. There’s something about hearing him say it live and in person rather than on a video that hits me straight in the giggles.
“Where is she?” I ask, thankful to get my question out sans laughter. “The lab? Her cottage?”
“Not sure.” Rylan shrugs. “Haven’t seen her since we got back last week. All she said was she needed an escape, and when she was ready to return to the land of the living, she would.”
Shit…
Wait. An escape. Lindee used that phrase before.
I use this place to come think. It’s my own personal escape.
Bingo.
“I know where she is.”
Rylan furrows his brow. “You do? How?”
“There’s no way you know that,” Mikayla snarks. “We don’t even know. And we’re her family.”
But I’m her man…
“I promise you. I know.”
“Then what are you waiting for, young man?” Leland says, stepping toward me. He runs his eyes up and down my body, assessing me. He takes a moment, brushing something off my shoulder and then straightening out my button-down. “Go get your girl.”
That’s exactly what I’m going to do.