72

She slides her chair out, ignoring the squeak of the chair legs on the floor, and grabs my arm, pulling me over to the bar.
“I run a business, Matthias,” she hisses, her anger hardly simmering, rather boiling over. Hot, spitting oil.
“I know, darli-”
She throws her hand up. “I wouldn’t just barge into your office if you had told me you were in a meeting. It’s not professional.”
“I’m sorry! Like I said, I was just dropping some food by.” That’s a lie and even I know it. “I just miss you. I feel like we haven’t had any time together for a week. My heart misses its hellion.”
There’s a thawing of her eyes, and then she blinks and it’s gone. “I’m busy. I’m trying to make this club work, Matthias. I spent two days away from it when we went to Milan.”
“I know. It wasn’t planned, but it all worked out, didn’t it?”
“Luckily! And with all the extra traffic from the”-she rubs her temple and drops her voice-“the fake engagement, it’s just taking a lot of juggling so that we can fit more people through while keeping up the service that we’re being known for.”
I want to reach out for her, but the fear of rejection holds me back. “I get it. Can I help in any way?”
She nods. “Yes. When I tell you I’m in a meeting, please, respect that I’m in a meeting.”
My jaw twitches, she keeps pushing me away, and I don’t know how to bring her back. “Fine. I’ll go, but promise me you’ll eat some of the food.”
She sighs. “Matthias.”
“Promise or I’m not leaving.”
She lets out a little snort and rolls her eyes, and for just a second, it’s just us again. I pull her in and kiss her, her scent calming me, her skin against mine, bringing me peace. She leans into the kiss, and everything is okay.
Then she pulls away.
“I miss you,” I whisper.
She just sighs, and murmurs under her breath, “Maybe that’s something you’re going to have to get used to.”
***
Aside from the total cold shoulder Damien has given me since the day he saw me with Clarissa, my other brothers are mostly on speaking terms with me again. Kylian, if anything, he’s been around more than usual, but also, as I predicted, he’s no help as to how I can get Damien to thaw out. But as someone who is dating his best friend’s little sister, and almost got killed in the process, I’m not sure I would take any advice he has to heart, anyway.
Kingsley does talks to me, but only about work, and to remind me to work things out with Damien.
Er, thanks, big bro. I hadn’t thought of that.
I’ve called, texted, emailed, sent messages through Melissa, Damien’s assistant, basically everything but carrier pigeon. At this point, I wouldn’t rule it out, though.
There’s only one more way to get to him.
My-Linh.
Neither of them were at last week’s Wednesday meeting. That’s the only time one of us has missed a meeting other than when Kylian was lying in a hospital bed. While I wish Damien was returning my calls, I never ever want to experience what I felt when Kylian was hooked up to all those machines.
I call My-Linh and she answers on the second ring.
“Matthias.” Just my name. But she answers.
“Hey, honey, how have you been?”
“Um, okay, you know. Wedding’s this weekend.” Her sweet voice sounds sad rather than tired. And if it’s because of me, I don’t know what to do with myself.
“I’ll be there, My-Linh.”
“You will, Matthias?” Her voice lightens, lifts. Hopeful.
“I’m really s-”
“Who is that?” I hear Damien’s voice in the background. “Is that him? Give me the phone, MyLinh.”
“But…” she starts but never finishes.
There’s a scuffle on the other line, and I hear her sigh in the background.
“Why are you calling My-Linh?” Damien growls into the phone.
It instantly makes me defensive. “Why not? She’s about to be my sister. I love her. I haven’t gotten to talk to her in weeks because you won’t come to the Wednesday meeting. And I miss you too, asshole. I wanted to talk to you.”
He scoffs, I can see his fucking face all screwed up in that grumpy fuck way that he has. “If I wanted to talk to you, I would’ve picked up your calls, answered your texts, replied to your email.”
“Well, you’re really going to love the carrier pigeon coming.”
He pauses. “Don’t do it.” He wouldn’t put it past me. It tickles me he knows me that well.
“Come on, man. We need to talk,” I urge him.
“Don’t call My-Linh again. She has a heart; she might actually answer.”
“Bro, it’s the week of your wedding, can’t we-”
He cuts me off. He doesn’t want to hear it. “Come. Don’t come. It’s up to you. My-Linh and everyone will want to see you. But stay the fuck away from me.”
“Dami-”
He hangs up.
Fuck!!
I slam my hand on my desk, and it sends a jarring pain up my arm.
Why can’t he just sit down with me for two fucking minutes and help him understand?
People change. He changed for fuck’s sake! In what universe did we ever think that Damien was going to be the first of us to marry for love? He didn’t believe in ever giving himself to someone like this. After the number that our parents did on us with the worst marriage in the history of dysfunctional marriages, the word “marriage” made all of us physically convulse and fall into a drunken stupor.
And now we’re here.
Him loving someone so much I know without any doubt if someone hurt half a hair on her head, he would torture them until not a drop of blood was left in their body.
And now, I just want him to know… I know how that feels. I want him to know that my and Clarissa’s arrangement, to start out was, was for business, now it’s so much more.
My heart hurts. I miss my brother.
And I need Clarissa.
I pick up the phone and dial her.
She doesn’t answer my call.
Two times.
Three times.
Four.
Nothing.