The Girl He Needs (26 page)

I run several probable ideas through my head before I realize the truth. “You hired a private investigator?”

I should have known. It was something they talked about doing when Will left.

“Of course we hired a private investigator. Had you been responsible and simply told us of your whereabouts, we would not have had to resort to such measures. Your father is running for a public office, after all. We needed to make sure the other candidate couldn’t surprise us with anything. Like a husband or a child.” Mother finishes her drink.

“Well you should fire that shit bag you hired because I have both.” I roll my eyes and step away to fill more orders, ignoring my mother’s gasp of surprise at my language. I’ve never cussed in front of her but my anger at my naiveté in thinking I might actually be away from the ever-watchful eyes of my parents has left me fuming.

After reining myself in, I step back to where my friends and family sit. I lean across the bar toward my mother. “Cut to the chase, Mom. Why are you here?” I stare at her, my eyes not wavering. I’ve come so far from the scared girl I was two years ago when I stood in front of them, holding my wedding dress in one hand, and told them I was leaving, my knees knocking.

“Enough is enough, Josie. It’s time for you to come home. We need you. Do the right thing.” She stares back.

Wow. That’s a loaded sentence coming from someone who should’ve done a whole lot more regarding her family, a mental illness, and keeping us intact. Would things have gone differently if we’d all been a part of Will’s illness and treatment? We will never know.

The tension is palpable and no one talks.

“What brings you here?” Brinn asks Max, breaking the silence.

“Ah,” he says before he finishes his drink and slides the tumbler toward me. “I thought I might be of some assistance.” He gestures to my mother before he turns to Brinn. “And I’d wanted to see my girl, Josie, but I’m guessing she’s no longer my girl. But then I guess she never really was.”

I throw back my head and laugh. “Wow, you make it sound like you’ve been pining away. I’ve seen your Facebook page. Daphne, that’s her name, right? She’s the law clerk you were crushing on when we were engaged?”

Max has the good sense to look embarrassed. “I owe you an apology.”

“You did me a favor,” I say while looking at my mother.

“We’re really here about the business. With your father no longer able to work in the practice due to his schedule there’s a...concern that there isn’t enough Woodmere presence at the office.” Max says.

“Stuart’s in the office. I’m pretty sure that’s a lot of Woodmere presence.”

My mother slaps her hand on the counter. “Your brother is a boob, and with William having not finished law school, it’s now become your responsibility.”

“William,” I say, mocking her tone, “is an amazing writer, Mom. Have you read his book? And while we’re on the subject of William. How dare you keep—”

“And let you and your brother worry if it was going to happen to you?” She grips her clutch, tucking it under her arm.

“But he needed—-”

She steps up to the bar, her eyes flashing. “You have no idea what it’s like to watch your children turn their backs on you when they need you the most, and I hope you never do. Whatever you may think of your father and me, Josephine, it would behoove you to acknowledge there are two perspectives.”

I struggle with my words, wondering if perhaps an apology might be warranted. “Mother—”

She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “It’s time to come home.”

Max leans against the bar. “It’s a great position, Jo, a chance to make partner in a few short years. You just have to come with us. We have the private jet on standby.”

“I didn’t even take the bar, that’s how uninterested I am in practicing law.”

Brinn tosses a ten-dollar bill on the counter. “It was nice meeting you both. I have to get going, Josie. See you at work tomorrow.” He nods to Jayne and rises to leave.

“Wait,” I say but he ignores me.

I come from around the bar and catch up with him at the door. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs my hand off his arm, his eyes scanning the room.

“Oh really? Because you could’ve fooled me. I thought we were meeting by the restroom and later tonight.... Talk to me.” I move to stand in front of him.

“Your family’s in town. I’ll just get out of the way—”

“That’s stupid. You are not and will never be
in the way
.” I try not to roll my eyes but fail.

He shrugs his shoulders before he steps around me and leaves.

“Work tomorrow?” My mother asks when I return to the bar.

“Yes, Brinn and I work together. He’s a pilot.” I can tell that in my mother’s eyes Brinn’s value has risen. Slightly.

“Enough is enough, Josephine. Come home. You’re needed.” She says needed like it gets caught in her throat and she has to cough it out.

“I’m sorry but I’m not coming home.”

“Ever?” Max looks at me; his eyes wide with surprise because I’m shaking my head long before I even process his question.

“Not to live. I may for a visit every now and again. But...” I laugh and look at Jayne. “This place is more home to me than Connecticut.”

“Hoorah,” she exclaims and reaches across the bar to hug me.

“This is ridiculous. You belong with your family and your people,” Mother says.

“Go home, Mother.” I cross my arms and meet her stare. This time there is no nervousness, no trembling or uncertainty.

“You cannot mean to say you’re staying here?” She gestures around the bar.

“Sure, I mean that.” I don’t correct her and mention my cruise line job.

“You will be disinherited, Josie. I’m not kidding. This has gone on long enough.” My mother rises and tucks her purse under her arm. “I’m staying at the Four Seasons. Come tomorrow and we can make plans regarding your move home.”

I come from behind the bar again and stand before her. “I don’t care that you’ll disinherit me. Frankly, I thought I already was. I still have my trust fund from Granddaddy.” What’s left of it. “But, Mother, I’m not coming home. I have no intention of ever working for Woodmere, Woodmere, and Gardner. I’m sorry. I know that I’ve disappointed you once again, but if I might make a suggestion—if you could stand to see me for who I really am, maybe you’d stop being disappointed.” I want to hug her. I want to find some way across this invisible line that’s been drawn in the sand but I have little faith it will happen.

“Woodmeres for four generations have been practicing law. It’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“You have Stuart.”

“Stuart failed the bar. Twice now.” I might be wrong but I spot a tad bit of sadness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mom. But that’s not home for me anymore.”

She squares her shoulders, straightens her spine, and her nostrils flare, “There are no words for what I’m feeling at this moment, Josephine.”

“You should leave early tomorrow. I’m assuming you flew down on the company jet. We’re expecting some bad weather and you don’t want to get stuck here,” I say.

She steps around me and storms out.

Max looks apologetic. “For what it’s worth, this”—he gestures to me—“looks really good on you. I’m happy for you. But shit, we need help at the firm.”

“I’m sorry.” I give Max a quick hug and watch as he leaves, in no rush to catch up with my mother.

“That’s too bad about him being an ex of yours,” Jayne says.

“He’s pretty good looking,” I agree with her.

“And taller than me,” she says with sadness.

I rub her arm and pull my phone out of my pocket. I text Brinn several messages, which he ignores and irritates the shit out of me.

If I didn’t know he has a crazy schedule tomorrow and needs to get enough sleep to meet FAA guidelines, I’d drive myself over there and kick his door in.

But I don’t. Instead I get off work and go straight home. No drive-bys or midnight stalking for this girl. I force myself to call it a night, believing a good night’s sleep will make everything better in the morning. Only to spend most of the time tossing and turning, punching my pillow, and checking for text messages until I finally pass out from exhaustion.

It makes the day easy when two people who work together and sleep together have a fight and then don’t have to face each other the next day because one of them spends the day outside the office, communicating via email, because he’s a coward. A big giant suck of a coward.

I’ve done all my work and part of Brinn’s, hoping it would settle my frustration. But I finished early and now Zach and I stand at the door of the hangar and stare out at the field toward the runway and the International airport. I had Zach check the flight plans and confirmed that my mother and Max did indeed leave this morning.

The weather looks calm even though the sky is cloudy. I listen to the weatherman on the computer and stare across the horizon.

A hurricane?

“We need to get Brinn involved,” Zach says behind me as he scrolls through various weather reports on his smartphone.

“I texted him and I’ve heard nothing.” It’s the part of Thursday where he disappears, and I have no idea where he goes. Sometimes he shows up later at my place but the gap is there and I’m not unbalanced enough to follow him. I figure he’ll eventually tell me. Maybe he goes to his mom’s gravesite or is taking a foreign language. He has pretty sweet dance moves; maybe it’s because he takes lessons.

“Yeah, he won’t see the text because he’s teaching,” Zach answers.

I turn to look at him. “At the university?”

“Nah, at the Boys and Girls Club in Daytona.”

“What’s he doing there?” That, I never imagined.

Zach shuffles on his feet. “Ah, I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

“How do you even know this?” I’m intrigued.

“That’s how I met Brinn, through the club. My mom works a lot so... Anyway, you should go on down there and get him.”

I hug Zach, another kid from the old neighborhood whom Brinn offered a way out. I can tell he’s embarrassed but I do it anyway.

“I’ll go get him. I’ve backed everything up. You unplug what you can and move computer stuff to the storage room. Put it high up in case of flooding and then go home.” I grab my purse and nearly run to my car.

The drive is quick and only a few cars and Brinn’s old truck are in the parking lot. A few parents are picking up their kids and an employee is standing at the steps looking up at the sky. More clouds are moving in as the bands of the storm race to come ashore.

“I’m looking for Brinn McRae,” I tell the employee.

He sighs, continues to look at the sky, and says, “In the gym” before he puts a walkie-talkie to his mouth.

The Boys and Girls Club is a large building made of concrete blocks. The interior walls are painted with fun murals of kids swimming, playing soccer, taking karate, playing chess, and a large assortment of activities.

Down the hall kids shout out “Yes, Sensei” in unison. I follow the noise as they count in Japanese, and when I look through the doors, they’re performing a series of blocks and kicks all led by Brinn. A black belt is tied around his waist, his uniform white and crisp, and his feet are bare.

“
Hajime
,” he says. “
Ichi. Ni, San, Shi.”
His voice carries across the gym, the kids moving with each count. They’re all in white uniforms with a variety of belts. Some uniforms are dingier than the others but none are wrinkled. They do moves to the count of ten and drop to the mat, bow, and wait for Brinn to continue.

He gives them a pep talk about getting through the tough times, how to be smart in confrontational situations, and to know there’s more than what they have today. When he dismisses them by giving them all high fives, I step from around the door.

He does a double take, and I hope my smile says nothing more than how amazing he is. The fight is not important. It’s just a stupid fight. But this, this is amazing.

“What are you doing here?” he asks quietly and pulls me back into the hallway.

I have so many unanswered questions. “Why didn’t you tell me about the karate and the Boys and Girls Club?”

I know we’ve kept secrets but this is an amazing thing to share. Something to be proud of.

He shrugs and folds his arms behind his back, as if he’s standing at rest. “Why is it you think you need to know everything about me? Until yesterday, I didn’t know everything about you. Like your other ex-fiancé is mega rich with his Rolex watch and sports car.”

“You knew I went to Yale and you’re a smart guy. I figured you’d make the leap that my family has money.”

“I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about Max, the guy you almost married and his net worth. I’m nothing like him. I never will be.”

“Almost married.
Almost
but didn’t.” This conversation is stupid. Doesn’t he realize if I wanted that I’d have it?

“I didn’t share everything with you because we’re just having this, whatever it is.” He gestures between us. “And you’re going to move on and I’m going to still be here doing the same things. I wanted to leave something untouched by you.”

“Really? This?” I mimic his gesture, ticked that he’d reduce what we’ve shared to something he can’t even put to words. “Whatever this is? Is that what you said? Is that what you think? This is ‘whatever?’ Because at its very core it’s a pretty good friendship. A genuine liking for each other.”

We’ve shared an intimacy I’ve never experienced before and to do so requires a certain modicum of trust. Yet, he’s defensive about me knowing this and I’m stunned into realizing there’s a strong possibility Brinn doesn’t see beyond the casualness I’ve been so adamant about keeping.

“Yeah, you’re right. We should keep this about the work and sex.” I sound like a bitchy girlfriend but I can’t stop the words from coming out.

“You wouldn’t understand.” His tone is dismissive, making the words condescending.

I slug him in the upper arm. “I wouldn’t understand how you like to foster the self-esteem of kids and give them a life skill and options to think outside of the life they know?” I slug him a second time for good measure. He doesn’t move. Just stands there and takes it.