“Tomorrow?” She raises a brow at me.
I nod coming up with a plan. “I’m swamped at work until Wednesday, but I can start getting things ready tomorrow.”
“Getting things ready for what?”
I smile wide. “It’s time we bring back family cookouts. Charlotte, I’m done being gentle with him. It’s time for some tough love.”
She starts to nod slowly. “I’ll take the kids out of school early and call Amelia and Edward to help.” She looks up at me, holding her teacup out. “Wednesday?”
I lean forward in my chair, clinking my cup against hers. “It’s a plan.”
I whistle my way through Carter Enterprise’s lobby, nodding at the security guards who know me. I press the button for the elevator and wait, smiling at the three other guys waiting, too.
The doors open and I wave them ahead of me as we all press the button for our floors. I wait patiently until the doors open again. Catiya—Tris’s personal assistant—flits out from behind her desk.
“Mr. Cole, I’m sorry but you—”
“Excuse me, Catiya, I’m going to see my friend,” I say gleefully, ignoring her protests as I push open the door to his office.
The sound of the door banging off the wall echoes throughout the room and his gaze snaps up from his desk.
He frowns at me before growling out, “Nate.”
I don’t care that he doesn’t want me here, this is the first time I’ve seen him in weeks and I’m not leaving unless it’s with him in tow.
“Tris,” I say, shutting the door behind me and leisurely walking over to the crystal decanter containing the expensive whiskey he offers to clients. “It feels like it’s been forever.”
“It’s been a couple of weeks,” he grinds out.
With my back turned away from him so he can’t see my face, I smile; I’m done with his shitty mood swings and I’m about to dish up a serving of tough love.
After offering him one of the glasses I pour, I sit down in one of the plush leather sofas in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching as indecision and annoyance dances on his face.
He sighs before pushing his chair back and walking over to me, taking the glass from my hand and placing it on the edge of his desk without taking a sip. He pushes his hands into his pockets and stares out the window, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“So, what’s been going on?” I ask casually.
He tears his gaze away from the windows, tension lining his expression. We stare at each other for another beat before he says, “Pete tried to turn the board against me.”
Of course I already know this from Charlotte, but I pretend not to.
“You’re shitting me!” I chuckle and drink the rest of my drink, standing up to pour another. “What happened?”
He tells me about Pete arranging a secret meeting with the board and mentions the kids’ art show—one I should’ve received an invite to, but didn’t. My jaw ticks. “Would’ve been nice if you had invited me.”
He blows out a breath. “I didn’t think it necessary after the stunt you pulled at the recital.”
“I did nothing wrong and you know it, stop being an ass.” I sit down on the sofa again, deciding to steer the subject into neutral territory. I need to keep him talking properly before I lose him. “How’s the kiddiwinkles?”
He clears his throat but doesn’t turn around as he says, “They’re good.”
“We
haven’t spent any proper time together in a while, we should do something fun!” His shoulders tense up, but I continue on anyway. “How about a cookout!”
He turns around, his face a mask of confusion. He seems to think about it but I see the very moment he shuts the idea off in his head before he barks out, “No, I’m busy.”
He plays with his suit jacket, ignoring me. I’m done being nice. “You know what.” I slam my glass down on the table in front of me and stand up, pointing at him. “You need to get your shit together.”