Only One Night (Only One 3)

“I could have sworn I mentioned it to you,” my brother says, walking into the office, and I was right about the jeans. He is two years older than me, and we have always been very, very close. He made sure everything was ready for me when I finally moved here. He and Veronica are my ride or die people.

“Lies, Timothy.” I use his full name, and he laughs. “All lies.”

“How about I make it up to you by cooking for you tomorrow?” He sits on one of the chairs in front of my desk. “Caleb has a hockey game at eleven, so how about you spend the day with us?” He mentions my eight-year-old nephew.

“I might be able to forgive you if you grill me a steak and baked potato,” I tell him, knowing it’s the only food he actually knows how to cook and do it well.

“I can invite Mom and Dad,” he says, taking out his phone and typing something. Then he looks at his calendar. “Shit, I have hockey tickets tomorrow.”

“Fun,” I say sarcastically. “That’s fine. How about we do lunch, and maybe I can take my nephew to see a movie and have a sleepover?”

“Ooh.” He looks up. “That would give Veronica and me some alone time.”

“Ew,” I say. “Ew, ew, ew.” He laughs, getting up.

“Lunch works but let’s do a family lunch on Sunday. It can be your welcome home meal.” He walks to the door.

“We’ve had that five times already.” I remind him of all the dinners we’ve had since I got here. “Besides, I have a bridesmaid fitting on Sunday, so . . .”

“Oh, that’s right. How was the bachelorette party?” he asks. Manning’s face flashes in my head, but it’s not just any face that I see. Nope, it’s the one with him pounding into me as his hair falls onto his forehead.

“It was uneventful,” I finally say, swallowing the memory. My phone rings, saving me from talking more about the weekend.

My father peeks his head in about thirty minutes later, and now I don’t feel as bad since he’s dressed in slacks and a button-down with a sweater over it. “Hey there, sunshine,” he says, and I smile. “We have five meetings today.”

“I just saw my schedule,” I tell him, getting up to hug him. “You are not messing around with passing on the baton,” I tell him, and he hugs me tight. I turn back to my desk, grabbing a legal pad and a pen. “Let’s get a head start,” I tell him, and we walk to the conference room with his arm around me.

The five meetings go smoothly; all his clients were comfortable with the switch. I mean, semi-comfortable. At least they want to see what I have to offer. I reassure them that I have their best interests at heart and promise to send them my plan of action, so that gets them on board.

When the last client leaves at four, I’m ready to burn these shoes.

“That went better than I expected,” my father says, walking back into the conference room with me. “He was a hard nut to crack, to begin with.” He mentions his oldest client. “But you have him eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“No.” I shake my head. “The fact he is going to make more money is what got him eating out of my hand.”

My father throws his head back and laughs. “Money. It makes the world go round.”

I look at him. “True story. I knew coming here would be almost like starting over, and I’d have to prove myself to all of your clients.” I smile at my father. “And to be honest, I was excited about the challenge. This is going to push my portfolio out of the water with all these different clients. Who knows, I might be the most sought-after person at this firm.” I clap my hands. “Tim would die.” We both laugh now.

“How are you settling in?” he asks.

“Good,” I say, and he just stares at me. “Okay, fine.” I throw up my hands. “It’s an adjustment, but I have to admit I’m happy to be home. This is where I want to be. I want to meet someone and for them to be close to my family. I want to be able to go shopping with Mom.” He smiles. “I’m just happy to be home.” I smile. I don’t add that I might have found someone who he would love because I don’t even know this man’s last name.

“Any news from Dex?” Just the name makes my skin crawl. It also shocks me that I haven’t thought about him this whole week. Not once did he enter my mind. Not once did I wonder if I did the right thing. Not once did I miss him.