More Than Anything (Broken Pieces 1)

She finally reached the door, and as she passed Libby, her friend grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“We’ll talk later, okay?” Libby said, and a strangled sob burst from Tina’s lips before she could stop it.

“I’d like that,” she said thickly, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Libby gave her hand one final squeeze and allowed her to pass. Tina shut the door on the way out and stared at it for a long moment before slowly making her way back toward the restaurant. The lunchtime “crowd” had thinned, and she spotted Harris immediately; he was seated at the same table as last time, his head down as he checked his phone.

She walked toward him on wobbly legs and sank down across from him. He lifted his head and smiled when he saw her. The smile was quickly replaced by concern.

“You’re white as a cloud.”

“Sheet,” she corrected, and he rolled his eyes.

“It still works. Anyway, you’re pale. Are you okay?”

“I think maybe I was . . . I was too mean to Greyson.”

His eyebrows darted up to his hairline.

“I don’t think anybody in the history of the world has ever used that combination of words in that order before. At least not in relation to my brother. Nobody. Like ever.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m serious.”

“Me too. What did you say to him?”

“He told me—me—that I didn’t have a right to an opinion on his relationship with Libby.” She shook her head, still galled by the nerve of him. Harris snorted in amusement.

“What an idiot. I assume you set him straight?”

“Oh yes. So many missed doctors’ appointments to catch him up on. Falls, miscarriage fears. Baby falling. Baby getting sick. Baby’s first smile . . . I was there. He wasn’t. How dare he say I don’t have the right to an opinion?”

“He’s a moron, but I’m sure he knows better now.”

“I feel bad. He looked shell shocked.”

“Good,” Harris said, his voice filled with relish.

“I think maybe he was crying. At least a little.”

“Nah. Greyson doesn’t cry.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. But only ever a single man tear, which usually slides stoically down my lean cheek.”

She laughed and chucked a paper napkin at him. The gesture reminded her that she needed to sort out the napkin shortage. But she couldn’t get anything done with Greyson and Libby in her office. Which meant she was free for lunch.

“Did you order yet?” she asked.

“I was about to. Are you joining me?”

“I think so. Ranting at your brother does work up quite an appetite.”

He laughed, and Tina liked that she’d caused that genuinely happy sound.

“Sorry I couldn’t join you for coffee this morning,” Harris said after they had placed their orders. “I had an early-morning conference call.”

Tina bit back a laugh at his nerve. He knew she barely tolerated his company in the mornings, so he had some cheek apologizing for not interrupting her blessed solitude that morning. Although, if she was being completely honest, Tina had kind of, maybe, in just the tiniest of ways, missed him that morning.

She had been a little disappointed not to find him already waiting for her, but she had fully expected him to join her later, and when he didn’t, she had felt more than a little deflated. Still, she would never admit as much to him.

“You don’t have to explain. I mean, it’s not like I noticed,” she lied without a single qualm.

“Well,” he said, the glint in his eyes telling her he didn’t believe her lie at all, “I thought I’d tell you anyway.”

Thankfully Suzie chose that moment to bring their food—seafood pasta for her and ostrich medallions with cranberry jus and roasted vegetables for him—offering enough distraction for Tina to organically shift the subject to something else.

They talked about nonsensical things while they ate their lunch. Libby and Greyson exited the office together ten minutes after Tina had left them. Libby, to Tina’s relief, looked none the worse for wear and headed straight back to the kitchen with a wave to Harris and Tina and not another word to her estranged husband.

Greyson stopped by their table. He was pale but had himself under rigid control.

“I’m headed back to the house,” he said, avoiding Tina’s gaze and keeping his eyes on Harris.

“You’re not having lunch?” Harris asked, concern in his voice, and Greyson shook his head.

“I’ll grab something at the house.”

“Have some lunch with us, Greyson,” Harris said, insisting.

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Well, do you want the car?” Harris asked, reaching into his pocket for his car keys.

“That’s fine. I’ll walk.”

“Looks like it’s going to rain again.”

“Harris, I’m fine!” It was the closest Tina had ever seen him get to losing his patience. “I have to get some work done. I’ll be watching Clara at Olivia’s place while she’s working tonight.”

The revelation had both Tina and Harris gawking at him in disbelief.