Fake It List

Eight

Chris let himself into his condo, juggling the take-out bag he'd picked up on the way home. The lack of sleep coupled with the adrenaline of a kick-ass idea was catching up with him. Maybe he could blame those things for asking Reysha out to dinner. Setting the food and beer down, he shrugged out of his coat, tossed it on a barstool, and opened a beer. Taking a long swallow, he let out a sigh that loosened all the tension from his shoulders.

There'd been a moment there, when his breath had caught tightly in his lungs and he'd hoped like hell she'd take him up on the offer of dinner. Thankfully, she was more sensible than he was.

It would have been a work dinner, he reminded himself. The problem was, he had to keep reminding himself of their strictly professional and platonic relationship. When she left, the confusion in her gaze made him hate himself, but it was better that she thinks he was a hot-and-cold jerk of a boss than know how very much he would have liked to take her out.

Stop it, he demanded of himself. He had a lot to celebrate.

Overall, it had been a damn good day. Transferring his tandoori chicken to a plate, he took his beer, his food, and his phone to the couch. The apartment was more than he needed. The kitchen and living area were one large room with high ceilings and lots of windows to let in the Naperville sunshine. He had a couch, coffee table, and big-screen television with surround sound. The basic necessities as far as he was concerned. He had a king-size bed and a dresser in the master bedroom. Other than that, he hadn't bought anything. No point when he was heading back to New York.

He liked Chicago. After living on the East Coast all his life, it was sort of a culture shock. It wasn't hard to get used to the sunshine, though. Turning on the news, he muted it and dialled his brother's number, putting it on speaker.

"Hey. How's it going?" Noah asked, his voice filling the room.

Chris spoke around a mouthful of chicken. "Not too bad. You?"

"Same old. Just purchased a couple of warehouses in the Heights. I planned to turn one into apartments and the other into a community centre. Gramps would have loved them, and it's time to give back to the community."

"It's a great idea." He thought of Reysha's apartment. Their grandfather had been born in New Jersey and would have loved the concept. "Renovating it into something else keeps the original charm but brings new life." Unfortunately, he knew how this story played out. "Which part did Dad squash?"

"What the hell is the point of him giving us the lead on projects just to tell us no?" There were muffled sounds of his brother moving around as he spoke through his irritation.

Swallowing his bite, he took a quick sip of beer before attempting an answer. "I'm sure, in his mind, the reasons are plenty. My guess is the only person he likes to give back to is himself. You off-loading the warehouses?"

"Probably. Maybe I'll keep them. I have my own money, so it's not like I can't buy them, but it pisses me off that he won't let us put our own spin on things. It's time to branch out. Do more." He hated the frustration in Noah's voice. "It's such a waste. Whatever. Same old. What's going on with you? How's life in radio? You figure things out?"

"Actually, you guys gave me some ideas. I need you to talk to Ari, though."

"How long you think Dad can pretend she's not old enough to get her act together?"

Chris stabbed another piece of chicken. "Not sure. But I need you to run interference for me. Send her on a spa week, something. Anything to distract her. I need time to get something in place so I can show him there's no room for Ari to step in." Though it wouldn't surprise him if Ari just dropped the idea and moved on to something else. All the more reason not to let her inside his station.