Fake It List

Twenty Eight

The house was awesome. Noah showing up, along with this inexplicable need to show his staff how much he appreciated them, gave Chris the idea to rent something beachside. They could have done a restaurant or someone's house with a caterer, but he really wanted them to let their guards down. You want to get to know them better. All of them. He wasn't getting attached; he was just doing what any good boss would.

"Dude. This place rocks. Maybe I should buy this," Noah said, looking around. The two-storey, almost-beachfront property was available for staff parties, weddings, vacations, or whatever else people could come up with.

"Maybe you should figure out what you want to do before you purchase anything," Chris countered.

Noah opened the double doors off the galley-style kitchen. Crisp ocean air wafted through, easing leftover tension out of Chris's shoulders. He'd intended for Jane to take care of the details, but once he'd started, he wanted to finalize everything himself. He wasn't sure why it mattered so much to him, but once an idea struck, Chris couldn't let it go until he saw it through.

"Not all of us have had our lives mapped out since we were kids," Noah said, bringing Chris back into the conversation.

Grabbing a couple of beers from the party-size fridge, Chris brought them out to the deck and stood at the rail beside his brother.

"Nothing wrong with a plan. It'd stop you from wondering where to go next," Chris said, clinking his bottle to Noah's.

"Yeah. That's one way to look at it," Noah said, taking a drink.

Chris glanced at his watch. He had a caterer showing up shortly, and then the staff would be here soon. They had time to sit around, shoot the breeze. It felt like forever since he'd done just that. The fact that some of his favorite people would spend the evening with him was a huge bonus.

"What's another?" Chris glanced at Noah.

"It's good to have a plan and all, but not if you never look up."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why do you want to be like him so much?"

Chris reared back slightly. How they went from talking about the house to their father was beyond him. "What the hell, Noah? I bring you a beer and you insult me?"

Noah half smiled. Chris was only partially joking, though.

Turning so he could rest against the banister, Noah looked Chris straight in the eyes. "You sure the plan you laid out for yourself is still what you want?"

Irritation prickled along the back of his neck. "Of course it is. You think I worked this hard, bounced around fixing company after company, just so I could keep doing it?"

Noah tipped his beer back, fine with making Chris wait for his answer. "I don't think you should have had to jump through any of those hoops in the first place. None of us should have. You seem happy here, man. Do you even know that?"

Chris shook off his unease, taking a long drink of the beer that no longer tasted good. "I'm a happy guy. Why wouldn't I be?"

"No. You seem happy here."

"I'm not meant to stay here, Noah. This was always temporary." Even if saying it put a clutch in his chest.

Noah rolled his eyes. "Because that was the plan."

Chris set his bottle down hard on the rail. "Yes, it's the fucking plan. What's wrong with that? What are you getting at? There's nothing wrong with the path I'm on. It's you who is aimlessly wondering what to do next because Dad said no to some warehouses. Speaking of being like him, you're one to talk. You jump from one goddamn thing to the next wondering why you're not satisfied. Stand still and maybe you will be."