Fake It List

Thirty Two

Chris grabbed one of the rolling chairs and rammed it into the wall. Yanking at his tie, he pulled it over his head and threw it on the boardroom table. The staff had scattered, and he had no idea what was being played on the radio right now, but none of it mattered.

Noah walked through the door and looked at Chris. "What the hell is going on, man? I saw Reysha run out of the building with Stacey. Your receptionist looks like she saw someone get run over. Mason and Mari are running Stacey's spot."

"Go away, Noah. Now isn't a good time." He picked up his tie and wrapped it tightly around his fist.

"Clearly. What happened?"

"Just go somewhere else, okay? I don't have time to screw around with you. You wouldn't understand, anyway. You jump from one thing to the next without a plan, never stopping for a damn minute to see where you're going. Everything is messed up. I don't want to get into it with you."

Noah pursed his lips, nodding and slamming the meeting room door. He pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, put his hands behind his head, and leaned back.

"First of all, fuck you. Maybe I jump from one thing to the next, but I'm happy with my life. I don't need it color-coded, mapped out to the minute. Besides, this isn't about me. Second, calm the hell down so we can fix what you broke."

"Jesus. You're so much like him sometimes, it drives me nuts. This can't be fixed. I can't throw money at it and make a deal. I can't sweet-talk my way through this, okay?"

"You want to do this now? Okay, then. Back at you, bro. You're more like him than you want to be, too. You don't think outside the box. You're too black and white. You keep things in separate boxes, and when there's spillage, shit blows up, and instead of dealing with it, you wanna shove everything back into the right place."

Chris stopped pacing and stared at his brother. "I have no clue what you just said."

"There's always a solution, Chris. I'm not talking about money. Punch something if you need to. Preferably not me, because I will punch you back. Whatever you gotta do. But pull yourself together. Let's do what we do and figure this out."

"You have no idea what's even going on."

"Nope. But I'm pretty smart, little brother. You're all tied up in knots, your girl ran out of here crying, and your staff looks like a bomb exploded. Seems like they all might have found out about Dad and the business being a stepping-stone."

Chris deflated, his anger morphing into hurt, his heart twisting at his brother's words. "She was crying?"

Noah's face softened. "Not quite, but she looked close. What the hell happened, man?"

Chris sank into his chair and pressed his head back against the cushion, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "I screwed everything up."

He filled his brother in on Mr. Lee, the staff finding out, and his conversation with Reysha.

"It's time to tell Dad to go screw himself. Sometimes I think his real full-time job is messing with us like puppets."

Chris laughed at the analogy. "Little hard to do that when he's holding the strings."

"Cut them, then. We have our own money. You're an excellent businessman. We don't have to live by his decree. I'm not going back, man."

Chris startled. "What?"

"I'm staying. I like it here. I don't want to be in New York anymore. Under his thumb."

Chris leaned forward, dropped his hands between his knees. "You're moving to Naperville. Just like that?"