The Price Of Scandal(88)

Why did people feel the need to keep pointing that out?

Of course being hands-on in a lab surrounded by other nerds was more exciting than my ass going numb in a meeting about other people’s work. But I was a CEO. I steered the ship, not stoked the engines. I maintained the vision.

“I enjoy dabbling,” I said carefully. Off the record or not, this was a piece of my life that I kept quiet. “But I’m not the focus here.”

“Said the woman on hour two of her photo shoot,” she reminded me.

“What I mean,” I said dryly. “Is the focus here is on education and process. Not who owns what and what her hair looks like today. I opened these doors so kids who want to learn and so fellow nerds who don’t have access to their own state-of-the-art lab space can have a place to experiment and grow.”

“Okay. Fine. Tell me something I can use on the record about DIY labs,” she said.

“Big things are coming out of DIY labs every day. They don’t need grants and funding and can specialize in areas that private companies and Big Pharma aren’t interested in. DIY labs are the future of disease eradication because they can take the business out of science. They can develop a cheap malaria vaccine or study antibiotic resistance because there’s no large corporation behind them making decisions based on profits and losses.”

“So what’s this DIY lab working on?” she pressed.

“Ms. Stanton, we’re ready for you,” the assistant director called from the gray backdrop they’d erected.

“That’s need to know,” I told her, starting for the front of the room. “And it’s pretty freaking cool.”

“Tease.”

My phone signaled again in my pocket. Trey again.

“I just need a second,” I told the assistant and ducked out into the hallway. “Trey, what’s up? I’m in the middle of something.”

“Hey, listen. Is that offer for some cash still good?”

We hadn’t spoken since the gala. More specifically, since his hissy fit at the gala. And I hadn’t actually offered him cash then. But that was just like Trey.

I thought about Derek, his family, about Jane and Cam and Luna and Daisy. I shoved my hand through my hair and remembered. I was a badass.

“Actually, Trey. I’m busy, and there was no offer. There won’t be an offer. It’s time for you to figure your own shit out.”

“Whoa, someone gets herself an edgy haircut and suddenly thinks she’s above it all. Real dick move, Ems.”

My brother was so used to getting what he wanted, he wasn’t even capable of asking nicely. It was sad, disgusting.

“You would know,” I said, keeping my voice low. “You don’t think of me as a sister. You think of me as a blank check. You don’t even know what family is supposed to be.”

“Let’s be real. None of us do. Not our fault. Listen, I’m in trouble, Em. The festival fell through, and there’s not enough money for refunds. Lawyers are involved.”

I closed my eyes. Took a breath. My adult brother was not my responsibility. I couldn’t fix him. My money, my help couldn’t make him a better brother, a better son, and a better person. The only chance he had was suffering the consequences of his actions.

“It’s your mess to clean up.”

He sputtered into my ear. “You don’t get it. This is serious shit. They’re talking fraud charges.”

My heart clenched in my chest.

I could probably make this go away. I could save him. But it would cost me. And not just money. And in the end, it would cost Trey even more.

“I can’t help you, Trey. But you can handle this.”

The silence was deafening. In it, I heard the cracks that had always existed in our relationship splinter wide open.

“So you’re picking your money over your only brother?” His laugh was mirthless. “That’s heartless, even for you. You’ve got enough to spare.”

“What’s mine is not yours. You haven’t earned anything except trouble. Take your lumps. Get through it. And come out a better person.”

“God. What is your problem?” he snapped, all casual joviality vanished. “You’re my fucking sister. I need help. I need cash. I need lawyers. I need you to wire me the fucking money. A couple hundred thousand. I need you to take care of this!” He sounded desperate yet still so sure that the help was coming.

“Not this time, Trey. Not anymore. I’m done with the bailouts. Call me when you want an actual relationship.”

I wanted to hang up on him, to cut him off mid-tirade. But I also needed to hear him. Hear the names, the threats. Really hear it this time. Because as of this moment, I didn’t have room for my brother in my life. Not as anything more than a casual acquaintance across the dinner table once or twice a year. He was toxic, and I was too busy to be disrespected.

He hung up on a bitter “Fuck you!”

I leaned against the wall, hands falling to my sides. All alone in the middle of two worlds. Ninth graders gleefully sketched out superbugs on whiteboards to my left. To my right, a dozen people were waiting to take pictures of me.

I felt a strange anxiety creeping its way through my system. My reputation was repairing itself. The IPO seemed to be back on track. Everything I’d worked for was coming to fruition. To top it off, I’d finally stood up to one of the most disrespectful people in my life.