Hungry For More(3)
“It’s fine. I can stay,” I say, looking down at the set of keys.
“There’s no point in both of us having to wait on the builder. My dad should be here any second and he’s going to give me the plans. I’ll be fifteen minutes behind you, tops. That will give you enough time to say hey to Sage and settle in.”
I feel the grumble of complaint climb up my throat and he holds up his hand to stop me.
“You’re not getting a hotel. My place has more than enough bedrooms, and it will give us a chance to go over work stuff this weekend.”
“I said one night.” I can’t keep the irritation out of my voice.
“No, you agreed to come to my family Thanksgiving dinner for one night. You’re staying at my place until Sunday.”
I clench my teeth and feel my jaw pop. I want to protest, but he’s right. I just thought I could get him to agree that it was only one night and it would be my excuse to get out of there. It’s not that I don’t appreciate his hospitality, but I don’t like being anyone’s charity case.
“Stop doing that or you’re going to break a tooth,” he says, not looking up from his screen.
“I have work I could be doing, too.”
“And you can do that as soon as you get to my place. Sage will have the Wi-Fi password and you can kick back until I get there. Dinner tonight is at seven. I’ll come swing by and get the two of you and then we can go out to eat. We can have an early night tonight and then go to my parents’ in the morning.”
“I thought you said fifteen minutes?” I correct, and he shrugs.
“I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
Again, he doesn’t look up and I sigh. It’s no use because I’m not getting out of this and I regret ever answering him honestly when he asked me if I had plans for the holiday. Next time I’m going to lie and make up a family member.
When I was young I used to pretend my imaginary family spent holidays traveling the world. It was one way to escape the foster family’s house I was stuck in. I remember one Christmas sitting in my room and closing my eyes as I imagined a ski trip in Europe. I even opened the window to make it cold, but as soon as my foster mom found out she yelled at me for wasting the heat and made me give my one present to another kid. I don’t like to think back on the time before I got out of there, but now I really could go to Europe for Christmas if I wanted. I’ve gotten used to being alone and maybe it would be nice by myself.
“Later,” I say as I tuck the keys in my pocket and walk out of the office.
Brian hasn’t told me much about his mom and his sister. I’ve met his dad several times through work, but the company I run with Brian is separate to the one he has with his dad. I met Brian a few years ago when he wanted help running part of his company. I develop software and manage data for several companies across the United States. Brian needed someone to take over that aspect of his job so that he could grow. When I stepped in it was only meant to be temporary, but it only took a couple of years of his constant nagging and I’ve signed on full time. He and his dad manage a ton of industrial properties and warehouses, but his dad mostly manages them while we travel. I can do my job from anywhere, but Brian likes me to be with him as much as possible. I think he knows I’d end up living in a cabin in the woods hundreds of miles from anywhere if he let me. The bastard just loves to nag.
I hail a cab and give him the address of the penthouse, hoping the traffic this time of day isn’t too bad. I’ve never been to his place, but we travel a lot and haven’t been this close to his family in a while. He’s mentioned his sister only a handful of times, and the way he talks about her makes me think she’s skittish. It’s nothing in particular he’s ever said, but I get the impression she’s really young and unattractive. I’ve never seen a picture of her and he’s never said her age, but anytime he’s brought her up it’s always to talk about how she’s not ready to be in the world and that she’s got a nice personality. To me that’s code for sweet and homely. I’m not looking forward to making small talk with a kid.
“Take the tunnel,” I bark at the driver, who looks at me in the rearview before he rolls his eyes.
I wait for him to say something, but he puts his blinker on and does as I ask. I sit back and feel the throb behind my eyes and wonder if a headache is beginning to form. The last thing I want to do is have to meet his weirdo sister when I just want to face plant into a mattress and sleep for a week.
The last data update is scheduled for next month at the end of the quarter, and the system isn’t ready for it. I need to do some coding and test it out, and that’s going to eat up hours of my time. I don’t have time to make nice and eat turkey with his family, but Brian has been good to me and I owe him this much.
When the cab pulls up outside the building, I hand over some cash and grab my duffel bag next to me along with my messenger bag carrying my computers. I don’t have much in the way of clothes, but I do have three laptops that I’ll need over the weekend.
I walk inside and the doorman is there to greet me. Thankfully Brian remembered to put me on the guest list and he sends me up the elevator. I use the key for the penthouse floor and take it all the way up. When I get there there’s a small foyer with a single door and I knock on it. I can hear music on the other side of it and I knock again a little louder. When there’s no answer I grumble as I take out the key again and put it in the lock. If his sister is inside listening to this shit, I’m going to have to find a nice way to tell her to turn that crap down. I can already tell this was a mistake.