Junk Mail(47)

My gut tightens like I just took a punch to the stomach. “What, are you saying you think she’s already moved on?”

Claire shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m just saying it’s not out of the realm of possibility. So, whatever you do, you’d better do it fast.”

I give up on sipping my coffee and slam what’s left in the mug, then check my watch. “Is seven hours from now fast enough?”

Claire’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Are you telling me you’re gonna turn your ass back around and drive back to Manhattan already?”

When she says it out loud, it makes me sound like a lunatic. But judging by the feeling in my gut, it’s what I need to do. I need to talk to Brody and find out what he said to Peyton when I left the front end of the project. I need to know what kind of damage I need to repair in order to win this girl back.

That is, if I’m not too late.

“First, you’re going to take a nap,” Claire tells me, rising to her feet. “And then I’ll see if I can help you make a plan.”

I nod and follow her inside.





Chapter Twenty-Five


Josh



In our time running this business, Brody and I have logged more than our fair share of Saturday night meetings. As co-founders of the company, we don’t get the luxury of keeping work to a Monday through Friday grind. The one perk? When you’re the boss, there’s nobody to stop you from swapping out an office chair for a bar stool.

When I call Brody on my drive home and suggest we grab a drink tonight, I can tell by his attitude that he’s expecting an evening of more work than play.

And he’s not far off the mark. We can’t talk about what went down between Peyton and me without talking through the details of the last few weeks of work. But little does Brody know that we won’t be chatting about profit margins or marketing plans tonight. We’ve got much bigger fish to fry.

I’m a few sips away from polishing off my first well-deserved beer of the night when Brody makes his entrance. A glass of whiskey neat is already waiting for him on the other side of the table. I can be a good friend sometimes.

“You look exhausted, dude,” Brody says as he slides into his seat.

I scoff. “Not even a hi, how are ya? Some friend you are.”

I tap my longneck bottle against his glass, then down the rest of my beer as he samples his whiskey. The hops go down smooth and easy, taking the edge off the twelve and a half hours I’ve spent behind a steering wheel today.

Brody and I spend a few minutes shooting the shit, catching up on the ins and outs of our everyday lives. It’s been a while since we’ve talked as friends instead of business partners. He tells me he’s been spending more time at the gym, even when I’m not there to make him lift heavy. I’m glad he’s been doing just as well outside of the office as in it. I wish I could say the same for me.

“Enough about me,” Brody says, wincing from another sip of whiskey. “What’s going on with you, man? You look like you were hit by a bus. You need to get laid or something?”

I slouch into my seat, killing the last swig of my beer. “I wish it were that easy. Actually, I need to clear the air with you about what went down with Peyton. I need to know what exactly you told her.”

Brody squints at me, trying to get a read on my intentions. “What? Are you seriously that hung up on her or something?”

“Just answer the question, Brody.”

He looks up at the ceiling, drumming his fingers on the table as he tries to remember, then gives up with a sigh and a shrug. “Sorry, man. I really don’t think I remember the exact conversation.”

“Well, think a little harder,” I growl, causing Brody to flinch at my sudden shift in mood.

“Sheesh.” He snorts, then thinks on it another second. “I don’t know, something along the lines of you asking me to take you off the project.”

I pause, waiting for him to keep going. But no, that’s all he’s got. Great.

“That was it? You just told her I didn’t want to work with her anymore? Nothing else?”

My best friend is looking at me like I’m sprouting a second head. “Uh, yeah? I just told her the truth. You told me you weren’t going to be the point of contact anymore. And when she asked about you not responding to her texts, I just told her she probably wouldn’t be hearing from you in a while.”

Jesus Christ. Brody might be savvy as hell in the business world, but sometimes, I think this dude must be socially inept. Thanks to him, I may as well say sayonara to my relationship.

If I can even call it a relationship. I’m starting to question whatever it was that Peyton and I had.

What do you call it when you start catching feelings for your business partner? A fling? A flirtation? No, it was more than that. But no matter how you label it, it’s long gone now.

“Thanks a lot, numbnuts.” I sigh, nodding at the bartender to bring me another beer. “Now she hates my fucking guts.”

“Why do you care? I thought you didn’t want to talk to her anymore.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Did you listen to a word I had to say that day I was late to the office?” When I snap at him, he gives me a look of utter confusion.

Can he seriously be this oblivious?