“My apology or the lead on this project?”
“I see I’m not the only one who’s tenacious,” she replied, enjoying the collegial banter.
It didn’t fix everything, but it sure felt good, and she couldn’t wait to tell her daddy. And Maddie of course. She wanted to tell Lolo too, but she hadn’t talked to him since he left. It was too hard and besides, she didn’t want to bother him.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Well, Harvey, I like a man who can admit when he’s wrong.” Hopefully Lolo would see the error of his ways and come home soon. Like, yesterday levels of soon. “So I accept both your apology and the lead on the project.”
“Excellent. I’m looking forward to working with you again, and if you ever decide to leave Lloyd Surry, you’ve got my number.”
* * *
Lowell
“Lo. You’ve got to come home.”
“I am home,” he ground out, looking around his mid-century modern living room. It was stylish and retro in a way he’d always loved, and it made women fall into his arms, his lap, his bed. But right now it felt cold, sterile. Like the set of a movie instead of where he lived his life. He knew why, too, and so did Hux. Fucker.
“You’re fucking not. You’re in that Mad Men swingers pad of yours, and if I thought you could be happy there I’d leave you alone. I’d do whatever it took to fill the gaps you’re leaving and maybe I’d manage to muddle through and make Tamsyn happy. But you’re not happy, I’m not happy, and she is miserable. You’ll be happy to know things have gotten better at her job, but aside from that, she’s worse. If you could see her, Lo…”
If he could see her, he wouldn’t be able to stay away. And that was part of the problem.
“She misses you. So much. She thinks I don’t hear her, but she cries for you at night. She’s too sweet to ask but whenever my phone rings, her head snaps up because she thinks it’s you. I know you’re a total bastard—”
“You’ve counted on it,” he shot back.
“Goddamn right I have. But you don’t have to do that anymore. I dropped out of that race and so can you.”
“You didn’t drop out. You literally dropped dead. I was there. I counted the seconds you didn’t have a heartbeat. I felt you go and when you came back I felt like I could breathe again. You didn’t have a choice, but I do. And what if I need this? I’m glad you’re content to play daddy to Tamsyn twenty-four-seven, but what if I’m not? What if I’m a shark and I die if I stop swimming?”
It wouldn’t be as startling and drastic as when Hux had keeled over, but he’d be just as dead. Maybe he’d look alive, be able to go through the motions of living but what the hell good would that be—wouldhebe—if he was dead inside? Maybe that’s what Hux and Tamsyn thought they wanted but they were wrong. They wouldn’t need him anymore, like him anymore, love him anymore. If they loved and needed him now, which he wasn’t so sure about.
“First of all,” Hux said, “I’m not playing and neither is she. Maybe you want to deny it, but you aren’t either. You need this, you need us. Or hell, maybe you just need her, but you can’t tell me you feel whole right now.”
Lowell didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. He knew Hux and Tamsyn weren’t playing. The way they were together made it clear that the way they were outside of Daddy and his little kitten was when they were really putting on an act. But for him? It wasn’t quite the same.
Also, he didn’t enjoy being interrupted and Hux was one of those jack wagons who, when he started a diatribe with “first of all,” was damn well going to have a second point. At least. Probably more like a dissertation that required a table of contents.
“Second, you think you need your ambition, and I don’t entirely know your mind so maybe you do. But there are ways to get it without working for Cabot. You know that, right? Anyone in the beltway would sell a kidney to have you on their side. You’re a fucking genius, and I don’t think I ever said that enough.”
Something inside his chest swelled until it broke wide open. Of course he’d known Hux appreciated him. And Lowell had known his good guy older brother wouldn’t have survived the rest of the term in the house never mind got re-elected time after time without his help.
It wasn’t like Hux never said anything to that effect either. He wasn’t one to withhold affection or praise and people loved him for it. His open, genuine, and true brother. Twin. The light to his dark, the generous to his stingy.
He shook his head, knowing Hux couldn’t see him.
“How is me being in DC any better? How is me working for someone who isn’t Cabot any better? I still couldn’t…”
He made a frustrated sound, thinking about how Tamsyn would straddle his thighs, wrap her arms around his neck and blink those big hazel eyes and bite her lip. He missed the smell of her, the weight of her, every fucking thing about her.
“No one would give a shit about you if you weren’t working for the family. You’d be just another beltway operative. Do you really mind the shadows? Is that what this is about? I’ll help you campaign for office myself if you want but that’s never seemed to be something you were interested in.”
“It’s not,” he grumbled, and dropped his head into his palm before raking his fingers through his hair. “But you said it yourself. I’m very good. Working for someone other than Cabot would be a betrayal. You can argue all you want I wouldn’t have to hurt him, but you know he wouldn’t see it any other way.”
“Fuck Cabot.”
“Whoa, thought you were all about family.”
It wasn’t fair, the snide tone he’d taken. Hux loved his family more than anyone else he knew, and his definition of family spanned far wider than anyone else’s too. That was one reason his constituents had adored him, because they could feel Huxley’s dedication, his genuine concern. He truly wanted the best for everyone.
“Don’t be such a little shit,” Hux snapped, and guilt turned Lowell’s stomach.
They were silent for a minute, both seething and angry and stubborn.
“I have to go,” his brother finally said. “Tamsyn’s going to be home soon and I have to clear my head. Be good for her.”
He left the“especially because you’re not here to help”unsaid, but Lowell didn’t think it would’ve hurt any worse for him to say it out loud. This sucked, it all fucking sucked. For all his talent in getting other people out of sticky situations, he’d never been particularly good at climbing out of the quicksand of failure himself.
Since he was a fucking disgusting good-for-nothing derelict and good manners weren’t going to solve any of that, he hung up the phone without saying goodbye. Mostly because he didn’t trust his voice to be steady when he bid Hux what he imagined to be his final farewell.