Chapter 28
“Hey, Gen. Sorry to disappoint, but you got the handsome Valentine brother today.”
Gen looked up from her computer at the sound of Troy’s voice. She had a meeting with Gavin scheduled, one that was supposed to start in fifteen minutes. They were supposed to divvy up the responsibilities of the expanded committee members and decide who would manage each.
It was, in fact, supposed to be the last meeting of their “committee of two,” and Gen had scheduled it in her own office, surrounded by all of the hustle and bustle of her co-workers as a way of potentially keeping them on track.
Now, it seemed that he wasn’t coming. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she struggled with everything in her not to let the sharp pangs of disappointment stabbing at her gut show on her face. That was the last thing she needed, to look like a just-kicked puppy at the idea of not seeing Gavin. To his own brother.
Yeah, that wouldn’t put ideas in anyone’s head or anything.
So, instead of wearing her heart on her sleeve she pasted a huge smile on her lips and gestured for Troy to sit down in one of the angled visitor’s chairs that sat opposite her desk. “Hell, I’ll welcome the chance to see any Valentine brother, any day of the week. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this upgrade?”
She figured her question was probably pretty transparent, but it was better than what she actually wanted to say, which was, “Where is Gavin, and sidenote, what in the actual fuck is going on here?”
As Troy settled into the chair, he tilted his head to the side and gave her an appraising look. Finally, he said, “Yeah. I was kind of hoping you would answer that question for me rather than the other way around.”
She drew her brows together. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I was kind of hoping you would fill me in on why Gavin sent me here today. He certainly isn’t very forthcoming on the subject.”
Gen toyed with how to respond. She was torn. On the one hand, she still felt very strongly that medical issues– anyone’s medical issues– were private. She didn’t have any siblings, but if she did, she certainly wouldn’t want Gavin running to them and blabbing if he happened to find out that she was sick. Telling people– or, more to the point, not telling people – should be his choice.
Then there was the other side of the equation, though, which was…she really wanted to tell.
Yes, she knew that wasn’t much justification, but there it was. She was burning with the overwhelming desire to unburden herself and spill everything she knew to Troy. Maybe he knew more details than she did and could set her mind at ease. Maybe he didn’t know anything yet, and giving him the information would set off a chain of events that would really help Gavin.
Hell, maybe it would just feel really good to get it off her chest.
She dropped her head onto the fingers of one hand and rubbed her temple. Her brain hurt. Not her head, like a headache. This was her brain. It was being bruised by all the fist-fighting ideas punching each other as they battled for dominance.
“Okay, so I guess you don’t know any more than I do,” Troy said.
She made a split-second decision. Play dumb. Why not, after all? It’s how she’d been feeling for a large percentage of the time lately. She could take full advantage.
“Troy, how could I possibly know why Gavin isn’t here, when you’re the one who told me just now that he wasn’t coming? Up until ten seconds ago, I was under the impression that he was about to come walking through that door.”
“I get that,” Troy responded, leaning back in the chair. “I wasn’t actually talking about this appointment, specifically. More what’s going on in general. Because something is sure as hell going on, and he won’t say a damn word.”
“What do you mean, going on?” Wow. It was so much easier to play dumb than she’d ever imagined it would be.
“Happening. Occurring. Unfolding. I could go on.”
“Please don’t. I have a thesaurus under my desk if I need synonyms, and they get delivered from the pages with significantly less snark.”
Troy laughed. “But what fun would that be?”
“Fair point.”
“For instance, maybe you can whip it out right now so we can look up all the synonyms for deflection.”
“I swear on my life, Troy. I don’t know any more than you do.”
That could theoretically be true, she figured. How would she know how much, or what, he knew? That wasn’t necessarily a lie.
Troy leaned forward, all the casual joviality of a moment before lost in the now-intense set of his shoulders. “He’s my brother, Gen. I’m just worried about him.”
She straightened in her seat, taken aback by his words, and his manner. She and Troy had known each other for their entire lives, but knowing someone a long time did not automatically equal knowing them well. They’d never talked to each other about anything real, or serious. Even after his parents had died and he’d moved back here, all she’d been able to think of to say to him was the most standard of platitudes.
Now, here he was in her office, laying out his worries, and it was clear to her just by looking in his eyes that they were real, and they were deep.
Shit.
Far from setting her mind at ease and making her feel less alone because she and Troy were in this whole “worrying about Gavin” thing together, the knowledge that Troy was as scared as she was sent her into a near-panic.
Dammit, if someone as solid and steady as Troy– not to mention someone who knew Gavin as well as Troy did– was this worried, then it was a good indicator that there was something truly there to be that worried about.
She gave him a crooked half-smile. “Like I said,” she informed him regretfully, “You know as much as I do.”