Kiss her.
Kiss her.
Jessa stepped into the elevator, lifting a brow. “So Ididn’tneed a key for the fancy elevator?”
I shook my head. “Not to go down.”
The doors slid shut then, hiding her knowing smile from view until I was staring at my own reflection in the polished metal. I ignored the thumping of my heart and went back into the kitchen.
“What were you two doing up here?” Trace asked.
“She had a tzatziki incident,” I said.
“Is that a euphemism or…”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “No. And besides, what I’m doing up here with Jessa is the least of your concern. Even though it was just stain removal.”
Trace looked like he didn’t believe me. “Sure. Now, let’s just cut the crap. Let me come down there and strategize with you guys.”
“Ireallydon’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m part of the fucking business,” he said forcefully, stepping closer. “I’m part of the fuckingfamily.”
“I’m not trying to cut you out,” I said. “But I know how fucking mad Axel is right now. If you go down there, nothing is going to get better or advance. It will just grind to a halt. And you know it too.”
Trace grunted, flexing his hand into a fist repeatedly. “He can’t stay mad forever.”
“You think? Trace, he might not ever talk to you again.” Emotion pinched my throat unexpectedly, and I looked away. “I’m not lying about that. He’s angrier than I’ve ever seen him.”
“Are you that mad at me too?”
His question caught me off guard. I was so used to being the mediator, I barely remembered that I had my own opinion. I swallowed hard. “I am. But I also get it. So I’m…I don’t know. I’m caught in the middle. That’s what I am.”
“True to form,” he muttered.
“Listen, it’s probably for the best if you go back to Harlem tonight,” I told him. “Or maybe your place upstate. If Axel even comes back here tonight, I think we all just need some time to cool off. You know?”
Trace’s jaw flexed as his gaze settled on me. “You’re gonna kick me out of my own house now?”
“Not kicking you out,” I said. “But you gotta admit, some space would help things. You dropped a big bomb today. And you can’t fault us for needing some fucking time to sort through the rubble.”
“What rubble is there?” Trace demanded, pounding his fist on the island. “You guys know everything there is to know. What more can I say?”
“You can say nothing,” I said. “That’s what we want. Let us be pissed. We thought we were a team. That we were moving through life with the same set of data. But you had different data, and chose not to share it with us.” I jabbed my finger at him. “That’s the fucking rub, Trace. If it looks and smells like betrayal, what the fuck do you think it is?”
He scowled. “I never betrayed you guys. It was the fucking opposite. I worked my ass off for my entire life to be loyal to us. To our family. To keep this shit together.”
I waved away his words. We weren’t getting anywhere, and there was too much waiting to be figured out downstairs. “Please. Give us some fucking space.”
“You’ll fucking get it,” Trace spat. “Don’t worry.”
He stormed out of the kitchen. The space between my ears throbbed as I headed for the elevator.
My entire life, my family had been a mountain—the landmark that guided my efforts and grounded me to the earth. First as a Haynes, then as a Fairchild.
But now?
My mountain had cracked. The rift had formed.