Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“So why don’t you date?” he asks, bringing us back to where we left off as we entered the restaurant.
“I’m busy,” I reply in a knee-jerk response.
He doesn’t say anything but my words hang in the air. It’s like I can see them, I can truly look at them, and I can also see how they’re bullshit.
“It’s less complicated,” I add.
“Not letting people in is a good way of protecting yourself.”
What’s he talking about? “I’m one of the most well-connected people in New York. I have more contacts in my phone than—”
“I’m not talking about how many people you shake hands with. How many people in a year you go to breakfast, lunch, and dinner with. I’m talking about letting people in. Your walls are so high, Ben. I don’t know if I could climb them, even if I didn’t think you’d push me off at the top before I could get in—which I totally do.” He smiles, but his expression is full of pity.
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I’m doing just fine.” How could Bray feel sorry for me? I’m thriving. I’m at the top of my game. There’s no one who’s anyone on the East Coast who doesn’t know who I am, who wouldn’t come to me if they needed something. Everything I’ve planned out since I was a kid has come to fruition. Bray should be cheering me, not pitying me.
“Except you miss Avril,” he says, and it’s like he’s poked me on the shoulder and it’s tipped me off a ledge and I’m in free fall.
The waitress comes and I haven’t even looked at the menu. Somehow, I manage to refocus and pick out the French onion soup followed by the steak au poivre.
I hand my menu back to the waitress. I expect us to be able to move on and not talk about Avril anymore, but Bray just sits there, looking at me, waiting for me to respond.
I hate to admit it, but he’s right. I do miss having her around. It didn’t take me long to get used to having someone in my space. But our deal is done. She’s moved on. “Avril stayed with me for a reason. Now she’s moved on. Out, I mean.”
“And you can’t be unhappy about it, because you set the rules, right? Just like all these people you know, who rely on you for help with their business. You can’t be unhappy when they don’t try to climb over your walls, because that was never the deal. They were never supposed to. They came to you for something and you provided it. They didn’t need to scale the walls for that to happen and you don’t need to be disappointed that they didn’t try.”
His words roll like thunder in my chest. “I’ve deliberately set myself up not to depend on people so I never lose my business.”
“I know,” he says.
“No one can take away what I’ve built because it doesn’t depend on anyone but me.”
“Right. You’re up there in your tower alone. No one can hurt you, but it makes it pretty difficult to love you, too.”
It’s like a knife twisting in my gut. What he’s saying makes perfect sense, but I’m not sure I can take in the full meaning. It’s too much, too powerful, too dangerous. Like, if I was to think about what he’s saying properly, I might explode…or disintegrate.
Luckily for me, we’re interrupted by our appetizers arriving.
“That looks incredible,” Bray says, as the waitress sets down my soup, topped with crunchy bread and melted cheese. He’s right. It looks great. I can’t remember the last time I ate this. It might have been years before, when I was in Paris.
“What did you go for?” I ask him about his appetizer, temporarily released from the mental gymnastics I’m performing in my head.
“Snails,” he says.
I do my best not to wince.
“They’re really good here.”
My brother, the sports-bar guy, likes snails?
“Have you deliberately kept yourself at a distance from me over the years?” I ask. “I don’t feel like I know you at all.”
Bray takes a forkful of food and looks at me while he chews, like he’s really considering my question. He swallows and then says, “Maybe.” He pauses. “Yes. I think I didn’t want to be dependent on you to save me.”
What he’s saying sounds similar to what Avril said about the reason she wanted to get the Boston hotel. She wanted to prove herself without her siblings’ help.
“But it was more than that,” Bray adds. “I also felt distance from you, and then, as I followed your career, I understood pretty quickly that you were only successful if someone wanted something from you. I didn’t want to be someone else wanting help from you. I just wanted to be your brother.”