A Long Time Coming (Cane Brothers, #3)(9)

“Yes, they’re putting together all the evidence they need to present their case. I don’t think we’re in it for the money because we don’t need it, nor are we in the business of putting people in debt, but Huxley wants to set a precedent. Make sure that people know not to fuck with us.”

“Probably smart because this girl has opened the door to the possibility of lawsuits, and if you end this correctly, no one will want to go up against you.”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.”

“So what’s the problem? Sure, maybe your ego is slightly tarnished, but when has that ever affected you before? Remember the time in college you were mistaken for the third-best Scrabble player rather than the second? You took that like a champ.”

“You’re just full of laughs today, aren’t you?”

“Just trying to cheer you up.” She pulls two Sprites from her fridge and deposits one in front of me, and then she takes the seat next to mine. Our shoulders bump as she gets comfortable. When she picks up her fork with her left hand, bumping into my right, she says, “You took the wrong seat.”

“I was pre-occupied. Deal with it.”

“Are you really going to be grumpy all evening? I was looking forward to a nice night of will we slice our hands open or will we not?”

“I’m sorry,” I huff while pushing the chicken around my plate. “I didn’t mention one thing. The guys said I can’t go to work. I have to take time off until they figure this all out.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you were just granted a vacation, and you’re complaining about that, why?”

“Because people will think I’m in trouble or did something wrong when I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve worked hard to maintain genuine relationships with my employees, and if I’m not there, what will they think of me?”

“I can see why that would bother you,” she says. “You do tend to pride yourself on the way you treat people, and this is a slur to your character.”

“Exactly. It’s really shitty,” I say, my voice growing heavy.

“Hey,” Lia says, turning toward me. “The people who know you will understand the circumstances. They know you’re not some tyrant, running up and down the hallway like a lunatic, yelling at the first person you run into. And the other people, the ones who might believe Gemma, well, they’re not people you want around you anyway.”

“I know you’re right,” I say softly. “Just can’t seem to wrap my head around all of it.”

She pulls me into a hug, and I rest my head against hers. “It will be okay. If anything, Huxley is relentless, and he won’t rest until your name is expunged of any wrongdoing.”

“I guess so.” She releases me, and I let out a low breath. “I’m sorry about all of this. I’m totally bringing down the night.”

“It’s okay. How about we put glass Yahtzee on hold for now in case you have intermittent episodes of rage. We can’t risk the slivers. Want to play cards out on the balcony?”

“Maybe we can watch a show. There’s a new documentary called The King of Kong that I want to watch.”

“Oh, I saw that the other day when I was scrolling through what to watch with Brian,” Lia says, talking about her boyfriend. “I suggested it, and he gave me the side-eye. We ended up watching some sports game.”

“Some sports game?” I laugh. “Not even sure what sport?”

“A ball was involved.”

“Well, that narrows it down.”

She chuckles. “Either way, I’d love to watch it. Shall we start it now? Bring our food over to the couch.”

“If you’re cool with that.”

She tips my chin up and, in a gooey voice, says, “Anything for my pickle.”





“Brian would have hated that documentary.”

That’s because Brian is a douche.

But I keep that comment to myself.

“Yeah, didn’t quite scream something Brian would have enjoyed.”

Lia shifts and then pokes my stomach. “You going to be okay? You’re usually a little more chatty when we watch documentaries.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking. I’ll be good, though.”

“You know, if you need to talk about it, I’m always here.”

“I know.” I take her hand in mine. “Thanks, Lia.”

She gives it a squeeze. “You’re welcome. Now get out of here and go to bed. You look like trash.”

I smirk. “Can always count on you to deliver the truth.” I pull her into a hug and give her a kiss on the top of her head. “Night, Lia.”

“Night, Pickle.”

I let go and then head to my apartment just as she closes her door. I strip out of my clothes, splash some water on my face, and then brush my teeth. Once I’m ready for bed, I plug my phone in to charge, slip under my covers—naked—and then place my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling.

The entire night, I kept wondering why I was so affected by this. I know Huxley will take care of it. I’ve been getting texts from him all night about how we’re going to make sure Gemma doesn’t speak another word about me, but even with that reassurance, I still feel . . . weird.