Shatterproof (10 page)

M
ena is normally unreachable during the school day, but she happens to be at home tending to one of her sick sons when I call.

“I’m so glad to hear from someone who isn’t whining,” she says.

“Hold that thought.”

“What’s wrong? Things go south with Noah after the ambush proposal?”

“Can you believe he did that?” I say, momentarily distracted from the madness of my life.

“I can, because men are idiots,” she says. “What you need to decide is if this is the best possible idiot for you.”

I sigh. “Yeah, he’s my best idiot.”

“Then, that’s settled. Now what happened with the partnership offer?”

She makes all the right disapproving noises as I tell the story. “Oh, El, I’m sorry. But I’m not that surprised. Reuben’s been taking you for granted all along. Please don’t get mad, but let me ask if you can imagine—just imagine—doing anything else.”

I stare at the row of awards on a shelf over my desk that document my progress over the years, alongside photos of me with various clients, always in my sensible suit. “I’d
like
to imagine something else, Mena, but my brain might short out.”

“Give it a chance. What would you do if you could do anything at all?”

I am utterly stumped. I’ve only ever been able see one rung ahead at NTA since starting the climb. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, just for fun, tell me what you’d do if you had six months off. No worries about money.”

That one’s easy. “Travel.”

“Of course! And when was the last time you travelled just for fun?”

“Fiji, I guess.”

“That was over two years ago. Do you think NTA would give you a leave of absence? You and Noah could take off and revive the love.”

“Never,” I say. “Even maternity leaves are frowned upon. You’re supposed to deliver quietly at your desk, hand the baby to a wet nurse, and pick it up at age 18.”

She snorts. “Sounds good to me.”

After a moment of companionable silence, I ask, “Mena, do you believe in magic?”

“Like potions and hexes?”

“Hexes,” I muse. “That’d be great.”

“I definitely believe in intuition,” Mena says. “And maybe ghosts. But probably not potions and hexes.”

“You’re drawing the line at ghosts?”

“Yeah,” she says, laughing. “But if I had a magic wand I’d turn Baxter into a scorpion, so that everyone could see his true nature.”

“Perfect. And you could make Reuben a hippopotamus.”

“But first,” she says, “So I didn’t waste the magic on losers, I’d turn
you
into a happily married woman with her own travel agency.”

“Really.”

“Yep, and I’d baby-sit your angelic little girl while you went on those freebie comp trips.”

“Let’s leave the kids with the guys and take the comp trips together.”

“Huh. It would be magic if we came home and found everyone alive.”

I’m actually laughing when I hang up. True magic indeed.

The receptionist buzzes to say that Scott and Jasper are waiting to see me. My brothers have never visited the NTA offices, so my heart leaps into my throat with the prospect of bad news.

I hurry to the foyer, relaxing only when I see the guys showering the giggling receptionist with a heavy dose of twin charm.

“Chill, El,” Scott says, flashing me a grin. “No one died. You look like you need a smoke.”

“As if,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

They flank me, each grabbing an elbow, and march me toward the elevator. “Wait a second,” I protest. “I don’t want any more of your surprises.”

They banter over my head on the way downstairs.

“She looks like hell.”

“A granny.”

“Good thing we had the party when she was still able to enjoy it.”

“Has she thanked us yet?”

“I don’t think she has. We laid down good coin for that party.”

“She’ll remember us in her will.”

I don’t bother responding until they lead me outside the building, where the wind is swirling a few fat snowflakes. They’re wearing, coats, but I’m shivering in my suit jacket. “Guys, what’s going on?”

Scott pulls cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one with a practiced hand, despite the wind. He hands the pack to Jaz, who does the same.

“Look at her expression,” Scott says.

“You’d think we just snorted crack,” Jaz replies.

“You guys smoke?” My surprise is surprising, considering what I’ve seen today.

“I thought you knew all, Number 1,” Scott says.

“I didn’t know
that
,” I say. “Anyway, I’m freezing. Talk to me.”

Scott waits as Jaz takes a long drag and exhales. They’ve clearly scripted their lines and Jaz comes first.

“We wanted to apologize about the party,” Jaz says. “Well, not about the party, but the half-life theme. And about talking Noah into proposing. It obviously rattled you hard, Number 1.”

“Did you talk to Noah?” I ask, hearing the hope in my voice. He still hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts.

Jaz gives a quick nod. “He said you were pissed to be put on the spot like that.”

“We thought it was a done deal,” Scott jumps in. “I mean, it’s Noah.”

I stare at them, my hair whipping in front of my eyes. The mere absence of smartass grins means they honestly feel bad. “It would have come to this at some point,” I say.

“She’s letting us off the hook.”

“Good ol’ Eleanor.”

“But it did come at a bad time,” I add. “Things here are just... impossible.”

“Yeah,” Scott says. “We saw the photo.”

“The one of you making out with the hot guy,” Jaz says.

“He wasn’t that hot,” Scott says.

“Hotter than Noah,” Jaz replies.

“But... how...?” I begin.

“Baxter had my e-mail address because I sent the party deets,” Scott says. “Although this came from some general NTA account.”

“And then it apparently disappeared,” Jaz says. “Like magic.”

“Thank god I was up early enough to see it,” Scott says. “Otherwise, I’d never have believed it.”

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” I say, hunching against the wind.

“So you
weren’t
kissing some hot guy?”

“He kissed
me
,” I say. “Like you’re in a position to talk. You’re both players.”

They shrug in unison. “This is you,” Scott says. “Last woman alive still wearing a girdle.”

“Not that we’ve checked,” Jaz says, shuddering. “Anyway, you’re the smart one, Eleanor. The sensible one.”

“And Noah’s the brother we always wanted,” Scott adds. “You can’t play him.”

“I didn’t play him. It’s complicated.”

“Cheating isn’t complicated,” Jaz offers.

“I’m not cheating. I’m just trying to balance things out between Noah and my career. The kiss is a non-issue.”

“Except the whole company knows about it,” Scott says.

“They’ve already forgotten it,” I say.

“Please,” Jaz says. “No one forgets something like this. Especially not in a corporate cesspool like yours.”

“Normally you’d be worried sick about something like this,” Scott says. “Are you okay?”

“I’m worried about
getting
sick, standing out here arguing with you in the snow,” I say. “Just go back to whatever it is you guys do during the day.”

They finish their cigarettes at the same moment and grind them out underfoot. It’s like they rehearse in private to make the simplest things look like choreography.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jaz asks.

“Don’t tell me... It seems like a half-life crisis,” I say, trying to smile.

They try to smile back, but all they can manage is a twitch. Despite their good intentions, they know something went terribly wrong after their party, and now they want me to make things right again. I’ve always been the fixer, sorting things out for them before Mom and Dad found out. The one with a strategy. This time, I’m overwhelmed.

Finally I explain. “The partnership thing didn’t work out. Baxter told Reuben about the proposal and he figured my priorities had shifted. So he’s sending me to Ottawa on a long-term project.”

There’s a clash of competing profanity and overlapping dialogue.

“Noah will freak.”

“You’ve got to say no.”

“Screw Reuben. He’s been stringing you along for years.”

“The whole company’s a hornet’s nest.”

After the barrage, Scott’s voice emerges, “But she does have a Lexus.”

“True,” Jaz says, “She can trade it for something cool when she quits.”

Laughing, they shove each other. Their momentary concern for me seems to have dissipated.

“Guys, quit it. I’ve got enough trouble today.”

“That Baxter is the worst of the hornets,” Scott says. “Sorry we invited him Sunday.”

“Let’s lure him down here,” Jaz suggests to Scott. “Swing him around by his tie.”

I start backing away. “Don’t talk to anyone else about this. Especially Mom and Dad. Need I remind you what I’ve got on you?”

Their grins are back and as bright as the snow. “The list is long,” Scott says.

“I’ll take care of it,” I say. “Go.”

They look reassured, and I’m strangely reassured, too. It’s nice that I don’t have to spend any Wonder Glass on these two. No matter what’s happened, they accept me as I am.

Scott pats his jacket, remembering something and comes rushing after me. Giving me a one-armed hug, he presses a bag of cinnamon hearts into my icy hand.