She wraps me in a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, and my muscles tighten with a sick hope as I wait for more words just for me, words like, I’d like to thank the Academy, or Do I get a gold star for that performance? But they don’t come, and her apology feels as real as any words she’s ever uttered.
She breaks the embrace, casts her eyes to everyone else, and repeats herself. “I’m sorry.”
She leaves, walking away from me. No just kidding comes my way, because this is all too real, and each step she takes crushes me. Like a fool, I stand frozen at home plate, my insides a churning mess of emotions as the embarrassment shifts into something worse. Hurt. So much damn hurt, like my heart has become bruised. She doesn’t love me.
It was never real.
Mr. Offerman turns to my father. His nostrils flare. His eyes are hard. “I don’t care whose idea it was. I don’t do business with liars. The deal is off,” he says, slicing his hand through the air.
Rihanna’s “Take a Bow” plays from Emily’s sound system.
I cringe, and Mr. Offerman roars at his daughter. “Enough.”
On that count, we agree.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
My head spins and my chest has a gaping hole in it.
That doesn’t stop Harper. She pulls no punches.
“Look.” Her hand clamps on my shoulder as she marches me through the park, Nick on my other side. “Your to-do list today just got a whole lot longer.”
It’s a good thing she’s guiding me, because I have no clue where I’m going or what I’m supposed to do. My dad took off fifteen minutes ago to deal with the cratering of the most important deal of his career, thanks to me. And Charlotte is history. I tried to find her, but she’s vanished in a puff of smoke. I could call her from Harper’s phone, but as the reality settles in like a dead weight in my heart, I’m not so sure I’m ready for that kind of self-inflicted torture just now. Hey, Charlotte. That’s a bummer that you’re not into me, but I had some ideas for our new marketing campaign? Oh, good. Glad you like my plans to sell more shots. Nachos are on you tonight.
“Okay. What’s on the to-do list?” I ask, my voice hollow. “Any chance it involves me waking up from this nightmare?”
She scoffs as she tugs me closer to avoid a skateboarder. “No. Welcome to your life, Spencer Holiday. Your big mouth has gotten you in a lot of trouble, and you need to dig yourself out of this hole.”
“It’s kind of the size of a black hole, though,” Nick says. “Do you have a shovel that’ll work on something that deep?”
I want to laugh. I really do. Instead, I scowl. “While you work on finding that shovel, maybe you can also let me know what to do about Charlotte? Seeing as I now run a business with a woman who served me walking papers on home plate.”
My sister shoots me a look that could burn up asphalt. “She’s not the first item on the to-do list, Spence.”
“She’s not?”
Harper shakes her head as the path spills out of the park and we curve onto Fifth Avenue. She points. Far in the distance. Down the avenue. “There. Ten blocks away you’ll find a jewelry store. Up on the sixth floor is our father’s office. You need to go see him and grovel.”
My shoulders sag, and I sigh heavily. “I really fucked this up.”
Nick laughs sympathetically. “You did, man. But now it’s time to unfuck it.”
I hold my hands out wide. A horse-drawn carriage clacks along Fifth Avenue behind us. “How does that work? I’m familiar with fucking. But unfucking—is that like pulling out early?”
Nick shakes his head. “Not exactly. It’s a new scientific discovery, though. Like reverse osmosis, but instead of water, it filters out your fuck-up. Got it now?”
Harper rolls her eyes. “Guys. Focus. Now is not the time to practice one-upmanship in smartassery.”
I drag a hand roughly through my hair. “All right. Let’s do this. What is step one?”
Harper draws a deep breath and turns to Nick. “Should we tell him, or let him figure it out on his own?”
Nick screws up the corner of his mouth, then pushes his glasses higher. “Not sure his brain is working at full-speed today.”
“Tell me what? Were you two talking about this already?”
“Yeah. Duh. When you tried to run off to find Charlotte,” she says, and I wince at the reminder of how I raced off to catch up to her after Rihanna’s song screeched to a halt. But the blond beauty was long gone, leaving me nursing this black-and-blue heart. Meanwhile, she has my phone, keys and wallet, so I’m operating blind.
Penniless, too.
“And what did you decide I need to do?”
“Dude, first you need to apologize to your dad for lying. You need to explain why you did it, that it came from the right place, but that it was a mistake, and you’re sorry,” Nick says, taking on the role of straight shooter.
I nod. “Got it. I can do that.”
“Then you need to try to fix this mess,” Harper says, chiming in.
“How?”
“You should ask to talk to Mr. Offerman. See if you can smooth things over.”
I cringe at the thought of groveling to that asshat. “He doesn’t want to have anything to do with Dad anymore.”
“That’s right now,” Nick says. “Tempers flare in the heat of the moment. See if he cools down. You’ve got to try.”