I looked at her, stunned. My chest tightened. A vein was pulsing in my temple. Was she serious? I was going through a crisis, and the first thing she wanted to do was bolt? I needed her. Couldn’t she see that? Didn’t she care?
I had no idea what to say back. Anger coursed through me, overpowering confusion. But I didn't have time for this now. Ian was waiting for me.
"We'll talk about this later," I said and then headed out of the apartment, taking the stairs. I had too much energy to wait for the elevator.
What the hell did that mean? As much as I thought and twisted her words in my mind, I didn't reach a conclusion by the time I joined my brother. We both got into the car. The second I closed the door, my brother started talking about the submission, but he stopped as abruptly as he began. I glanced at him. He was staring at me.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
I grunted.
"That's not an answer."
I didn't say anything for a few seconds, then just prompted, "You were talking about the submission."
"Yes, but that was before I saw how you look."
"And how do I look?" I challenged.
"Like you're about to punch something."
"I screwed up. Of course I'm pissed."
"No, there's more to this than that. Did something happen with Mel?"
“Ian....”
“Holy shit, I’m right. Is Elliot being a jackass again? Just saying, he can meet my right hook too.”
“No. I don’t want to talk about it. Look, the competition is important here. Let's focus on that."
Ian looked at me for a few seconds, then shook his head.
"What are you doing?" I asked, watching him take out his phone.
"What I do every time I have no clue what’s going on. I'm asking Isabelle to investigate."
***
Mel
For the first time, I wasn't in the mood to be at Genesis. I’d planned to call them this morning to tell them I needed the day off after Dylan told me last night that he wanted to spend the day with me. After our fight, though, I figured it was best to keep myself occupied.
Wrong decision.
Facing clients and putting on a cheerful smile was impossible, especially when one of those clients was Isabelle.
Her session started right after lunch. I waited for her in our small training room.
"Hey, Isabelle," I greeted when she came in.
"Hey."
"Do you want to do the usual routine today, or want me to add up some more abs exercises?"
"Your call."
I looked at her very closely. Something was off. She seemed different, more subdued, and not as chatty as usual. And it dawned on me that maybe she knew something was wrong.
"Did you speak to Dylan?" I asked carefully while Isabelle rolled out her mat.
She immediately straightened up, pointing at me. "Aha. No, just with Ian. We're trying to figure out what’s happening. I first thought that maybe Ian was way off the mark, but he clearly wasn’t. Something did happen."
I felt miserable. I sat cross-legged on the mat, putting a hand on my chest. "I messed up. I wanted to help, but I think I made things worse."
Isabelle sat on her mat, looking at me intently. "Tell me everything."
I told her about the conversation with Dylan after Ian left. The more I spoke, the more skeptical she looked at me. Once I was done, I pressed my lips together, waiting for her answer.
“Wait a second. How did you think this was going to be helpful? In the middle of an emergency at work, you essentially told him that you’re leaving him to deal with it alone."
I started closing my eyes. "That was not what I meant. Shit. That's how it came across, didn't it?" I opened my eyes again, feeling even more miserable than before.
Isabelle was frowning and tugging at her lower lip with her teeth. "Yes, I think it did. As I said, I haven't spoken to Dylan yet, but I do know how my brother ticks." She trained her gaze on me, and I swear to God I felt as if she could see right through me. "There's something else on your mind, isn't it?"
"How can you tell?" I asked a bit nervously.
"I'm a counselor. It's my job to interpret nonverbal cues."
"I feel guilty that he's in this situation at all. That if it weren't for me—"
"Hold it right there," she said, holding her palm up. "If it weren't for you, my brother would still be closed off and unhappy. Listen to me. He cares about you. I have never seen him so happy, you understand? That's all that matters. Everything else can be fixed."
"Can it, though?" I asked. “Ian said their submission was withdrawn, and I know how important the project is to him.”
“Not more important than you. Can I give you my professional opinion?”
“Sure.”
“I think the encounter with Elliot brought up some stuff for you.”
“It pissed me off.” I bit my lip, realizing Isabelle was right. There was more to it than being annoyed. His words had hit a nerve.
“Ha! I can see you’re having an aha moment.” She twirled a finger in front of my face. I got a bit dizzy. “You know what would help? A long walk with a friend where you can talk it all out.”
I shook my head. “I have back-to-back sessions today.”
I didn’t even have time to meet with the lawyer. Luckily, Charlotte stopped by the gym to pick up the police report, and she was getting the necessary documents to the lawyer for me. I loved my friend to pieces.
Isabelle grinned, holding up a finger. “I have a solution. We can go during my session. We still have over an hour left. I volunteer to be the friend, obviously.”
Her grin was contagious. I smiled, despite still feeling like I had a rock on top of my shoulders. "You're really not in the mood for training, are you?"
Isabelle shrugged. "I never am, but today I have a legitimate reason to get out of it. So, what do you think?”
I laughed, getting up from the mat. “Let’s do it. If there was ever a good excuse to skip training, it’s this.”
“That’s my girl.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Dylan
"I think a personal plea is going to work better," I told Ian. We’d spent all day on the phone with various members of the committee in Seattle, and it had been pointless. We’d been among the finalists, and they all heavily hinted that we would have won this thing. But now I’d screwed it up.
We were both in my office, sitting on the couch. He took out his phone, probably to check our flights.
"I agree. I think they want us to win. Two planes are going out today. There are no seats available for the last one, but there are still seats for the one leaving in two hours."
"Okay, that's good to know," I said, rolling my shoulders. They were stiff from holding a phone to my ear all day.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on with Mel?"
"No."
He rolled his eyes. "I know anyway."
"You talked to Mel?”
"No. Isabelle had a session with her today."
"What did she say?" I straightened up, looking at him intently.