I slam my fist on the desk. “What does this mean? Henry played us?”
Urban clicks the mouse, trying to back out of the email to see if there’s anything else explaining what’s going on in his inbox. “I emailed their company a few days ago, just to make sure everything was on the up and up and we were ready to move forward. Ya know, because I was tired of Henry not committing to anything real.”
“Right.” Any time Urban or I asked Henry numbers and figures he always laughed and pushed it aside. Now I see we were taken for...what exactly? “It doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. We haven’t signed any paperwork. We haven’t given him anything. So, I’m not really sure what’s going on.” Urban stands from his chair. “I’m going down there.”
“Well, I’m coming with you.”
We hop in Urban’s black SUV and head downtown to the Wright Brothers Investment Firm. If anyone can put an end to all the back and forth that we can never seem to get answers to, someone there can. Now that I’m thinking about it, Henry’s been calling the shots and making sure no one knows which way is up or down.
“That man sure talks a good talk.” I stare at my brother, wondering if he’s realizing what I am.
“Yeah, like a con man.”
The type of man to make you agree to anything he’s asking you. A part of me wonders if that’s why Kiki said yes to his proposal. I shake that thought away as quickly as it came. Henry is a player, in the worst kinds of way.
Not like how Urban plays around with women, but a different kind of player. A user. A kind that makes you believe every word that comes out of his mouth. Like, yes, he has the money to back every project we’ve ever needed to get done. “Are we stupid for believing this guy?” I ask him.
He shakes his head as he speeds through the streets. Like the faster he goes the more the truth won’t sting. “No, he had the card. I’d heard of Wright Brothers. He said all the right things. Why wouldn’t we believe him?”
“And we’ve known him for years,” I say, relaxing a bit. This must be a mistake. Henry would never.
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, he did everything right except cut the check.” And that worries me.
I know Urban and I both have the same thing on our mind. The email better be a fake. The company better not be some sham of a thing, and Henry’s ass better be there when we get there.
“Maybe you should call him,” Urban says.
“No, he’ll just talk us out of coming there today.”
Urban nods, pulling the SUV into the parking lot of the firm. We both fly out, walking as quickly as we can without downright running. To make matters worse I keep checking my phone like a teenager to see if I’ve missed a call from Kiki. I haven’t.
We burst through the doors like bank robbers ready for action, even though we’re not here to take money but to find the money that was promised to us.
“May I help you,” a busty blonde says at the entrance.
“We’re here to see Mr. Wright.” My brother smiles at me, like he’s not even sure if the name is just a facade, or if there really are two brothers, last name Wright running the whole operation. “Do you have an appointment?”
Before we can even answer, we both spot Henry coming out of the elevator.
“Henry,” I rush up to him, Urban right behind me, and the receptionist right behind him.
“Gentlemen, I’ll have to have you make an appointment.” She races after us, trying her best to halt our progress.
Henry turns, his eyes widening to the size of grapefruits, ok maybe not that big, and he stammers over his words, “Ellis, Urban, what are you doing here?” He checks his phone, most likely looking to see if we called before stopping by.
Another man comes out of his office and steps closer. “Henry, what’s going on here?”
I can already see this whole scene escalating, and I take charge. “Sorry sir,” I shake his hand, “we’re clients of Henry’s and we’re just looking to meet with him to discuss some numbers.”
The man appears utterly confused, like someone lost his cat. “Clients of Henry?”
“We’re the owners of Bearded Goat Brewery, and have been working alongside Henry on an upcoming project that needs funding,” I explain.
“Let’s take this outside,” Henry pleads, grabbing my arm and trying to lead us away.
The older man shakes his head. “But, Henry isn’t an executive. He works in the mailroom.”
This old man must be off his rocker for sure. “No, he’s right here. In a suit.” Mail guys don’t wear suits, do they? No, not that I’ve ever seen.
The man laughs. “He’s always wearing suits. It’s part of his charm.” The man sticks out his hand. “I’m Mr. Wright. I’m one of the owners here.”
I shake his hand, because if I don’t I’ll use this hand to punch Henry instead. “Nice to meet you, sir.” And then Urban shakes his hand, introducing us both.
I can’t stop staring at Henry, trying my best to figure out what exactly is going on. Mailroom?
“I’m sorry for the confusion gentlemen, but make an appointment with Charlene. I’d love to discuss your brewery with you.”
I shake his hand again, thanking him.
Urban steps up to Charlene’s desk as I walk outside with Henry.
“Let me explain.” He holds his hands up in a mock surrender pose. “I planned on backing you guys. I did. I thought if maybe I brought your ideas to my boss it would help us all out. You’d get your money, I’d get my promotion.”
I shake my head. “Henry, this isn’t a game. We trusted you, and you let us down.”
“Did Kiki tell you? Is that why you’re here?”
“Tell me what?” Kiki knew this man was a lying sack of shit?
“About our deal.”
“What deal?” I step closer to Henry and he backs up.
Urban walks out of the building and stands beside me. “What’s he saying?”
“Says Kiki and he had some sort of deal going on.” I’m ready to knock the shit out of this guy, but I’m not an idiot. I’m also not a teenager and can control my anger. I know you punch someone and you are costing yourself a lifetime of regret. Possible jail time. Being sued, and Henry looks the type to sue someone for that kind of thing. So, I resist, even though it’d feel so fucking good.
“Start talking,” Urban says, folding his arms across his chest.
“Well, as I was telling her I like to win,” Urban and I exchange a look, “and well, I figured if we’d be working together it would be in her best interest not to be involved with you.”
I see flames.
“And in contretemps, I’d rather not be working with someone who is dating my ex. So, it all works out now.”
Is this guy on drugs?
“But we’re not working together,” Urban says. “You work in the mailroom.”
“Semantics.” He shrugs a cocky shoulder.
I take a deep breath in, to control the anger coursing through my veins at a very rapid pace. “You told Kiki to break up with me?”
“Not in so many words.”