Isolation: Book 2 of The Quarantine Series Page 10

  I have had my suspicions for days that Milo had something to do with us getting caught naked in front of our entire family. I even asked my parents about it.

  Mom said that Milo didn’t provide any specific instructions to go to his room that day. He simply informed them that he wanted to have a family meeting once everyone officially moved in.

  From her perspective, it was an anonymous group decision to go seek out Milo in his room.

  I want to believe her, but something is off. The coincidence is far fetched, allowing Milo to get exactly what he wanted after he dragged me to his room.

  Milo’s actions right before we got caught were despicable. He wants to believe that my physical reaction is consent. Fine! We have had sex plenty of times. I will pretend it was one of those times when we had a consensual relationship, and blank it from my mind. Call it charity.

  The look on my religious father’s face, who believed that I was still a virgin, left me feeling humiliated. But okay, I can deal with that too. All fathers have to find out someday that their little girl is all grown up.

  The physical pain and limited mobility after falling down the stairs have been more than challenging over the last couple of weeks. I can get over that too. After all, it was my decision to run.

  However, the only thing I cannot get past is what that moment did to Reid.

  If Milo knew how Reid felt about me and was behind it in any way, honestly, I don’t know if I can maintain this new found civil relationship of ours, despite Tessa’s condition.

  “My turn,” he declares instead of answering my question. It’s the second time he has dodged this question.

  “Your turn?”

  “I assumed we were taking turns asking questions.”

  “Okay, what would you like to know? Any topic except how I spaced out the other night,” I use my fingers to make air quotes around the words spaced out.

  Milo doesn’t say anything, which means that’s the only topic he wants to discuss.

  We sit around in silence for a little while longer. When he speaks again, I almost jump from the sound of his sudden voice.

  “I have this brilliant coder at work. No one in the office wants to sit next to him because he doesn’t wear deodorant. I didn’t want to fire him for poor hygiene, so I promoted him to find an excuse to give him a private office, away from others. Now I am starting to think he is a genius.”

  Growing up, we used to tease Milo about how he acts like an old man. In retaliation, Milo would tell “dad jokes” to embarrass us in public.

  One time we went to a diner. At the end of the meal, our waitress came up to us.

  “You wanna box for the leftovers?” our waitress asked Milo.

  “No, but I’ll wrestle you for them,” was Milo’s response.

  Soon the jokes morphed into short stories. Milo would tell us ridiculous “dad jokes” anytime we needed cheering up, or if we were mad at him, or just because.

  It never worked with Reid, but Mia and I ate it up. We could never stay mad at Milo after one of his “dad jokes” even if sometimes we were laughing at him rather than with him. This story is an example of the first.

  My lips curve up. Noticing my smile, Milo tries another one.

  “There is a woman at work who uses her time of the month to get time off. She’d go into such graphic details about her cramps that her male supervisor would get uncomfortable and just give in. I have had enough experience with you and Mia. I have no shame in walking to a grocery store to buy tampons or using words like heavy flow. So, I asked the supervisor to direct her to me the next time she tries to pull that stunt.”

  I can’t help but ask, “What happened?”

  “I gave her the time off.”

  I let out a hysterical laugh this time. Milo doesn’t miss a beat and tells me another one. And then another one.

  When dusk finally settles, Milo stands up and grabs my hand to pull me to his side. I fall in step next to him, so we can head home.

  Days of suffocatingly tense mood is slowly shifting into something familiar and lighthearted. I let myself bask in the affection as he tells me more “dad jokes” while we walk home.

  CHAPTER 5

  ----------

  Raven

  Breakfast has officially become the only meal when we come together in the Sinclair home, and most likely, it’s because it’s the only meal I am able to prepare with my limited cooking skills.

  Other than Milo and Tessa, no one in this household knows how to cook. Since they are both preoccupied, it’s been a lot of take-outs and eating separately.

  I have been preparing daily breakfasts so we can all enjoy at least one meal together.

  Except today it’s called brunch instead of breakfast, even though I am still sticking to what I can easily serve; toast, fruits, yogurt, cereal.

  The difference?

  It’s called brunch because it’s on a weekend and we are serving alcohol.

  Hallelujah.

  I have lined up two jugs of orange juice and bottles of cheap champagne that I found in the fully stocked bar.

  I am cutting up fresh fruits when Brandon strolls in and leans against the counter, towering over me with his tall body.

  I have never seen Brandon this up so close. Suddenly, I am jealous of his hair. His rugged good looks are complemented by a headful of pretty black locks. Yes, this man has pretty hair.

  “Hey!” he crosses his arms over his chest.

  “Morning,” I smile at him warmly and take in his floppy sweaty hair. “You go for a run?”

  “Yeah. I usually go for runs in the morning.”

  “Good for you. I wish to have your motivation someday.”

  “You do. You are just motivated about other things, like your designs. But I hope Alexa didn’t overwhelm you the other day about it. We are just passionate entrepreneurs.”

  “Oh,” I wave it off. “Not at all. It was sweet, but I don’t think I’m in the headspace to start my own line right now. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

  Brandon grabs a jug of orange juice and pulls out two glasses. He easily uncorks one of the champagne bottles, barely even making a pop. He hands me a mimosa, and we raise the glasses in cheers.

  “That’s how we felt. When five… sorry four,” he says pointedly, “of us started, we didn’t know where to begin. We were a bunch of college kids who made an app for a class project.”

  “Pray tell, what’s the sudden interest in getting me to start my own business?”

  “All of us do micro-investments and prefer niche start-ups. We like investing in products that interest us, and Alexa likes fashion.” He shrugs.

  A random thought crosses my mind. “Does Milo ever invest in small businesses?” I ask without meeting his eyes.

  I know that Milo invested in my mom’s business. Mom told me that Milo called it an investment in my talent because he thought I could turn the company around.

  Brandon shakes his head. “Milo is notoriously stingy with his portfolio. Out of the four of us he has made the least number of investments, and only when he feels it’s too good to pass up.”

  I don’t know why, but a knot in my stomach unties on its own.

  “That’s good to know,” I mutter. “It’s really cool that you guys invest in so many start-ups.”

  “It is. And Alexa asked me to butter you up so she can invest in your start-up. She refuses to miss the opportunity to invest while you are still suffering from low self-esteem and have no idea how talented you are. This way, she can really low ball you and take a larger stake than she otherwise could.”

  I start laughing. Brandon is apparently adamant about making a business deal before breakfast is over.

  “What stake? I haven’t even done anything.”

  “You will. Alexa told me that she texted your Instagram handle to a few friends. You already have interested customers. If you hire beautiful junior designers and models, maybe I’ll invest too. I’ll do it for a smaller stake in exchange for coming to your work and gawking.”

  “Oh my God,” I playfully punch his shoulder. “You are absolutely insane. Maybe I’ll also hire hot male models, so Alexa also gives up her shares in the business.”

  “I don’t think Alexa will be quite so generous. She only has eyes for Milo.”

  My eyes flip up to meet Brandon’s in shock. “Still?”

  “The heart wants what it wants,” he answers nonchalantly.

  “Wow,” I can’t help but marvel. “Whatever happened between them? I mean, it’s common knowledge that they used to sleep together, but I never heard the full story.”

  “I guess Alexa wanted more, and Milo just wanted to be friends.”

  “I feel like that’s too simplistic an explanation for such complicated feelings.”

  Brandon sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Alexa said they were friends with benefits for a while, but Milo lost interest in sex. She couldn’t entice him into it, and the more Milo moved on, the more she pined after him.”

  Milo stopped being interested in sex!? “If she has been stuck on him for so long, there has to be a little bit more to it than that,” I gently press.

  Brandon’s megawatt smile graces the room. He playfully punches my arm. “I guess the same could be said about him. He has been stuck on you for years. Is there more to that story?”

  I whip my head towards Brandon, unable to hide my shock.

  “Don’t look so surprised that I notice things,” he laughs cheekily.

  When I don’t respond, Brandon’s voice loses some of its previous amusement.

  “I am not judging. The whole thing about your relation to one another was so passé to me. It shouldn’t have even been an obstacle. I know it’s not my place, but if that’s still holding you back...it shouldn’t. He has been pining over you for years. Actually, pining is not the right word. Devastated. Wrecked. Brutalized.”

  “Brutalized?” I emphasize the word. “That’s quite a dramatic choice of word.”

  “I don’t think my choice of words are dramatic enough,” he says tightly. “He kicked Asher out of our company just for kissing you. Asher worked his butt off for this app. None of us wanted him gone, but Milo is the majority owner. He twisted our arms into it without even giving us a reason. The girls never found out why, but I saw Milo at that party. I knew how it was going to end for Asher. He threatened to kick all of us out too if we didn’t back him up.”

  I lower my eyes, remembering the night of Milo’s twenty-first birthday party and how he beat up Asher.

  “I am sorry,” I offer. “I know Ash is a good friend of yours.”

  “Asher landed on his feet,” Brandon shrugs. “The point of the story is that I have only ever seen Milo lose his shit over you. He didn’t disclose what happened between you two. I’m guessing it was bad considering how he changed. He used to be a happy go lucky guy. Now he broods so much; he might as well be a fucking serial killer.”

  I crack a smile at Brandon’s use of that word. Mia also commented on Milo’s detached nature over the years.

  “Losing your shit is not an indication of a healthy relationship,” I point out.

  “Sure, but it is fun for me to watch,” he changes his tone back to his light-hearted self. “Did you see how he dragged the plates and cups from in front of me at breakfast the other day?”

  My mouth drops open. “You ass. I knew you were flirting with me on purpose. You were totally trying to rile Milo up.”

  “I couldn’t help myself,” Brandon laughs deep from his chest. “Whenever I put my hands around your shoulders, all of the veins on Milo’s forehead pop. He has never been a reactive person, even before all of his fucking brooding started. This is fun.”

  I am still shaking my head at Brandon’s ridiculous self when Mia joins us in the kitchen.

  “Hello, Mia,” Brandon greets her with a big smile.

  “Hey,” she gives him a tight smile before hugging me. She is still not her usual bubbly self.

  “How are you?” Brandon asks her more kindly, without any of his usual playfulness.

  Mia gives him a small nod to indicate that she is fine. I hate watching her in pain.

  Mia will forever be my little princess, even though she is almost a fully functional woman now. She is looking at colleges and has a boyfriend. It’s weird to think of her as a grown-up, but now that she is, we have developed a closer bond than ever before.

  I am nursing the mimosa that’s sitting on the kitchen counter. After taking one more sip, I pass the glass to Mia. She looks like she needs it, and I sometimes let her drink under my supervision, just like Milo used to let us.

  Speaking of, we are soon joined by Milo’s remaining business partners and Milo himself.

  While we all exchange pleasantries, Milo’s gaze lands on Mia and the mimosa she is holding. “Who gave you that?”

  Mia doesn’t rat me out, but her eyes flicker to me for a second too long, before she catches herself. Milo turns to give me a questioning look.

  “She told me that she was twenty-one,” I shrug, trying to keep things light.

  Everyone falls in a fit of laughter, and even Milo cracks a smile.

  “Is this what you let my sister do when I send her to Paris?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “Well, I usually offer her heroin because alcohol has empty calories.”

  We are graced with another round of laughter, along with an exasperated eye-roll from Milo.

  “I’m glad you consider her dietary needs,” Milo retorts dryly.

  Mia grins, indicating that we are both on the same wavelength. It’s a game we used to play to tease Milo. She loves this game, and I know it will distract her from all the drama.

  “Mia prefers sticking to cocaine, which is even better for suppressing appetite. Plus, she doesn’t like needle marks. Kids nowadays,” I huff at Mia with a dramatic eye roll.

  “Needle marks just aren’t sexy for all the Tinder hookups and one night stands that Raven lets me have,” Mia pipes in.

  “Ugh!” Milo runs a hand over his face, and the rest of us laugh again.

  “But don’t worry. Raven took me to a Parisian brothel so I can be properly trained on the art of seduction. They said that I am talented enough to be a courtesan,” Mia flips her hair.

  I sigh dramatically. “Alas, she didn’t make the cut. She failed the drug test because you know… the cocaine.”

  “Are you two done?” Milo asks us in an unamused tone.

  “But you will be proud to know that she has a callback for next year,” I nod firmly.

  “You are both grounded. Go to your rooms.”

  The laughter continues, as we further tease Milo. Once we get closer to brunch time, everyone disperses from the room.

  The boys help carry things to the table. Mia and Jaci help set up. Alexa is the only one still lingering around the kitchen with me.

  “So, did Brandon talk to you yet?”

  After Brandon’s input, I am not sure how to take Alexa’s interest in starting a business with me. Especially since the word about Milo and I getting caught together has now spread.

  “He did,” I nod. “And you are positive about wanting to do this?” I inquire pointedly.

  “Of course, I do. Didn’t Brandon give you the spiel about how I am a ruthless businesswoman, and I plan to negotiate a larger stake, leaving you with only scraps of the share?”

  I burst out laughing. Alexa and Brandon are both infectious sometimes. “Well, at least you are honest about ripping me off.”

  Alexa leans in to bump my shoulder gently. “Call me the honest business mafia.”

  Honestly, I would love to work with Alexa. She is genuine and has always been a friend to me. I trust her.

  Plus, I received a wake-up call after observing how quickly Tessa dissipated from the highs of life to the bottom of the barrel.

  After watching the subsequent effect she is having on this family, I am determined to have more than that out of my own life.

  So, I turn to Alexa and take a leap of faith. “You know what, Alexa, this sounds like a brilliant idea.”

  -----------

  Ever since my conversation with Alexa, I am determined to change the remaining days I have left in this house.

  I am not the only woman in the world with a past, and I can’t let myself be crippled by it.

  No pun intended despite my semi-crippled leg.

  My recent excesses in nightmares might be troubling, but it will not be a deterrent towards my new goals because I have decided to change my life.

  Just like that.

  I spent the last few days being productive. I have even written down what I plan to accomplish and my course of action.