Sold Short (Sidelined Book 3) Page 24

  If it hadn’t been 2 a.m. If the result hadn’t been so important for Ana she might’ve read the report more carefully. If Dev had opened Gavin’s envelope, he might’ve seen Connor’s name and they’ve have noticed the switch, but if Gavin’s lawyers hadn’t asked for proof as part of organizing funds for Ana, they might never have worked out Connor was the baby’s dad.

  The truth had a surprising result. It changed nothing, except Ana could no longer accept Gavin’s money and Connor earned his first black eye.

  The day Sarina flew to London, Dev came home to find Connor sprawled out on the couch with a bag of frozen peas held over his face. Mom and Ana sat in a tea-filled vigil.

  “What happened?”

  He got back: “Your father,” “Dad,” “Mr. Patel.”

  “Dad hit Connor?”

  “Slugged him,” said Ana.

  “I should’ve ducked,” said Connor.

  “Your father has lost it,” said Mom.

  To Dev’s knowledge Dad had never hit anyone. He was the punish you with loud argument, irrational demands, unspecified threats and frosty silences type. “How did this happen?”

  Connor had wanted to introduce himself. Vikram Patel heard, “I’m Connor, your grandson’s dad,” and took a swing. Connor finished his sentence, “I love Ana,” from the ground, seconds before the door shut in his face.

  Vikram Patel, defender of decency and family values.

  “Poor Connor,” said Mom. “He should’ve gotten out while he had a chance. Welcome to the family, dear.”

  Connor lifted the bag of peas and grinned at them. “It all feels real now. Really real.”

  It’d be sad if it wasn’t funny.

  Sarina was in London for six weeks, that was two weeks longer than expected and days and days too long for Dev’s liking. They’d never been apart this long. Never been out of regular contact like this. But he’d wanted distance and he’d gotten it. And it solved nothing.

  With every casual and not so casual relationship he’d had, he’d put distance between himself and Sarina, until she no longer trusted they could be real together, until he sucked out her confidence and drove her into the arms of another man and donor databases.

  He was in love with Sarina and he’d left it too late for that to mean enough for her. And that felt like it had changed the course of his history.

  On the weekly conference calls, he’d had to share her with Reid and Owen. The one she’d made with a red nose, croaky voice and bruised eyes made him twitch to pocket his passport and leap on the nearest flight. She was never sick and it made him anxious to see her looking beaten up and alone in a tiny hotel room.

  If she was pregnant surely she’d tell him. Reid kept asking if she was knocked up and she kept telling him she’d report on the project milestones when they were reached. It was a game between them. It was a reminder note Dev couldn’t delete; unfinished business he couldn’t move past.

  Reid had talked a lot about pivoting over the last six weeks. They’d held a staff briefing to discuss the future for Plus and outline potential new directions. Anything they said internally was liable to become public knowledge so they could only speak in the vaguest terms so not to tip off competitors. It had been enough to stem the tide of resignations, but not enough to save Arik.

  Dev should’ve thrown out Mark Minty’s business card, instead it got dog-eared from the amount of times he turned it over in his hands. He should’ve told Owen at least about the offer from Donovan Lo, about the regular contact from Arik to say he hoped Dev would reconsider. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t, but it was somehow linked to why Gita was still sitting in a garage with a dented rear end and he was driving around in a hired car he hated instead of getting a broker to look for something more fun.

  All around him change was happening. Mom was on the warpath, Dad was under pressure to get with the program, Ana was growing softly round, Shush got a promotion, Arik was gone, Reid was planning, Owen was scheming, Sarina was building a new life, but Dev waited, expectant, as if he was the one who was pregnant.

  He might as well have been his father, fighting for an outcome that was already decided and not likely to go his way.

  He might also be giving himself an ulcer and that impression didn’t ease when he saw Sarina.

  She walked into the meeting room and his chest seized. Instead of being soothed by seeing her in the flesh, he was hit with a sensation of having the floor ripped out from under him. She’d recovered from the cold but she looked different and he couldn’t tell if he was seeing things, looking at her in a fresh light because he knew what she was like under her flowing skirt and wraparound top, or she really had changed in a way he couldn’t quantify.

  She headed straight for him, came into his arms with a slight jump that brought them together with an innocent kind of violence, made him wrap his arms around her and squeeze her close. Her eyes were shadowed, her hair was longer, the pink was back to blue and there was more of it. She wasn’t wearing her usual beachy perfume so she didn’t smell the same.

  “I missed you so much,” she whispered into his neck, fingers digging into his back.

  He held her a beat too long and Reid clapped his hands. “Where’s mine?”

  Sarina pulled clear, but let her palm trail down his chest, a gesture not compatible for friends who hadn’t seen each other for a while, and that should have settled some of the unsteadiness he felt. He watched as she hugged Reid and then Owen and it had to be his imagination but she moved differently.

  He shook his head. He was seeing things. Just being in the same room with her again made him dizzy.

  Owen kicked the meeting off and Dev tried to let it go, tune in to what Owen was saying. But then Christopher brought coffee, and Sarina pushed hers away with an expression of distaste. That never happened. She never looked pale like this, not even after pulling a string of all-nighters.

  That was his first tangible sign.

  As soon as Owen stopped talking, Reid asked his favorite question. “Are you knocked up yet?”

  Dev’s second sign was the way she hesitated, threw him a panicked look and then told Reid exactly what he could do with his question. She didn’t say no. She didn’t deflect to the project timeline or mention milestones. She didn’t brush it off. She didn’t joke about it and Reid shut his mouth.

  The wait was over. Sarina was pregnant and she wanted to tell him first in private.

  He was his father’s son, he wanted to lash out, hit something and Gita wasn’t available. He’d thought he’d be able to take it, watching her change like he watched Ana, be more steadfast no matter what, like Connor, but that rage of loss and grief was there still.

  That tightness in his chest that made his head spin cleared with a sudden snap. If he couldn’t have Sarina to himself, he had to have something else so he could bear sharing her.

  “It’s been the ride of my life,” he said, over the top of whoever was talking. “But it’s time for me to pivot.”

  “You can pivot when it’s your turn on the agenda,” said Owen.

  He was past waiting on the sidelines, having events decide things for him, not being in control of his own destiny. If he’d been greedier, grabbed opportunities as they’d come by, maybe he wouldn’t be forced to take second place again. Maybe he wouldn’t have been sold short.

  “I quit.”

  Owen opened his mouth in protest. Sarina dropped her phone. Reid glared at him, “What did you say?”

  “I quit. It’s time for me to go.”

  “You can’t fucking quit,” Reid said.

  “I can. I just did.”

  Reid threw a hand out, appealing to Sarina. “Can he?”

  He could. They all could. What tied them together as partners was their friendship.

  “Yes,” Sarina said, and the word was so heavy with sadness no one else spoke for the longest time, until Owen collected himself.

  “What, Dev? What is this about?”

  God on an elep
hant, his heart was so loud in his ears he could hardly hear the question. “You should walk me out.”

  “Walk you out.” He heard that because Reid shouted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He shook his head. This was the right thing to do, because he could come second with Sarina and her baby if he came first somewhere else in his life, grab some spotlight to make the shadows brighter.

  “It’s really clear, Reid. I don’t want to work here anymore. You’re going to start pushing in a new direction, so it’s a good time for me to leave. You won’t need me.”

  Reid leaned across the table to get in his face. “Quit and do what? Fuck, what is wrong with you?”

  “Reid, you’re not helping,” said Owen.

  “Fuck, Owen.” Reid pounded a fist on the table. “Sarina, do something.”

  She had . . . nothing. She was frozen and Dev couldn’t watch her shut down.

  “Dev, where is this coming from?” said Owen. He was the only one of them not stroking out.

  “Oh fuck, Sarina,” said Reid, head in his hands.

  Owen pressed on. “Who got to you and with what?”

  Dev shook his head. “It’s not about that.”

  “Fuck it’s not,” said Reid.

  “If you want more money, more anything, you know you can have it here,” said Owen. “Whatever’s going wrong with us, let’s put it right.”

  “It’s not us. It’s me. It’s time for me to make my own mark.”

  Owen put a hand out to stop Reid talking. “Which means what?”

  “Plus is you and Reid and the whole industry knows that. They know Sarina built the culture, finds the talent and knows how to keep us performing.”

  He was still saying us. He had one foot on everything he knew and loved and no idea where the other was going to land, only that he had to act, couldn’t let things remain the same.

  “But me, I’m just along for the ride, I always was. I’m an ace backup plan, but it’s time I stepped up.”

  Reid couldn’t be contained. “What are we talking about? You have a perpetual hard-on for delivery. You don’t like risk, you like solving big, hairy, bite your ass problems. You like showing me when things could be better. You like being behind the frontline where all the real grunt happens. When did that change?”

  “Who got to you?” said Owen.

  “What did they fucking get to you with?” said Reid. “You’re our layer two, our connective tissue. It doesn’t work without you cable tying us together.”

  “I think.” Sarina had to stop and start again. She’d been pale before but she was ghostly now. He hated having done that to her. “I think we should all back off, take a breath. Let Dev and I talk.”

  Reid collapsed into a chair. “Can’t fucking breathe.”

  Neither could Dev. He’d just leapt from a speeding car he’d helped build from the ground up. He stood, feeling bruised already. He didn’t know if their friendship could survive this, but he had to trust it would. “I’m sorry. There was no easy way to do this. It’s no one’s fault. I won’t come back into the office. I won’t access the servers. Tell people what you need to. I don’t want to damage Plus in any way, but it’s time for me to go after what I want before it’s too late.”

  Now Owen was on his feet. “Too late for what? What’s too late? What do you want?” He caught Dev’s arm and stopped him leaving the room.

  “Let me go, Owen.”

  “I don’t accept your resignation. Take time off to think about it.”

  He closed his eyes. He was burning it all down and it should feel liberating, but he was choking on it.

  “I don’t accept this,” Owen repeated, but he took his hand away.

  “I’m sorry, this was better done quickly, better that I’m decisive for once.” He had to move past Sarina to leave the room. He put his hand to her shoulder and she startled, tipped her face up, starry eyes, trembling lips. He bent to kiss her forehead. “I love you. I don’t mean to fail you, but I can’t be what you need unless I do this.”

  “Dev, please—”

  He didn’t let her go on, needed to get out of the room. For all of five seconds he thought he’d made a clean getaway, but Reid could wake the dead when he shouted.

  He waited till Reid caught up so the whole building didn’t hear them. “I don’t want to fight with you, Reid.” He wanted to get his personal gear and leave before he shot his other foot off.

  “Too bad.”

  He kept his voice low. “Do the right thing and escort me out.”

  “Only when you tell me what this is about.”

  From Reid that was almost a back-down. “You don’t need me anymore.” It was the truest thing he’d said. Sarina wanted to go it alone and Plus could survive without him. He was one hundred percent redundant.

  “It’s why we need to pivot.”

  “What, you’re agreeing with me?” His body was tensed for a fight, but maybe he was ahead of the punches for once. He took a breath, so he was ill prepared for Reid to back him into the wall. Fight it was.

  “What drug are you on? No, I’m not agreeing with you. But we’ve got this business rocking, we can hire people to keep it humming. Plus doesn’t need all our attention any longer, it’s time we frightened ourselves again doing something new.”

  “That’s too cute, Reid.” Too much like something Reid would say to convince Dev he was doing a dumb thing, to make him feel connected all over again.

  “Not as cute as whatever those bastards at Alternate offered you.”

  That was the dumb thing. Thinking Reid hadn’t worked that out. “How did you know?”

  “Can’t lie to save yourself, Dev. But you run a good line of avoidance.”

  He’d like to avoid more of this. “I made a decision. It’s got nothing to do with Alternate. I didn’t accept their offer.”

  “But you plan to now?” Reid thumped a flat hand against the wall. “Fuck off with that, Dev. You fucking well get I don’t know which way is up without you. There is no point to me doing my thing if you’re not around to do yours.”

  No, no, not again. “It’s not about you. You can hire a thousand rockstar engineers to replace me. They’ll fight over the chance to work with you.”

  “Because you’re done. I finally wrecked you? Jesus Christ, I’m an asshole. Tell me how I can fix this.”

  He shoved Reid in the chest. “No, dumbass. After your last stunt, I’m impervious to being wrecked by you. This has nothing do with you.”

  Reid tore at his hair. “Then what?”

  Everything else. “She’s pregnant.”

  Reid frowned. “She’s not saying that.”

  “Just then she gave you a different answer to all the other times you’ve asked. She avoided the question. She told you to fuck off.”

  “Wait, I know you weren’t keen on the donor plan, but you’re quitting over it?” Up came Reid’s hands. “Wait, wait. You’re quitting because you think Sarina is pregnant to a donor when it might’ve been you. Ah, I get it. But fuck that, we’re not doing that.”

  “Reid, it’s done, I’m not arguing with you.”

  He laughed. “Not me, Sarina.”

  “I’m not arguing with Sarina. I’m in love with her and I’ve let her down. I promised I’d be whatever she needed but I can’t do that if I have to see her every day, watch her grow that baby and know it’s not mine, know I messed up my chance to be to her what Zarley is to you, and Cara is to Owen.

  “You don’t even know for sure she’s pregnant.”

  “I know it.” He felt it. “You’d know if it was Zarley.”

  Reid acknowledged that with a shudder. “Get the fuck over yourself and ask her the fuck to marry you.”

  He sighed. “I did, twice, she turned me down—twice. Once because it was a knee-jerk, and she’s too smart for that, and the second time because I didn’t make it right for her. She has someone else.” Even if she paid for the cheese man’s time, she intended to see other men.
She’d said so. She’d done so.

  “Fuck.” Reid spun and put his back to the wall so they stood there, the two of them, side by side, unlikely lifelong friends, successful business partners who worked best with each other, with a problem finally too big to solve.

  Reid was out of ideas and Dev was incapable of seeing a better solution.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Reid would stop Dev. Reid would fix this. He’d have to because Sarina was incapable of getting out of the chair, let alone going after Dev and knowing what to say. She’d gotten off the plane, seen her family, smelled sauerkraut and spent the rest of Sunday, and much of the morning, with her head in the toilet, before she’d managed to pull it together to get to the office.

  She didn’t need another test to know she was pregnant, but she’d taken it anyway.

  “Sarina, if you lose any more color from your face you’ll need to lie down before you fall down,” said Owen. “What’s going on?”

  “This is my fault.”

  He moved around the table and sat beside her. “How can it be your fault?”

  “We.” She bit down on her tongue. She was going to be sick again, but this time from fear.

  “Dev’s not going to quit over a romantic fall out with you.”

  Romantic fall out made it sound like a theme park ride, something you’d queue for knowing it would give you a laugh. This was a seismic shift in the tectonic plates of her world.

  Owen tapped the tabletop. “Do your job. Go get him back.”

  “Reid—”

  “Will shout and make Dev feel guilty. That’s not going to do it. We can’t lose Dev like we lost Nerida and Arik and the others. We’re not us without Dev.”

  “You—”

  “I’m not the one he’s in love with.”

  She shook her head. “He’s not, he can’t be, he won’t be.”

  Owen put his hand over hers. “Because you’re pregnant?”

  How did he know?

  He smiled. “It’s a guess. You never turn your nose up at coffee. You told Reid to fuck off with his question.” He ducked his head to see into her eyes. “What worries me is you’re not happy and Dev just made the most radical decision of his life. This is what you wanted and Dev is the one we rely on to be predictable. The only people who can fix this are you and Dev.” He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Congratulations. Now go do the thing you’re famous for, Sarina.”