I circle the counter and press a quick kiss to Maggie’s cheek. “Smells good in here.”
“Welcome home.” She gives me a side hug before turning back to the pot.
Then, casually, she asks, “So… Are you boys going home to Nantucket for the holidays this year?”
“Yes,” I respond without hesitation at the exact same time that Henson says, “No.”
We both turn to each other, and Maggie’s brow shoots up.
“Mom is going to be upset,” I tell him flatly.
He shrugs, sipping the juice like it’s poison. “You know how I get at functions where there are too many people. She’ll understand.”
Crowds trigger Henson’s anxiety, and pushing him into a situation like that usually ends badly. I’ve been there, seen it firsthand. But this is family. And if there’s one thing our mother loves, it’s gathering every last one of us under the same roof for the holidays.
“Hen, this isn’t some gala or fundraiser. Mom needs you there.”
He gives me a look as if he wants to argue, but I see the unease in his eyes. Panic lingers under the surface, even when he tries to mask it.
I sigh and sit on one of the barstools across from him. “I get it. I do. But maybe we figure out a compromise, because Mom will never let you live it down if you don’t show up at all.”
Henson scowls at me like I’ve just betrayed him. I take it as a win.
Maggie shoos us out of the kitchen to give her space, so I pull my laptop from my bag and settle at the dining table.
Henson drops into the chair across from me, setting his own laptop down with a sigh. We work for a while, the only sound the clacking of keys and Maggie humming faintly to herself.
Then, out of nowhere, Henson says, “So… how was the trip?”
I don’t bother looking up. “Fine.”
“Fine?” He draws the word out. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“Yes.” Besides the fact that I’m getting married to my employee.
A beat of silence, then: “How’s Mya?”
My jaw clenches. I shut the lid of my laptop harder than necessary and level him with a look.
He smirks, unbothered. “Your silence tells me all I need to know.”
“It tells you nothing.”
“Please. You’re my brother. I’ve known you my whole life. You shut down whenever something hits too close.” He leans back, arms crossing over his chest. “You like her.”
I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “Even if I did, it doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
My throat tightens, but I push through it. “Mya is not interested in me like that. She thinks I’m some fucking playboy—and let’s face it, I’ve given her plenty of reasons to think that.”
Henson’s gaze softens. “You don’t help your image, I’ll give you that. But if she knew the real you, the one I know? She’d think differently.”
I shrug, leaning back in my chair. “Doesn’t matter. She’s my employee. And she made it clear she doesn’t want to be entangled with her boss.”
Henson smirks again. “So fire her. Then ask her on a date.”
I bark out a laugh. “Right. Like she wouldn’t hate my guts after that.”