Candescent

Chapter Two, Ellis

TENSIONS HAVE BEEN HIGH SINCE Mitchell's almost wedding. I know it's cruel, but every time I replay the scene in my head, I laugh a little. Playing it over has become a nightly tradition, with my days spent between work cases and failed attempts to get a hold of my brother. An unannounced visit to his penthouse last week had ended with the door being slammed in my face after a curt "Leave me alone, Ellis."

I'm just about leaving the firm when my phone lights up with a message from my brother. A smile works its way onto my face. He's asked me to meet him at a closed bar downtown, the same place where we celebrated his engagement. I scoff at the irony. I wonder if there is such a thing as a disengagement party, and whether or not Mitchell will try to retrieve the engagement ring.

Traffic is slow today, so it's dark by the time I reach the bar. I find an empty parking spot and hurry into the building so as not to waste any time. The interior is dimly lit, with orange energy-saving lights casting an ambient glow on the space. I spot Mitchell tucked away in a corner, nursing what I assume is a whiskey straight. Mitchell believes that a proper drink must be aged to portray a maintenance of integrity, which is an opinion similar to the one he has on relationships and pretty much everything else.

"Hey," Mitchell greets me without looking at me. His eyes remain trained on the glass nestled in his hands. I notice how in an act of rebellion, he's discarded the coaster that accompanied his whiskey. "I need you to do me a favor."

"I haven't even sat down yet."

He shakes his head as if to clear it of unwelcome thoughts. "Sorry. Mind's elsewhere." Mitchell finally tears his eyes away from the glass and looks over my shoulder. His eyes are glassy, his normally hairless chin now sporting some fuzz.

I understand that anyone would need time to process a breakup, much less one of this magnitude — even the guests in attendance are still upset at the way things turned out — but Mitchell left unchecked could easily fall into an endless pit of depression, something he's no stranger to. Call me insensitive, but I'm too busy to deal with the emotions of a grown man.

"I don't really want to think about it." Mitchell runs a hand over his face and looks out the window. My eyes follow his. There's nothing to see but cars. "Or talk about it, but I suppose you'll leave me with no choice, won't you?'' The question is rhetorical, so I keep mute. This is the most he's said to me since Olivia turned her back on their relationship. "And I've tried talking to her. She never answers, never writes back. She won't even come pick up her things. If it's over, at least let me have it, right?"

I wince, nodding. Mitchell absolutely refuses to say Olivia's name. An act of self-preservation, maybe. He's trying to keep all the screws on.

"Do you think it'd be helpful to, I don't know, wait a little before reaching out to her? You could take time away, leave the country."

Mitchell scoffs. "No. An idle mind is the last thing I need right now, Ellis." He takes a long sip of his whiskey, scrunching up his face as he swallows. Mitchell slams the empty glass on the table, causing a number of heads to turn our way. I remain unfazed. "I want you to help me talk to her. Get closure. Some explanation for why she went along with it until the last minute. Did she have it out for me from the start? What if she wanted a way to rid me of all my assets?" The final question is rushed, with Mitchell fumbling with his phone.

"What are you doing?"

He holds the device up to his face and says in the most deadpan voice, "checking my accounts. I'm not about to suffer multiple losses."

Shaking my head, I say, "what makes you think Olivia would try to steal from you?"

Mitchell drops his phone on the table with a loud thud. "Would you ever have guessed that she would leave me at a critical time, Ellis? She's proven that I can't trust her, so yes, I do have reason to believe she was only in this for the money."