CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The problem with Krish had been simmering for two days, but the trouble itself had been building to this point for quite some time. Krish had always seen the financial potential for the company, while Liam was more focused on the spiritual side, but that was always how it had been between them—Krish practical, Liam dreaming. It had been the pattern of their friendship long before Quiet was born.

Liam had avoided his friend through the workshops. They'd gone well, he thought at the end of the final gathering. It had been a very mixed group in every demographic way—age, gender, race, culture—which he liked to see and had been pushing for. The cornerstone population of the workshops was still a privileged set, well educated and monied. They tended to be generous as well, helping fund scholarships, of which there were many at every stop.

He'd just scrambled into his oldest jeans and a T-shirt when Krish knocked. "That went well, I think," Krish said.

Liam nodded, scrolling through the messages on his phone without looking up. His mother reminded him to text Clare; his oldest sister sent a photo of her dog rolling on his back; and then, Tillie.

Sorry I missed you. Try tomorrow? I miss you. Really, really do. Been some developments, and I want to tell you all about it, but too long for texts.

A swoosh of relief washed away half the tension in his body. He glanced up at Krish. "Something on your mind?"

Krish smiled tightly and closed the door behind him. He took the earphones from his ears. "You tell me."

"I'm not ready to talk about it," Liam said, punching in the time difference between New York and London. Only midday there. He'd call her straight away.

"Talk about what? You've been pissed off for days. Was it the veto of the painting that woman wanted to do? You know all the reasons it would be bad for the brand."

Brand. Liam sank into an armchair and wiped the weariness off his face. "It's not about the painting, but it is about Tillie in a way."

"I'm listening," Krish said, but his arms were crossed over his chest, and his chin was slightly lifted.

"You set me up with the donor."

"Yeah? And?"

"Because you wanted me to take her out, have sex, show me that the thing with Tillie is just another fling."

He lifted a shoulder. "Maybe. It didn't work, I guess, but you can't blame me for trying. We're at a tipping point here, and you want to drop everything for ... a girl."

"Not a girl, and not for her, either. Bro, I keep trying to tell you this is not working for me, and it's my company, my idea. I don't want to think about branding or how many people we can pack into a workshop."

"That's why you have me. I've always been the one to deal with the hard stuff." He seemed to realize how it sounded and backpedaled. "Hard stuff, as in the things you don't like, the spreadsheets and marketing and donors."

"And branding," Liam said.

"Of course. You resist it, but branding is part of what we're doing here. You're offering a particular kind of experience, and people want to take part. I handle that end so you're free to do what you do—draw them in."

Liam had always known there was a fundamental difference in their approach. Krish was a numbers man, a scientist and business builder. He didn't even particularly believe in what Liam did. "The problem is that what I'm trying to offer is a connection to spiritual experiences, to keying into something bigger and better than any number. It's not quantifiable."

"The revenue says otherwise. It's definitely quantifiable. It's made both of us wealthy. Bought your mum a proper house, and mine the travel she wants to see her relatives, and my dad a car he's not ashamed of. What about those things? I know you understand that money is not just money. It's comfort and quiet and cleanliness."

"We have enough! More than enough. I need some time to collect myself, get some balance back in my life."

"By bonking some woman and falling in love and thinking she's going to solve all your problems. Again?"

"You're so focused on doing this your way that you set me up with a woman you thought would be my catnip, like sitting an alcoholic down with a bottle of whiskey." The anger dissipated as he spoke the truth. "That's not the action of a person I can trust."

"Overstating it a bit, aren't you? It didn't work. You've proved you've done the work. Problem solved."

"No. You betrayed me." He stood, feeling clarity. "You're done."

"Done?"

"You're fired."

"You're firing me? That's a laugh. The whole business will fall apart."

"I doubt it. There are a few very talented people on staff, but even if it's true, I can't be in such a close relationship with someone who betrayed me so deeply." He held out his hand. "Give me your phone, please."

For a long, long beat, Krish stared at him, then handed over the business phone and walked out.

Liam called Yolanda. "Can you come down to my room, please? Do not let Krish into any of our spaces."