Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
But Patton’s also right—if we pull this off, it’ll be our biggest deal to date. Hands down, the best damn thing that’s ever happened to this company.
If we pull this off.
“If we did everything the way you wanted, we’d still be struggling to get a single property under our belt,” Patton says, folding his arms. My younger brother might be impulsive as all hell, and he might have gotten the charm gene, but he’s got a temper to match. “You’re holding us back, Arch. We need to take risks to grow.”
His eyes snap to me, asking me for support.
Not taking the bait. Not today.
“Then let’s talk about risks that won’t destroy us,” Archer bites off. “You’re not careful and you’re damn sure not in the right mind to slow down and think this through.”
“Fuck off,” Patton throws back. “The only times we ever stopped thinking and made a move were because of risks I said we should take.”
“Risks that I moderated.”
“Oh, so now you’re taking the credit?” Patton snorts.
“For not letting you blow up our company and send us into bankruptcy or worse? Yeah, I’ll take the credit for that.”
Patton’s hands are fists now, sitting like boulders on his knees. “Could you check your fucking ego for once and just go with it? We took a vote. We decided. We’re doing it.”
Enough.
I hold up my hands. “Guys, we’re not at work. Save it for another time.”
“Shut up, Dex,” Patton says, pointing a stern finger at me. “You’re half the reason we’re in this mess now.”
“And we wouldn’t have been in this mess at all if you’d just listened to me instead of forging ahead with this Haute business.” Archer glowers at Patton. “If you want to find someone to blame, take a good long look in the mirror.”
“Goddamn, you’re always ready to pass out blame, aren’t you? I’m today’s scapegoat, but tomorrow it’ll be Dex. Fuck you and fuck this.” Patton stands.
I get a wicked sense of déjà vu.
They’ve done this plenty of times, bickered and fought and fallen out for weeks while I try to patch up stupid shit between them.
Middle brother duties, I suppose.
They both fight with me, too, but never to the crushing extremes they go at each other. Makes sense when there’s almost ten years between them. Sometimes, it feels like there’s a whole damn generation.
Archer storms across the room, rolling up his sleeves like they’re actually going to fight right here, right now, in the middle of Mom’s drawing room.
I swear I could choke them both.
“You guys done? We’re not doing this shit at home.” I get between them before they can react and shove them apart. No easy task when they’re both about as big as I am, but it catches them off their feet and sends them spinning in opposite directions.
Mom has the best timing, choosing that very second to sweep into the room with her signature mandarin perfume and fluttering scarves.
For a second, she stops and stares, hard disapproval pinched between her eyebrows.
“You boys are fighting in the house?” she asks, mortified, though she already knows the answer.
The tension hangs in the room, thicker than cement.
Archer is the first to give it up, tucking his hands behind his back and muttering, “Sorry, Mom. Heated business discussion.”
“And I expect better, no matter how ‘heated’ it gets. No money can ever be worth it.” Her gaze falls on each of us like a judge, holding the same power it did when we were little.
And just like when we were kids, we line up with our hands behind our backs, waiting to be chastised.
“Oh, what is it now? I thought you’d scored your big opportunity.”
Patton glances across at me, clearing his throat. “Actually, Mom, it wasn’t all business… We were just having a friendly disagreement over someone’s wedding plans.”
Shit, shit, he didn’t.
But he did, and he’s going to pay brutally.
Mom’s eyes widen, go glassy, and then widen some more until they’re about to pop right out of her head. As they should—this isn’t small news.
Since things fell apart with Archer’s ex, no one’s brought a woman around for Mom’s approval. And the fact that Patton just dropped a tactical nuke means I might not walk out of here alive.
“Who?” she asks breathlessly. “Which one of my boys is getting married?”
Archer and Patton both look at me.
If I die tonight, I’m going out as a murderer.
11
SWEETEN THE DEAL (JUNIPER)
I haven’t hurt this much in—maybe forever.
My feet, my legs, and things I don’t even want to mention are about to fall off, pounded into soreness.
The Sugar Bowl is finally doing well, bringing in steady traffic and fresh faces. But that also means three times the workload.
Even now, as I drag myself up the stairs to my apartment with my laptop tucked under my arm, my day isn’t over.