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)
“I know, I know. Fuck. You wanted to keep this whole thing quiet, but do you think Haute’s really going to buy that if our own family doesn’t know?” His grin has never looked more punchable. “Look, Bro, she’ll get over it.”
I don’t want her to get over it.
I especially don’t want to involve Junie in any family drama more than strictly necessary, but that ship has sailed. And knowing my luck, it’s about to catch fire and capsize.
“I don’t know what your problem is,” Patton continues, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “This is a big night for us and Parisian Oasis. Looks like I’m celebrating alone.”
“You want to know my problem? You’re my fucking problem, Pat—”
“Guys.” Archer shoves a glass of champagne at me. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but Pat’s right, Dex. This isn’t the time or place. We’re here to kick off a success, never mind the quirks. Let’s not blow it over personal shit.”
The man is right, but that doesn’t make me any happier about my little brother’s fuckery.
“Yeah, okay. It’s all good, wiring aside,” I say.
Patton frowns. “Wiring? Oh, we’re not just going to roll with it?”
“This is a win,” Archer continues, ignoring him like the ass-clown he is. “And we’re toasting it, all right?”
“Fine,” I say, throwing the champagne back. “Look at me, celebrating.”
“As for you, Pat,” Archer says, turning to Patton, who frowns, disconcerted, “you need to stop letting your big mouth get you into trouble.”
“Oh, so it’s my big mouth that’s the problem?”
Archer raises an eyebrow and glares at him.
“Fuck,” Patton says, good natured all over again. “I guess you’ve got me there.” He sends me a quick, unrepentant look. “Sorry for telling Mom you’re engaged and getting you in waist-deep shit, I guess.”
“The engagement is as real as your half-assed apology,” I snap.
“Oh, right. Sorry for telling Mom you’re fake engaged and getting you in deep shit.” The smile slides from his face as he grabs a martini from a passing tray. “Man, this Haute deal is a giant pain in my ass.”
“Don’t you know it,” Archer says.
“A pain in all our asses,” I agree, setting my empty glass down. “If we didn’t need Haute to sign off on this, I’d be tempted to find one of his old friends and have him bumped off.”
“Dex, not funny,” Archer snarls, gesturing to the growing gaggle of people milling around a short distance away.
“Bad joke. Sorry.”
We should be milling, too, but I’ve never been less in the mood for casual conversation with strangers.
I roll my eyes and Patton grins at me. I don’t grin back, but it’s something.
Almost like we can share the same oxygen again, or at least band together against Archer when we need to.
“You know,” Patton says, “if I could do it again, I might have thought a little harder about the whole deal.”
I try not to snort.
That’s about as close to humility as Pat gets.
My family doesn’t do big apologies. Not like most people.
We’re all stubborn as fuck—Mom included in her own bless-your-heart way—and a genuine apology is rarer than a visit from the goddamned tooth fairy.
Archer swings his attention back to us.
“You might’ve been right to go for it,” he says, folding his arms. “I’ve been combing the public records, tax records, anything on Haute that’s out there. Went through it all and I’ll admit, I can’t find shit.”
Am I getting a two-for-one?
Two almost-apologies from my terrible brothers in one night. I should’ve bought a lottery ticket with this luck.
“My gut says I should see it, but there’s nothing there. Just the same old rumors that Haute climbed into bed with the mob for some casino somewhere in the Ozarks. A lot of shady business goes down there, but it’s not our turf.” Archer shrugs. “Didn’t mean to add to the stress about this whole deal, but I had to be sure.”
Half of me doesn’t want to accept it’s just this easy, even though there’s nothing to be uneasy about if Archer hasn’t found anything.
I let it go.
Although I won’t be happy until I’ve got a signed contract in my hand and no more uncertainty.
Soon, one of our main investors comes over to talk with us.
Showtime.
I force a smile I don’t feel while I take another good look around this place. We had the whole thing gutted and revamped, right down to the gold-edged glass doors that lead into the lobby.
Everything about it screams money. Passersby on the streets look up at the building and peer inside with yawning curiosity and sometimes a little jealousy.
This isn’t even close to the grandeur we have planned for the Mill, if we can just push this damn thing through. And the revenue from these condos will certainly help jumpstart us there.
I grab another drink and let it douse my guts with flames.