Chapter 39
Dexter
Mom has never dreamed of selling or turning it over to a historical society, even if the old place is an expensive drag on her finances.
She’s always been happy living in the shadow of the past.
Unlike the rest of us, she just slipped into being a Rory when she was young without ever questioning it. Without the long nights soul searching, bothered by that shadow of a greatness I never had a damned thing to do with.
Patton and Archer’s cars are already parked in the huge driveway. I pull in behind them once I’m through the gate.
I’m instantly annoyed that I’m arriving late.
Archer never misses a reason to rake me over the coals, and Patton will just be a smug little prick that he made it here before me.
And now I’ve got this fake date with Haute and Junie simmering in the back of my mind.
It’s just bad fucking timing, all the way around.
Patton and Archer wait for me in the drawing room like they always do
-because of course this house has a drawing room.
Like always, Archer stands by the fireplace with a glass of whiskey in his hand like he’s just stepped out of some fucking Victorian drama. Patton slumps on the sofa, playing with the tassels on one of the ancient cushions.
Mom herself is MIA.
“Where’s Mom?” I ask, joining Patton on the sofa. “You’re late,” Archer growls.
“Very observant.” I roll my eyes. “Too bad that doesn’t answer my question.”
Archer shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t know. She’s probably in the kitchen making sure the cook doesn’t mess up dinner.”
“You know Mom,” Patton huffs. “If she ever learns to sit down, we should worry.”
She’s not the only one in this family, but I’m not here to pick a fight, so I just listen to them talk about Colt’s latest woodwork creations.
If the dinner with Jo Winkley was a hurdle, then this would be a damn mountain to climb.
But I’m not bringing Junie here to fake out my family. I also need to stop thinking about that kiss.
“How’d the meeting go?” Archer asks, turning his attention back to me. “Jesus, dude. You ever heard of leaving work at the office?”
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Patton leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Wait, you met with Haute?
Did he finally hand over the paperwork?”
“Not yet. We just walked around the property and he promised we’d see it soon.” He also pinned me down for the dinner date from hell, but I leave that part out.
Archer frowns, tapping his finger against the mantel next to him. “I’m starting to doubt this whole thing…”
“Yeah! Because you hate taking risks,” Patton says, rolling his eyes. “This is our master key. A chance to make a real breakthrough.”
“Imagine what we’re risking if it goes bad,” Archer snarls. “The fact that he’s dragging his feet tells me there’s something we should wonder about.”
“While you’re busy wondering, Arch, I’ve been working on the hard details, lining up designers.” Patton stiffens sliding to the edge of his seat. “The mock–ups are coming in next week and you guys will eat your fucking words.”
There they go again.
The same personality clash that’s soured half our meetings ever since we started dreaming of this place.
Archer’s too cautious. Patton’s too impulsive.
Their approaches are night and day, and we can never agree on how to move forward–or even how to keep fucking moving when it’s a done deal in all but name only.
Though they’re both right about this one.
Forrest Haute is an oddball and there’s a decent chance there’s something else going on under the surface.
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.”
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Chapter 39
“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 bankrupt 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.
Chapter 39
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.
Chapter 40
Chapter 40
