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“And a good morning to you, too,” my brother said pleasantly, flipping the page of the newspaper. “Your delightful chef offered to make me crepes, but I told her I would wait for you to decide.”
I groaned and rubbed my face. “How did you even get in here?”
“You know how.” He slid me the business section as I got my own espresso.
“I have a multimillion dollar security system,” I snapped, glancing at the headlines. “I wasn’t talking about breaking and entering or boosting cars.”
“Now that was an adventure,” my brother said, grinning at me. “What a bohemian existence, Max. Never knowing where our next meal was coming from, always trying to stay one step ahead of the law. Living in the moment!”
“Don’t tell me you’re feeling nostalgic,” I grumbled, begrudgingly taking the seat next to him at the countertop. “What a ridiculous fucking thing to miss.”
He elbowed me. “You miss it. I know you do. You were born to claw your way up.”
“I don't miss a goddamned thing,” I said, checking emails on my phone. “There’s always room to improve. I’m just happy we don’t have to do it in the back alleys of Moscow anymore.” I eyed him. “What's wrong with you? What are you doing here? You never answered me yesterday.”
Alexei finished his espresso. “Let’s discuss this over crepes. I’ll call your chef.”
I laid a hand on his shoulder. “Stop. I know you’re not just here to break into my house for fun and eat all my crepes. Talk to me.”
My brother laughed. “You’re going to think I’m an idiot.”
“Too late for that.”
“I miss those days in Moscow because we had a goal to work toward,” he said. “Or perhaps a goal to work away from. We wanted to make something of ourselves.”
“And we did. And continue to do so.”
He shook his head. “You did.”
“Lex, I offered you a position at the company. You didn’t take it.”
“The company was your dream. Not mine.”
“Then what do you want to do?” I asked. “You want a job? You want to keep traveling? You know that whatever is mine is yours. You can do whatever you want. I’ll support you.”
“Whatever is yours is mine? What about Ruth Miracle?”
I laughed. “You know damn well I don’t share. She’s mine.”
“We'll see,” Alexei said, straightening, a spark of his competitive self returning. “It’s not over until it’s over. She might prefer me. I am the most handsome between us two, after all.”
“You misunderstand. I meant that she’s already mine.”
He whistled. “You move fast, brother.”
“I set goals. I achieve them. I set additional goals.” I slid the rest of the paper away from him. “That’s important, Lex. No matter what the goals might be. What about you? What have you achieved lately? More importantly, what do you want to achieve?”
“I travel a lot. Get to see a lot of beautiful places. Be with a lot of beautiful women.” He fidgeted with his empty espresso cup. “But the more I travel, the more things I see, the more I think that it should all have some kind of purpose. That maybe there’s no meaning to what I’m doing because I’m not sharing those moments with anyone.”
“So you want to date someone?” I laughed. “That’s what all this is about? You stopped traveling the world and came to visit your big brother in San Francisco because you were lonely?”
“Fuck you, Max,” he complained, even as he laughed too. “You’re such an asshole. You use everything I tell you against me.”
“If you need a woman, then get one,” I said. “Put that on a goddamned dating profile: ‘Lonely billionaire seeks woman to travel with.’ You’ll have to hire your own personal security team to keep them off of you.”
“I don’t think of myself as a billionaire.”
“But you are,” I said. “Volkov Telecom belongs to both of us. I’ve already told you. Now order your fucking crepes and stop sulking around here. I don't have time for this. I have to go to work.”
