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, and that made it lighter to bear.
“How long has it been?” George asked.
Neal knew what he meant, but he still counted internally before he answered. He had been only twenty-two, and George had been twenty-six.
“Seven years now,” Neal replied.
“Seven years,” George repeated, “seems like it's been longer.”
“Funny, to me it feels like it happened yesterday,” Neal said, but then he amended, “but then again, I didn’t have a business to keep afloat.”
“I was lucky,” George said modestly. “Dad handed me a well-oiled machine. I just had to pay attention, that’s all.”
“You were twenty-six,” Neal told him, “and you were not only handed a massive responsibility, but you were also given a small fortune.”
George laughed.
“I’m just saying,” Neal explained, “you could have done what I did… and pissed away your money.”
“You didn’t piss it all away,” George said gently.
“Because I had you there to rein me in,” Neal said honestly. “If it weren’t for you I would have blown that cash on drugs, booze and women.”
George laughed. “You make yourself sound more interesting than you actually are.”
That was just like George. He was modest even when he didn’t have to be, and he shied away from credit that he was rightfully due. Neal always felt woefully inadequate in his brother’s presence, but he loved George too much to feel any real envy.
“I did go through a phase,” Neal said defensively.
“A short one.”
“Fine, whatever – a short one. Still, I could have ended up on the streets.”
“From your drug habit, no doubt,” George laughed.
“Why is that so hard to believe?” Neal asked, attempting to kick at his brother and narrowly missing.
“You’ve tried pot, yes?” George asked.
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
Neal hesitated. “Twice.”
Both he and George started cracking up at that. They laughed at themselves, each other, and the strange and unplanned route both their lives had taken. George had always had an interest in the company, but it had more to do with his father’s personal investment, than a genuine appeal for the sports equipment trade.
George had watched his father’s stringent work ethic and tried to emulate that as far as he could manage. He had taken on a series of internships in the company since he was old enough to have a summer job and, as a result, he began to enjoy the work and the atmosphere.
Neal, on the other hand, had never had the head for business. He was indecisive about his life and his future. He had no real goals or ambitions. He sailed along aimlessly, looking for the next adventure. He lived a life of privilege bought for him by his father and his brother, and because of that, he had nothing pushing him to make a decision or to stick to it. He held jobs when he wanted to, he left them because he grew bored. Neal was safe in his wayward lifestyle. He had the safety net that his father had set up for him, and his brother had secured.
“Let’s go to Hawaii next week,” Neal said spontaneously, “just us brothers, and maybe we can take Harry, too.”
George rolled his eyes. “Unlike some people, I have a job, and so does Harry.”
“You’re the president of that damn company,” Neal said dismissively, “you can take a week off.”
“If I took a week off, I might not be president for much longer.”
