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I exhaled, deciding to walk to the crosswalk, get my coffee from the coffee shop and explore a bit more before my appointment to pick up my keys at the Airbnb in Chelsea. Despite my near-collision with a bicycle courier, I felt excited about being in Manhattan.
For the first time since Jerkface and I split, I felt a real sense of possibility – like my new life was starting and I could put the old sad one behind me.
Chapter Four
Joshua
I met my brothers outside the building on Fifth Avenue later that afternoon. David was scheduled to fly back to LA and so we wanted to get together once more before he left. I slipped on a pair of aviators and watched as all four of my brothers did the same. We were our father's sons. My dad had been a pilot in the Korean War, and each of us had also joined the service. I'd spent time in the US Army as an intelligence officer. My other brothers had joined either the Air Force, like our father, or the National Guard, like David had.
"Come on, men," Christian said, adjusting his aviators and turning to us. "Let's go out and get drunk."
David clapped Christian on the back. "Yeah, let's get some pussy, too, seeing as we're going to be suffering a drought of it if we have to get married just to get access to our money. What do you say about Gibson's? I have a back booth reserved for me any night of the week when I'm in town. There's some really high-quality ass that frequents the place."
Everyone turned to me, as the big brother and now head of the family.
"You need a drink, after your collision," David said. "How are your elbows and knees?"
I bent my elbow, which was currently bandaged, as were both my knees. "I can hack it but honestly, a drink sounds like the perfect idea," I said, badly needing a scotch. "Gibson's it is."
We piled into my Lexus SUV and I drove to Gibson's, a very popular club with an attached high-end restaurant in the financial district. Once there, I handed my keys to the valet and we went inside. It was early, but there was an afternoon crowd there already celebrating happy hour.
David walked up to the hostess station like he owned the place. The young woman behind the counter gasped, her eyes widening when she recognized him. She was pretty in an overly-made up way, with hair piled on top of her head and a tight black dress that displayed her obviously-surgically-enhanced breasts.
"Cindy, baby," he said, and gave her a huge smile.
"David Macintyre," she exclaimed when she saw David, her face lighting up. "It's so good to see you again. Please come in. We haven't seen you for weeks!"
She smiled and I could tell she was a little star-struck that David was there. Hell, a lot star-struck. She glanced at the rest of us, but we weren't as notorious as David, the rock star.
"I thought you were on tour," Cindy said.
"Flew in for some family business," David said, and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. "Reading of the will. Can you take us to my usual booth?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry. Of course," she said and held her hand over her heart and made a sad face. "I read about your father's passing in the paper." Then she led us through the bar to a large leather booth in the rear of the space.
"I thought he was too ornery to die," David said, "but I guess not. Hey, wanna marry me? I need a wife, and fast, so I can inherit my money." He gave her the biggest grin I'd ever seen. When her face froze, like she was trying to decide if he was being serious, he laughed out loud. "Just kidding, babe. No one's going to own this ass any time soon. Fuck the will." Then he slid into the booth next to me. Poor Cindy looked despondent that he would joke with her like that.
"Your waitress will be with you right away. Enjoy your evening." She gave us all a quick smile and then left us alone. I imagine she'd tell that story to her friends and they'd all ohh and ahh about being proposed to – even in a joking way – by the David Macintyre.
"You're a heartless bastard," Christian said, shoving David. "Getting that poor young woman's hopes up and then crushing them."
"I know, I know. I'm so mean." David grinned widely. "In her heart, she knew I was joking."
I turned to him and shook my head in disgust. Affectionate disgust, but still disgust.
"I hope to hell you fall madly in love with a woman and then she says, 'Just kidding.' Then you'll know how it feels."
All my brothers turned to me, and the expressions on their faces told me I'd just fucked up royally. Michael laid a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, bro. You still hurting over Christie? You need some sweet thing to take away all that pain."
"Fuck off," I said and shoved him, only somewhat affectionately. Then I softened and gave him a smile. "Just kidding."
"No, you weren't," he said, his tone serious. "You need to give it time."
"How can he afford give it time?" David asked, oblivious as usual to other people's problems. "If he wants to use some of that money, he has to get married and stay married for at least a year. It sucks ass," he said and smacked his hand onto the tabletop. "I'm not buying into Dad's man-in-a-grey-flannel-suit fantasy of marital and family bliss. I'm staying single–I'll enjoy as much pussy as I can for as long as I'm able. If Josh's smart, he will too." He turned to me. "You don't need his money. You'll make enough in stock options as CEO that you won't need it."
"You really are a scoundrel." Michael smiled and hung his arm around David's neck. "We all need our share of a quarter billion dollars. Come on, get real. Marriage won't be so bad. You're gonna do it someday. Might as well be sooner than later."
For the rest of the evening, we drank, toasted our father, and cursed his terms in equal measure.
