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“Don’t,” I say firmly.
He ignores me. “Are you ever going to forgive …?”
I cut him off. “I’m not sure I can forgive her.”
“I was going to ask if you’re ever going to forgive yourself.”
My eyes bulge. “Why? I don’t blame myself for how things are between me and Tori.”
“Don’t you?” he asks, like the smug prick he is.
“Fuck you!” I turn away and go to the door.
As I turn the knob and open the door, he says, “I’ve been there, little brother. Hating myself so much that I shut everyone out, and fucking a different girl every night. It won’t solve anything.”
I slam the door shut and spin around. “Would you be giving me this lecture if Tori had picked me, if it was my ring on her finger? What if it was my baby? Would you give a shit then?”
He doesn’t react to my yelling, or the questions that were intended to hurt. Calmly he says, “I want what’s best for you, and I know from experience that bars and women aren’t the answer.”
“I’m not you!”
“No?” he asks, and slides a newspaper across the counter. “Sure as hell looks like it to me.”
A picture of me with the redhead on my lap graces the front page. “Oh, yeah, and this is a reliable news story.”
“The source isn’t relevant. Your behavior and how it affects the company is. People are beginning to doubt you. They look for security in a company they allow to invest their fortune. A man with a different woman every night, stumbling out of bars, isn’t reassuring to our clients.”
I bite my lip so I won’t laugh. Brady never wanted the company, he keeps it to honor his dead father. “Like you give a shit about the company.”
“Just because I chose not to be involved in the company, doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to it.”
My jaw shifts back and forth, and I tap my fingers on the counter. I don’t want to argue. “Just lay off, okay?”
“I can’t do that.”
Pain sears through each knuckle, traveling up my wrist as I pound my fist on the counter several times. I turn to face him, my teeth clenched. “Why not?”
“Because you’re smarter than me. Because I expect more from you, and because I love you.”
His unexpected response irritates me. I’m not in the mood for warm and fuzzy. “Ah, that’s touching, bro. Excuse me while I find a tissue. Oh, wait, maybe you want to write a love note on it first.”
It was a dig at Tori and the little notes he writes her on tissues and leaves around the house. He draws in a breath and releases it slowly. I’ve finally triggered his anger. “Can you stop with the juvenile antics and take this seriously?”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to grow up, and if you can’t, then at least put on a good show in public.”
“Wow, that’s rich. You know who you sound like?”
His lips press flat. The room quiets for a moment, and I wait for Brady to punch me. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed when he doesn’t. “Don’t compare me to her!”
“You mean to Mom? A woman who spent most her life putting on a good show, painting a pretty picture in public when the reality she lived with was a fucking lie. You want me to pretend everything is hunky-dory. How is that any different from her?”
“You’re already pretending. I want you to yell at me, tell Tori and me to fuck off, whatever it takes to move on. As far as the business goes, I want you to act responsibly.”
“Great, I’ll use a condom. Responsible enough for you?”
He sighs loudly and rubs the back of his neck. “We’re obviously getting nowhere. I wanted to talk to you before the board meets. They have concerns.”
