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“And how are we supposed to find someone with that kind of cash on this short notice?” Jake asks, tossing up his arms. “Specifically, someone who doesn’t want to operate the space with their own business.”
My overheated skin cools. The overworked gears in my brain slow. Could salvaging Jo’s business really be that simple? Was I so distraught, I couldn’t come up with that basic answer?
“I actually have the cash,” I say, desperately hopeful that I can fix this for her.
“How the fuck do you have that kind of cash?” Jake sounds furious all over again. He doesn’t like being in the dark.
Lennon leans back, smug. “Must be the stripping he does on the side.”
I lift my middle finger. Again.
Desmond’s jaw pops. “Is it from Dad’s book money? You invested it?”
“Some, yeah. Jake and I used part for our business, and I invested the rest.” The cash our asshole father earned from his tell-all biography, given to us like it absolved him of his betrayal. At least some good came of that money. “The rest of my nest egg was from the WITSEC cash at the start. I played the stock market. Made good moves. Added earnings over the years and used it to pay Sandra. I have enough to get a mortgage on the bar.”
Even if that plan works, E’s solution would only solve part of my problem.
Lennon steps back from me. “If you can buy the building, why do you look like you’re about to puke?”
“I can’t keep this from Jo. Whatever happens, I have to tell her what I did, which means I’ll lose her all over again.” But it would be my fault this time, not my criminal father’s. I look at my brothers, barely able to swallow. “I don’t think I can love another woman like I love her. She’s it for me.”
E grips my arms, usurping Jake’s oldest-brother move. “You’re it for her too. She might need time to get over this, but Jolene knows you. She knows you have good intentions, even if you overstep. She loves you too much to walk away. Sorry,” he adds to Jake with a wince.
E doesn’t go on about the awkwardness of Jo and me in the wake of Jo and Jake. But yeah, my fucking family. Always on the complicated side of messed up.
Jake holds up his hands. “Don’t worry about me. I’m tired of dealing with Cal’s work mistakes. If he’s with Jo, he’s less likely to saw through his hand.”
“Excellent older brother selflessness,” Lennon says. “Does this mean we can crack jokes about Jolene choosing the brother packing more heat?”
Jake headlocks Lennon, dragging his upper body down. Desmond locks eyes with Jake. A shared smirk later, Des grabs the band of Lennon’s exposed boxers and yanks them up in a wedgie. Lennon yowls. Jake and E laugh so hard they nearly fall over. I’m actually smiling on this debacle of a day, not shaking while descending into a panic attack.
Thank God for my immature family.
Unfortunately, when I head to my truck and the daunting tasks I have to face, my smile slips into a grimace. If Lennon’s wrong, if Jo doesn’t forgive me, I doubt family wedgies will make a dent in my devastation.
chapterforty-one
Callahan
As I wait for Francisca outside of her house, someone calls my name and waves. I lift my hand and nod but don’t bother checking who it is. The brightly painted homes and prettily lined trees barely register. Jolene has texted me. The messages are no doubt filled with anger over her meeting with Francisca, but I haven’t read them. Seeing her devastation will siphon my meager fortitude. Instead, I focus on a swatch of grass while I spin over my offer—how I’ll convince Francisca to sell me her building.
No big deal. Just a light conversation that’ll alter the course of Jolene’s life.
Francisca’s blue sedan pulls up. She frowns at me through her windshield.
I wipe my damp palms on my jeans. Don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life.
“What brings you by, Cal?” Francisca’s face is drawn, like she came from a stressful situation. Namely, killing Jolene’s dreams.
I bite my cheek and get my head in this game. I may have hung up my meddling ways, but I’m good at swaying people with suggestive words.
“I’m here,” I say, gathering my confidence, “to offer you peace of mind.”
She squints at me. “Have you convinced my grandson to get a proper job and quit thinking his sock-puppet TikTok videos will be his ticket to fame?”
“Sadly, no. This is a business visit.”
“Shame, but I’m all ears.” She hikes her purse up her shoulder. “What can I do for you?”
