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Gabriel laughs. “Mason. Seriously. If you want that part of the company to get bigger, we can handle it.”
Mason gazes at the ceiling. “Jamesoncan handle it. I’m confident in his abilities.”
The dots connect forcibly, like a body hitting concrete. “Wait. Are you giving me a promotion?”
“That’s literally what he just said,” sings Gabriel.
Mason nods. “You’ve built Phoenix’s portfolio of legacy properties, Jameson. You’re too smart not to have the title and responsibility to match.”
“We’re talking about acquisition and development, right?”
“And big-picture management.” My older brother folds his arms casually over his chest and leans back in his chair. “You have the vision for these places. This way, you can have the staff and budget you need to take them through to active occupancy. Liaise with organizations. Find the people who are invested in the properties the wayyou’reinvested.”
Because Iamalways invested. Only not for the reasons Mason thinks. “In terms of title, what—”
“VP of Community Development. Your office would be up here, with ours.”
With his and Gabriel’s offices, he means. Now that Gabriel’s at Phoenix as VP of Acquisitions, he and Mason are thick as thieves on the CEO’s floor.
“Wow, Mase. That’s a huge deal.” In about a few good ways and a hundred terrible ones.
Mason smiles, and it kills me. He’s genuinely happy about this move.
He seems genuinely proud of me.
There’s nothing to be proud of.
I’m a joke, and the punch line is that I’m sitting here in a tailored suit with a leather portfolio in front of me. Thejokeis that I look like my brothers.
I’m not. I’m a crime scene. I’ve been going through the motions of a respectable life since last fall, when Gabriel almost died and Mason announced that his wife, Charlotte, was pregnant. I’ve been faking my recent law-abiding attitude with everything I have,and they think it’s real.
All of it is a lie. Showing up on time, participating in meetings, wearing pressed suits—those things aren’t real. This outfit is a costume. My newfound dedication to work and being a law-abiding citizen is nothing but smoke and mirrors. I’m burning down on the inside, and I don’t know how long I have before the fire eats through the studs and steel beams and the whole damn thing goes down.
“So you like the idea?” I’m dead. Mason’s thrilled, and he’s trying to be cautious. He’s trying to act like I’m on the same level as he is. “If you do, you could start on Monday.”
“And we could celebrate at brunch,” sings Gabriel. “It’s going to be the last good brunch before all that cold front shit happens.”
I don’t know what cold front shit he’s talking about. Mason watches me, enough hope in his eyes to kill a horse.
“If youdon’t—” Mason starts.
“I love it.” I stand up and put my hand out. I don’t know what I’m trying to do. It’s the boss who’s supposed to offer to shake, not the self-destructing brother with a solid masking strategy, but whatever. Mason takes my hand, and I keep lying. “This is going to be an incredible move. I knew you had it in you, Mase.”
“Hadwhatin me?”
“The strength to recognize me as your greatest asset.” Gabriel claps me on the shoulder, and I shake his hand, too. “I hope you won’t take it too hard, Gabe.”
“I’m taking you titans of industry out for drinks.” Gabriel claps his hands and exchanges a glance with Mason. My brothers planned this. “This is a momentous day.”
“Yeah.” Mason covers his mouth with his hand. He’sbeaming. This is a dream come true for him. All of us working together at the family company. All of us happy. None of us the smoldering wreckage of our past. Gabriel’s misty-eyed onMason’sbehalf. He finally thinks we’re all okay. “This is a dream come true.”
* * *
My performance as Jameson Hill,real-estate savant and man who has his shit together, has the highest stakes at Saturday brunch, especially now that I’ve accepted the vice president position at Mason’s company.
These brunches started last summer before Mason met Charlotte. Now they’re practically an institution. Another bullshit dream—falling in love and having it make me into a respectable family man like my father instead of a reckless asshole who’s one arrest away from prison time. I’m rich as hell, but I’ll never be like my dad. Even when it hurts how much I still want to.
“Jameson.” Charlotte, Mason’s wife, leans against the countertop in the kitchen, her arms supporting her eight-months-plus pregnant belly. “Thank God you’re here.”
