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“Did Overton not come back at me, try his luck once more?”
“Yes, but . . .There’s a bigger friggen picture here, and you know it, Vic! Tell me why he was so angry. Screw the political talk, the stats. Give it to me straight for once.” Her tiny hands slap at my chest. “We go round in circles, arguing, fighting, fucking, and half of what I ask still goes unanswered. My questions. My love. All friggen unanswered!”
The muscles beneath my jaw jump. Done with our discussion, I stalk up the steps.
“Why was he angry, Vic? Why did he corner us?”
I round on her at the top of the landing, shouting, “Overton? It’s of no bloody importance!”
Luxury jumps, clasping the railing as my hands balance her slender waist. Tears spring to life in her eyes for the second time today. I let her go.
“Victor, I swear, I'll leave. You’re so guarded. Guarded as you were the day we met. You’re still keeping things from me. The man is dead. Tell me.”
Knackered, I rub the back of my neck, moving down the hall. “I bought his unsuccessful business.”
She follows me. “Elaborate. See, I can be as snappy and demanding as you.”
“Overton had a business, going under.” I hold open the door to our bedroom, flicking my wrist for her to proceed. “The investors were going to give him more time to pay his debts. They saw money and chose not to.”
“Your money?”
“Yes, Miss Whitson. You stare at me as if I'm vile or repulsive.”
“How long did he have the business?”
“What?”
“How long?”
“Forty or so years. You saw the man. I adjusted for the times.”
“What about consulting? Why not help people?”
“I take shite, Luxury. Business, lives,you!” I sneer. The mentality is fundamentally rooted in my core. My father’s motto–Reap, enjoy.
Taken aback by my tone, Luxury sniffles. I will not tell her I took Overton’s business on a whim just because she and I weren’t talking.
“You keep things from me, and you lie!”
“I have never lied to you,” I assure her yet again. The air between us retracts, sucking out all the oxygen in the room.
“Hello, mates, we’re back,” Graham says sheepishly. His arm hangs over Alba’s shoulder as they stand just outside of our bedroom door. “What’s with all the fuss?”
43
Luxury
“Graham, you’ve quite the big brother. He evades half the questions I ask. So, why don’t you tell me whyheleft Arlington?” My eyes are all over Graham as he places a designer overnight bag on the floor. The two had taken off for a few days after my dad came to town. Now, I realize I’ve come to depend on them.
“Come again?” Graham asks as he pulls out of his jacket and helps Alba with hers.
“You heard me loud and clear, Graham.” While this is an awful way to greet someone, I fold my arms over, unwilling to relent. “The day I stopasking, inquiring, and lacking initiative,that’s the day I no longer care for your brother.”
“Oh, Lux,” Graham grumps.
“Tell me why Victor left Arlington in the first place?”
Baffled, Graham points here and there in confusion. “Alba just left her passport in our room, um, so I think we will get it and go.”
