Page 132 of Broken Brothers

I sighed but couldn’t get angry at Morgan here. He didn’t know anything of her past. He didn’t know anything of her other than that she was the woman who had made a mockery in front of much of the New York City business crowd. In his eyes, Layla was probably the devil.

And, frankly, it was very possible that he wasn’t wrong if she was still lying about things.

“I know, I know, that’s a conversation for a different day. It doesn’t matter, she’s not going to see me right now.”

“I fucking hope so,” Morgan said. “I wouldn’t trust that woman to hold my bottle of water, let alone talk to about business.”

I bit my lip, looking to avoid escalating another fight.

“Fucking a,” I said, having to laugh at myself as I examined my swelling knuckles. “At least Sarah Hill is coming in next week.”

“Wait, who?”

I knew Morgan recognized the name immediately—he just couldn’t believe the name. In his defense, I also could barely believe it when I saw the name pop up.

“Sarah Hill,” I said, registering a small smile. “The one from middle school.”

“For real?”

“Yep, we’ve been flirting on Facebook back and forth,” I said. “She’s even sent me some photos. Apparently she got into some modeling in New Zealand.”

“Really,” Morgan said.

“Oh, yeah, dude, I’ll show you some other time when…”

I pulled out my phone. I realized I had never responded to Sarah’s message. I also thought about the optics of showing my brother a naked pic of a girl who was going to be spending time with me soon and decided better of it—better to save it after she had left. I didn’t want to risk the chance that she would appear, my brother would blurt something out, and then I wouldn’t get anything.

“When she’s gone,” I said. “Some secrets are best left for after the fact.”

“You could say that,” Morgan said. “And she’s coming here?”

“Indeed,” I said, proudly wearing a smile on my face.

“Huh, weird,” Morgan said. “I thought she was at a program in Oxford for the fall. Didn’t realize she’d get the free time to come down to New York City.”

“Maybe she’s on fall break or something,” I said, although I found it a bit strange that Sarah hadn’t mentioned anything about her being at an MBA program. Then again, she hadn’t mentioned much besides us flirting back and forth. It was like we were two teenagers who couldn’t have given a shit what the other one took for classes—we just wanted each other’s bodies.

“Well, regardless,” Morgan said. “Sorry about tonight. I’ll talk to Claire and do some investigating. Don’t worry, Chance. Iswear to you. I’m on your side. You may not believe it. We have different ways of tackling this. But I swear I’m on your side.”

As if to prove a point, he stood up, walked over to me, and offered his hand. I took it, shook it, and then shook my own hand to get rid of the pain.

“You really fucked up your hand, huh? Who did you box?”

“You don’t want to know. And you’re asking the wrong question?”

“You went MMA on someone?”

“It’s more like what did I box.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“Yep, this one’s going to hurt like a fucker the next few days. But it’ll be fine.”

I suddenly felt extraordinarily tired, and why wouldn’t I? I’d had drinks with Layla, had an emotionally turbulent night with Claire, and had all but come to blows with my brother. It was hard to think of a more physically demanding evening that didn’t involve sex in some capacity.

“Dude, I think I’m going to bed,” I said, taking my phone. “Sorry for blowing up.”

“I would have too if the roles were reversed,” Morgan said. “So don’t sweat it. Get some sleep. We’ll come up with a strategy in the AM.”