Page 32 of Savage Suit

Over the years, my siblings’ behavior taught me not to trust when they sought me out.

They believed me an unyielding crackpot, longing for his mommy.

“One drink. My treat, I promise,” he said, forgetting the affront and gentling his tone.

Folding my arms, I lifted a brow, still suspicious.

He entwined his index and middle finger. “Scouts’ honor, I swear.”

“Fine,” I barked, stalking ahead and entering the bar, not pointing out he’d never been a Boy Scout.

After opening the door, I wiped my hand on my trousers, wishing for hand sanitizer. My previous travel-sized bottle had run out days ago, and I had yet to replace it. Who knew what germs dwelled on the doorknob?

Nathaniel skirted around me, then halted so abruptly that I nearly bumped into him. “Watch out,” I snapped.

“Why so grumpy, bro?” He didn’t give a fuck about the answer because he spoke again. “Never mind. Let me show you to my favorite table.”

His favorite table? He visited the place so often that he had a fucking favorite table? I gnashed my teeth to keep from voicing my displeasure at his taste in bars. It would only fall on deaf ears.

We passed a beat-up jukebox next to the long, worn bar with at least a dozen stools. At the very back of the establishment, we bypassed dingy booths, continuing to a small wooden table against the wall, surrounded by three wooden chairs.

Before wearing this suit again, I’d have my dry cleaner disinfect the tainted fabric. Grime, a huge pet peeve, overran the place.

Once seated, I waited for Nathaniel to explain why he had brought me here. Instead, he stared at me, tight-lipped. I lost patience, angry he wasted my time. “Why did you invite me to this bar, Nathaniel?”

Selecting a project manager for the Amage contract was critical and an unexpected challenge. A substantial percentage of the most qualified candidates were women. Typically, I missed interviews and remained out of the office until a female candidate lost patience and left. My machinations were no longer a sustainable course with the volume of applicants.

Since I had the pleasure of meeting her, one woman occupied my mind. Despite her limited years in the industry, Ryan Hagen was more than qualified, graduating at the top of her class with experience from her previous job. Her reaction to my ‘lateness’ showed the backbone to be a top dog in advertising. Contacting her and scheduling another interview seesawed in my thoughts. A female project manager seemed likely, so why shouldn’t it be her?

She was also fucking gorgeous, an unimportant detail in the scheme of things. Except for me. Her beautiful gray eyes, golden skin and wealth of dark hair lived in my dreams.

“Why can’t you believe I wanted to spend time with my eldest brother?” Nate’s question snapped me to the present. “When was the last time you hung out with me? Hell, any of us?”

“Two months ago, at Tina’s birthday party.”

“You showed up to forestall rumors of a Keegan rift, asshole. Not since Dad died have you wanted to spend time with us. Am I wrong?”

Quite fucking wrong. My mother’s death hung between my other siblings and me. My father demanded we gather each month for family dinners. If not for Nicholas working at the company, I would see him as sporadically as I did my sister and her husband. Nathaniel always needed my help. Otherwise, we wouldn’t interact much, either. After Dad passed away, Remy, the baby of the family, preferred gallivanting from country to country, contacting me just enough to keep me satisfied.

“The only time I hear from you is on holidays or when you seek my aid.”

“Bullshit. I call you every fucking year on your birthday.”

“Considering it’s the fucking middle of September and Labor Day has passed, I know why we’re here. I want to hear you say it.”

Nathaniel had the Keegan blue eyes, inherited from our father and his father and on down the ancestral line. He hadn’t quite mastered the icy Keegan stare, though I’d give him ‘A’ for effort. “It’s been almost two years since I asked you for even a dime, and you’re holding onto that? In that time, I might’ve changed, Noah.”

I’dperfected my glacial glare. My glower removed his bravado. “It’s been only a month since you asked to borrow my Ferrari to impress a girl. I lent it to you for the evening because I was in a generous mood with your birthday so near. How did you repay me?”

Nathaniel’s car had been in the shop, so I’d lent him my prized Ferrari.

“You repaid me by crashing my car,” I said at his silence. “Your dumb ass didn’t have the sense not to smoke a blunt while on the road. Because you were too stupid to drive sober, I also had to bail you out of jail and offer a few payoffs to remove the accident from your record.”

Adding insult to injury, he’d dumped the woman at the center of the bullshit—albeit indirectly—a week later for herbest friend! He’d soared to new heights of irresponsibility.

“I might’ve crashed your car, but I paid for the repairs,” he snapped. “And I didn’t ask you to bail me out or quietly clean up my record. You did that on your own.”

“Would you have preferred to rot in jail after I discovered you were arrested for reckless endangerment?”