Chapter 28 – Miles
TWENTY-EIGHT
MILES
The past two weeks have been some of the best of my life, even though tomorrow is my first day off in that whole time. Every night, I spend time with Claire, either just her and me hanging out in bed or on the deck together or with friends, sometimes at the Seabreeze, sometimes at Grant’s place. Last week, we spent the night like tourists, going to the boardwalk to do some rides and then playing in the arcade. I won Claire a giant stuffed animal of a cat that she put in the living room right next to the hermit crab tank she set up not long after her theft.
Now I'm standing in the kitchen a week after our afternoon at the Seabreeze, waiting for Claire to be ready for trivia night, when my phone rings in my hand.
I expect to see a call from Grant or maybe Deck, bitching that we're running late since I texted we'd leave almost twenty minutes ago, but Claire is taking longer than expected, as is her norm. I wonder if I should start changing times, telling her we'll leave at five when we have to be there at five thirty, just so we're on time.
I'm smiling to myself and my thoughts about a future with Claire, but I look at the screen, and my stomach drops.
It's Paul.
All happiness leaves me when I see it, knowing he only calls me when he needs something or if he wants to drop some fucking bomb that is going to ruin my day.
With a deep sigh and a look over my shoulder to see if Claire is in the room yet, I answer and lift the phone to my ear.
"Hey," I say as I instantly begin to pace the kitchen. "How's LA?"
"Did you talk to your lawyer?" my brother asks abruptly, no need for a hello.
I sigh, closing my eyes as I tip my head to the ceiling and try not to snap at him.
"Nice to talk to you too, baby brother. I'm good, Mom's great, how are you?"
"Stop being a dick, Miles."
I roll my eyes at the irony of Paul calling me a dick, much less calling him out for not even bothering with niceties.
"I'm the one being a dick? You just called me up about money," is what I really want to say, but I don’t.
As annoying as my brother is and as ready as I am for this whole fucking mess to be over with, he still owns a chunk of this house and has the power to completely fuck me over if he really wanted to.
I take in a deep breath and force myself to sound pleasant and brotherly.
When I remember that I was eating out his ex's pussy just a few hours ago, that task becomes shockingly more simple, a rush of calming pleasure washing over me.
"Yes, Paul. I talked to my lawyer. I, unfortunately, don't have your full payout on hand right now. We tried to offer to double the payments for the time being until I either have the full amount or you're paid out in full. My lawyer hadn't heard from yours, so for June we sent the single amount, but I'm happy to wire over more if it's what you want.”
"I fired my lawyer," he says simply.
"What?" I ask, blinking. I suppose that's why Paul's lawyer never got back to us.
"I fired him. Everything's going through me now."
My jaw tightens, knowing that can't be a great sign, overall.
"Why'd you fire him?" I ask, straightening.
"He's too expensive and was taking too long. You said you'll double the payment?"
I close my eyes and fight back the guilt eating at me. This is the most desperate I've ever heard him. Maybe it's just because I'm finally content in my life, but he sounds miserable.
"Paul, are you okay?" I ask, trying to be as gentle as I can.
"I'm fine. Double it?"
"I mean, yeah, we spoke about doubling it, but it would halve how many remaining payments you'd get."
"When can you get the money to me?" he says instantly.
Now my nerves start to rise because even if my brother is an ass, he's still my younger brother. It was instilled in me from the day he was born that keeping Paul safe was my number one job. Sometimes, I wonder if I took that too seriously, especially after Dad died, not letting him learn and grow on his own.
Maybe if Paul had to be more accountable for his mistakes, we wouldn't be in this position.
Or maybe we just would have gotten here quicker.
"Paul, seriously, are you okay?"
"I'm just in a tight spot right now. My record company is fucking with me, and that bitch Claire left, and she was supposed to cover rent, so?—"
"Cover rent?" I ask, fighting the urge to tell him not to talk about Claire like that. In a perfect world, Paul won't find out about my relationship with Claire until after I have the amount to pay him out. It's not that I want her to be some kind of secret, just that I don't need him finding out and throwing a temper tantrum.
"I mean help with rent. Whatever. Shit's expensive out in LA.”
Unease builds in my gut with a healthy dose of familial guilt I always feel regarding my younger brother.
"Look," I say with a sigh. "Why don't you come home? We can?—"
"Fuck off, Miles. Drop the caring brother act; I know it's all bullshit. Just get me the money."
My jaw goes tight, and I go to speak, to tell him I won't send a thing until he signs an agreement at the behest of my lawyer, but then I realize the line has gone silent.
I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, shooting off a quick text to my lawyer. He's probably going to insist Paul sign something, stating that he's okay with the number of payments halving, which I know Paul isn't going to want to sign, but he'll want to make sure I'm financially and lawfully covered.
"Everything okay?" Claire asks, walking over to me as she slips an earring in. She's in a little tank top with a flowy skirt that stops at her knees and a pair of sandals, and as always, she's fucking gorgeous.
"What?" I ask, taking a step closer, always distracted by her.
Why did I used to think that was a bad thing? Right now, getting distracted from the mess of Paul is exactly what I need.
"You okay? You look stressed."
I smile and shake my head. "No, just normal shit. You ready to go?"
She stops into my space, her hand lifting to cup my cheek, her thumb brushing over my mustache in the way I love before she smiles.
"Yeah, baby," she whispers, then moves to her tiptoes to press a kiss to my lips and step back. "Let's go."