“I appreciate that, but now what am I gonna do?”
“Are you sure you won’t work for him?” Alex switched from brotherly concern to chief operations officer. “The company keeps him busy. Even if you took over for Val, you still wouldn’t see him often. The pay is similar to your bartending gig and you get benefits. And if you hate it, quit once Dad releases your trust fund.”
Ryan had taken on the bartending job five years ago to help Iz’s family when they’d been shorthanded after opening their latest restaurant. Back then, he had no idea what he’d wanted to do with his degree in global studies. Now he did, but it would be ten times harder and take twice as long to build his career as a food podcaster without the money from his trust.
“Let me think about it.” Ryan shoved his free hand through his hair, tugging tight and letting the pain ground him.
“Okay, but don’t take too long. Val needs to leave in the next few weeks. House hunting, packing, all that shit.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, Alex. Talk to you soon.”
He had no way of contacting Elissa. If he walked into the Sandpiper without apologizing, her friend would likely have his balls. He’d gotten on the wrong side of a few other best friends of the many girls he’d dated and barely lived to regret it.
There was one thing he could do to redeem himself. Ryan flopped on the couch and texted Laurel.
R: I’m an asshole. You don’t want to date me.
At least he saved some poor woman from having to deal with his bullshit. In fact…
Ryan spent the next ten minutes going through his contacts and deleting at least a dozen of those other poor women he’d wronged. God, he was an asshole. He tossed the phone onto the coffee table, threw his arm over his eyes, and allowed himself to wallow in self-pity.
He had a decision to make. A part of him longed to tell his father to go to hell and take his money with him. Cut his ties with the DeMarco fortune and sink or swim on his own merits. The less stupid part of him knew he was incredibly privileged to have access to generational wealth, and he’d be a fool to throw it away. Could he give the next two years and change to the family business and still live with himself at age thirty?
Ryan had no fucking clue.
The person he could trust to talk this through was Iz, but they had totally different schedules. Ryan worked nights mostly, sometimes afternoons, while Iz generally kept business hours. And they had a boyfriend, which meant dates and sleepovers. He had to wait until they were in the same room at the same time and he had enough bandwidth to handle a conversation Ryan was pretty sure would hurt his feelings.
He went to bed, haunted by the hurt in Elissa’s eyes. If he could have it to do over, he’d keep his damned mouth shut.
It was after close in the small hours of Friday morning before the stars aligned.
“Shh, Teo’s asleep,” Iz said from the kitchen as Ryan shut and locked the door behind him. They pulled out two beers. “Want one?”
“God, yes. Why are you up?”
“You’ve been trying to talk to me for a couple days. Couldn’t sleep, so figured now was good.”
“What did I ever do to deserve you as a friend?”
Ryan slid onto a chair next to their little four-person table. Iz slid the can of Barrio Blonde across as they sat. Ryan popped the top and took a glug.
“Called my third-grade bully ‘poopy pants.’”
Ryan chuckled. He’d caught hell from his parents, but the fuck if he was going to let some snot-nosed bully push around his best friend. Fucker was lucky the teacher intervened before Ryan’s fist landed in his gut. Ryan would have called expulsion a fair trade.
“So, what’s up, Ry?”
“I fucked up.”
“Not the first time.”
“Yeah, but this was a doozy.”
He told Iz all about the failed date. Told them about the choice in front of him.
“I mean, you work for my family.” Iz polished off their beer.
“Yeah, but they like me. I’ve never been anything other than a disappointment to my parents. Every time I try to stand out, I get a pat on the head before they turn their attention back to Alex.”
