What his family didn’t know was how lucrative bartending could be, especially at a busy, high-end restaurant. And though he didn’t plan to bartend for the rest of his life, it was more flexible and more fun than anything the family business could offer. His family wouldn’t understand—they were doers, not creators.
Ryan needed his trust fund allowance. Though it wasn’t enough to live on, it had financed his years of research and the equipment needed to turn his dream into a reality. He was a script away from seeing the fruits of his labor of love.
“Think it over.” His mother rose from the couch to head to the kitchen. “And you know where to find us.”
Once again, his mother failed him. Instead of backing him, of trying to support him, she took his father’s side. Every damn time. And if it wasn’t his father’s side, she took his brother’s.
“I don’t get it, Ry,” his brother said once their mother left. “Everyone enjoys working for DeMarco Properties. It’s a good company.”
“If I’d wanted to join the family business, I wouldn’t have majored in global studies. Real estate was never interesting to me, and I want more from life besides buying, selling, or renting property.”
Running DeMarco Property Management someday was Alex’s dream, not Ryan’s.
“Then do something with your degree. Show Dad you’re not going to waste your life.”
“That’s impossible. The only way he’s ever going to accept me as a grown-ass adult is if I work for him. And there will be a blizzard in Tucson before that ever happens.”
Ryan rose from his chair, and it rocked back and forth for a moment. The clicks and squeaks spoke volumes in the quiet between brothers.
“Would it really be so bad?” Alex asked, his voice even.
“Yeah, it would.”
Little by little, it would eat at him until nothing was left of his soul. Ryan stormed into the foyer where his motorcycle helmet stared at him from the entry table. He grabbed it and headed for the front door.
“Wait!” His brother’s voice echoed in the tiled entry.
Ryan hesitated, fingers on the door handle. He could storm out, ignoring Alex and possibly causing an irreparable rift. He’d never have to worry about pleasing his parents again or competing with his older brother. Those activities had never gotten him anywhere, anyway. But a small voice in his subconscious, which sounded suspiciously like his Nonna, reminded him family was important and shouldn’t lightly be tossed to the side. Ryan turned around.
“I’m not staying for dinner.”
Alex held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t think you would after that conversation.”
“Why did you drag me here?”
“I didn’t know they were going to ambush you before we ate. I would’ve told them it was a very bad idea. You get hangry.” A grin softened the words.
Ryan couldn’t help himself and grinned back.
“Listen, you don’t want to work for Dad, fine.” Alex leaned against the table where Ryan’s helmet had rested a moment earlier. “But I have a proposition for you.”
More alarm bells rang through his head. Alex’s propositions rarely turned out well for anyone other than Alex.
“Spit it out.”
“Mom keeps trying to set me up with the daughter of a friend. What if you call her instead?”
“Why not you? What’s wrong with her?”
“Do you even know how many of these dates Mom has tried to con me into? Listen, dude, you’d be doing me a favor and throwing them a bone at the same time. Date someone you know they’d approve, instead of the women I know you pick just to piss them off. If you do it, I’ll owe you, and they’ll see you’re trying.”
A favor from Alex was an excellent thing to have in his back pocket, and what was one date? Hell, maybe he’d even like her. Probably not. He’d been surrounded by the daughters of his mother’s friends for most of his life. He refused to date any of them since they didn’t want a casual hookup but a chance at the DeMarco fortune, or better yet, at his older brother. What choice did he have? Ryan nodded in defeat.
“Great! I’ll send the number.”
Ryan turned to the door and opened it.
“Hey, Happy New Year!” Alex’s words seemed sincere.
