Patrick’s hazel eyes narrowed at Sam, and attention shifted to us. “It seems Jugger enjoyed the company of a woman this weekend, and I was congratulating him on ending the dry streak.”
Of all the nicknames my siblings tried attaching to me, Jugger—as in Juggernaut, fromThe X-Men—was my least favorite.
“That’s great,” Patrick muttered. “At some point this morning I’d like this meeting to start because we have shit to discuss. So whenever this little tea party is over, let me know. I’ll wait for you to finish.”
Sam leaned back in his chair and fidgeted with his cufflinks. “You’re one moody son of a bitch, Patrick. Honestly. Now that Matt’s in the game, it’s about time you start thinking about the opposite sex.”
“Are you charging for that advice?” Patrick snapped.
“Perhaps I should be,” Sam muttered. “I simply believe it is worth noting Matt’s making time with a girl—” Sam swung back to look at me. “I shouldn’t make assumptions about your sex life. We’re talking about a female, yes?”
Throwing my phone at Sam would be bad, and I kept telling myself as much. There was no separating family from the business, and these were the moments when I craved the anonymity of a typical workplace. One where no one would stop to verify I was sleeping with women.
Make thatonewoman.
“Yes,” I said at length.
My stomach sank, remembering that Lauren was cominghere. She wouldn’t need to invent reasons to flee once she got a look at this crew.
For the most part, my brothers and sisters and I counted each other as friends, and we rarely looked beyond this circle. We were masters at covering up the broken, angry parts of our business and upbringing, and no one was the wiser. It was exhausting, and we diverted most of our energies into old buildings rather than friends or relationships. It was better that way, safer. It protected us from obligatory questions about family and childhood—too complicated, too cluttered, too depressing.
I spared Lauren the goriest details when we talked about the business and my family’s inextricable ties to it on Friday night: the sisters who hadn’t spoken in five years, the father who systematically expelled Shannon, Sam, and Erin from the family house and spent the majority of his miserable existence berating my siblings and desecrating the memory of my mother.
Regardless of the fast-approaching end—maybe in spite of it—I wanted to see her again, and I wanted to make good on that promise to take care of her building. Outside of the best sex I’d ever had, it seemed like the one tangible thing bringing us back together.
“Shut the hell up, Samuel Aidan. We have actual work to do here,” Shannon said. “You don’t have to be shameless all day, every day.”
Chastened, Sam pressed his fist to his mouth and studied his laptop screen. Patrick talked through updates on a handful of projects, and I stole a glance at my phone. Texting was forbidden during our Monday morning status meetings.
07:34 Lauren:as long as that’s still ok with you
07:36 Lauren:I might be able to do later but not earlier
07:40 Matthew:3 will be fine
07:41 Matthew:i want dinner with you tonight.
“What’s the story on the Bunker Hill properties?” Patrick asked, his eyes rounding the table before stopping on me.
“I pulled everything the city has. Each in the ballpark of three thousand square feet. Three to four levels. All multi-family. City had only a few work permits from the past fifty years. Mostly new water heaters, some main drain work. Nothing structural. Without walking the properties, I’m fairly certain we’re talking original design and infrastructure, and full retrofitting.”
Annoyance passed over Patrick’s face. “Are you waiting for an invitation to get over there? Do you need someone holding your hand while you draft restoration plans or throw together a budget?”
And that’s why we called him Optimus Prime. Serious about everything, perfectionist to no end, impatient as hell, and the most reluctant warrior I’d ever seen.
“Patrick, we acquired these properties on Thursday. They were relatively cheap, in decent shape, and won’t take much to restore. They won’t sit on the books for long. Unless I hear a compelling argument otherwise, I don’t see why these are priorities. The Back Bay projects are far more urgent.”
Patrick arched his eyebrows and stared at me for a long, hard second. “Fine. I’ll let Angus know to check in with you directly when he wants updates. What else do you have?”
A sparkly blonde who will run screaming the second she meets this tribe.
“Shan, I have a client who needs representation on the acquisition of Trench Mills. Also looking for rehab. Conversion to a school. Can you meet after three today for that?”
Shannon scanned her calendar, nodding. “Three. Yeah, tight but I’ll be here.”
“We flip mills into schools now?” Riley asked.
“Apparently Matt does,” Patrick said.
