“No offense, but you always seem to pick ones that are big jerks.”
“Whatever.”
“Well, okay. Just a thought!” Landon cleared his throat. “I do have some good news! Maybe it’ll cheer you up?”
“Fuckin’ doubt it. What?”
“DJ Quigs agreed to do your party this weekend! Remember how I told you he owes me a huge favor ’cause I found his missing dog?”
“No, but seriously? He’ll do it?”
“Yeah! Totally! This Saturday, your place, DJ Quigs is all yours. I already started inviting people. It’s gonna be awesome!”
“Yeah, I guess you could come.”
“Cool! Thanks, man!”
Noah’s uncle was away on business, and Noah was planning to take full advantage of his absence to have a giant house party. Maybe it would help him forget about Brad.
“And uh, I hate to bother you, but I was kinda wondering if maybe you could pay me back the money I let you borrow last night? You said it was an emergency—”
“I’m sure it was.”
“You bought Brad drinks with it. Look, okay, it’s not a big deal, but I need it back.”
“It’s the end of the month. I’m broke until my uncle pays me on the first. You know that, Landon. Hello.”
“Right. Heh. Okay. I’ll, uh, I’m sure I’ve got some ramen or something…”
“I’ve gotta go.” Noah didn’t want to hear about Landon’s problems when he had his own to worry about.
“Oh, okay. Maybe we could talk later? I could come by and see you? I’m actually not doing so great—”
“Whatever, man. Later.”
“Okay! Yeah, I gotta go too. I’ll—”
Noah hung up and threw his phone into the backseat.
Ugh.
What a loser.
Landon had annoyed him more than usual, and Noah hated being in such a bad mood. His head hurt, and he was exhausted. It was the stupid car, stupid ass Brad… and going home to an empty house.
Well, empty except for the gardeners, the butler, the kitchen staff, and the maids.
Noah’s wealthy parents had died in a car accident when he was young, and they’d set up a generous trust fund for Noah to have when he turned twenty-five. His uncle, Patrick Allan, served as the fiduciary for the account and looked over the family’s remaining finances.
At twenty-two now, Noah wasn’t able to access the money and instead lived on a very limited monthly stipend supplied by his uncle. He was supposed to be sorting his life out and looking for a job since he’d refused to go to college, but he instead spent his free time and all his money getting fucked up and doing everything he could to forget how miserable he was.
His family’s house was a Spanish-style mansion with arched walkways, handcrafted iron doors, and lush gardens. It was quiet and secluded, just a short drive north of Moultrie and about a two-hour haul from Strassen Springs. It had seven bedrooms, a formal dining room, and a ballroom with a grand piano. Noah’s father had played, but he had no idea if the damn thing still worked.
No one had touched it since his death.
Noah parked the car up front and left the keys in the ignition for someone else to deal with. He was hungover and grouchy, and all he wanted was a hot shower and his own bed.
There were some unfamiliar cars parked over by the garage, and a rusted 1950’s Ford pickup truck caught his eye. It wasn’t unusual to have visitors at the mansion, repairmen or whoever, and Uncle Patrick sometimes had guests over.
