Sure enough, my brother’s contact flashes across the vaguely cracked screen.
My thumb hovers over the answer button, and for a moment, I consider picking up just to get the inevitable over with.
He’ll want the usual—a meeting, a talk about the family business, all while using whatever words he thinks will hook me in. Of course, I already know where that road leads.
Yuri has always been more interested in Dad’s dealings than me, and the moment he passed, he wasted no time jumping in to take the reins. Since then, he’s been trying to pull me into the fold, and that’s the last thing I want.
I wasn’t blind to Dad’s business growing up, but I chose to stay as far away from it as possible. That fact hasn’t changed for me.
Ignoring the subtle feeling of guilt that bubbles in my chest, I hit decline and shove the phone back in my pocket.
Stripping off the other glove, I stand and roll my shoulders out to give my back a break. The shop smells like paint and oil, and for most, it wouldn’t be too pleasant, but for me, it almost feels like home.
Behind me, the office door creaks open, and Roland’s voice drifts in.
“Ignoring calls again?”
Glancing at him, I watch as he grabs a relatively clean rag and drapes it over his shoulder. His tank top is stained with grease, and his shoulder-length hair looks wild while he runs a hand through it, making it look even darker than usual. He adjusts the coveralls rolled down to his waist.
“You know me too well,” I murmur dryly.
“Was it Yuri?”
I sigh. “Who else would it be?”
Roland stifles a chuckle and approaches, squinting at the fresh paint job as if to evaluate my work. We both know he never has anything negative to say about it.
“He’s probably pissed.”
“Probably,” I agree, grabbing my water bottle and taking a swig. “But I’m not letting him drag me into his mess. His men, his dealings, and whatever he has in mind for me, he can keep it all. It’s not my life, and it never was.”
“Good. Keep it that way for your sake,” he returns before standing to his full height and resting his light blue eyes on me. The slight furrow of his brows is serious. “You’ve made your own life, and there’s no sense throwing it away on his whims. But I have the feeling he won’t let you stay out of it completely forever.”
“He can certainly try.”
Roland gives me an amused grunt and absently nods while he gestures to the panel. “Clean work, by the way. It might even be too good for this asshole’s car.”
“The customer gave you trouble about the engine modifications, right?”
He scoffs. “He sure did. Tried to tell me how to do my job, too.”
“Some people have little faith,” I muse, well aware of the issues he faces with some of our clientele.
“Damn right they do.” He gestures with his arms out in an almost arrogant way with a grin. “But when the master is at work, the magic happens.”
That earns him a chuckle from me. “I think your head is getting a bit big.”
It’s true that Roland is a professional in his own right when it comes to the mechanical side of things, which is why I partnered with him in the first place. He had the know-how I needed to get my detailing services started, and fortunately, our skills have come together nicely in the last few years.
He can be rough around the edges, but he’s a good guy. Since he’s familiar with some guys who used to work for my dad, he isn’t a stranger to that world either, which at least gives me someone to vent to about it all.
“As per usual,” he says with a grin, tossing the rag at me. “You heading out soon?”
I nod. “Yeah, there’s a meet tonight.”
“I’m not at all surprised. You taking the bike?”
“As always.”
