“Oh look, Copy,” Jake says with a devious grin. “It’s Paste.”
Because we’re identical twins, Jake has decided it’s hysterical to call us Copy and Paste. Most people roll their eyes at his joke, especially Finn and me, but Jake is content with just amusing himself. He smacks Finn on the shoulder.
Jake starts up the metal stairs, back to the living quarters area of the fire house, but he pauses when Finn calls out, “You off at seven tomorrow morning?”
Jake nods. “Yeah. You wanna grab breakfast?”
“Yep.” They both look over at me.
“Can’t. I have a…” I pause. “I have plans.”
They both raise their eyebrows in unison. Finn, of course, is the first to push. “Who has plans at seven in the morning? Is it with River? You can bring him.”
“I’m having brunch with someone who is not River, and I need to get some shut eye beforehand,” I say, and it kind of feels good to see the shock and excitement on their dopey faces. Well, Jake’s face is dopey. Finn’s is handsome, at least I have to tell myself that because it’s also my face. “And yeah, it’s a woman. And also yeah I will kick both your asses if you interrogate me on this.”
“You’re going on a date for the first time in almost five years,” Finn remarks and looks positively anguished. “I don’t know if it’s humanly possible not to interrogate you.”
“Try, jackass,” I threaten.
“Well, I think it’s great you’re going to some mystery brunch with some mystery woman, buddy,” Jake says with a big smile. He continues on up the stairs. “You and me tomorrow, Paste. Seven-fifteen.”
Finn watches him go. It’s not unusual for Finn to stop by on night shifts. The guy goes out any night he’s not working at the restaurant, and he also isn’t big on sleeping. He’s shown up here at four in the morning sometimes just to shoot the shit because he can’t sleep. But I know tonight he’s not here out of boredom or just to hand out in-person breakfast invites.
“So tomorrow afternoon…”
“You don’t need me there,” I reply. “I give you my proxy or voting rights or whatever the hell it is. You can vote for me.”
“Nope. Not going to do it,” Finn shakes his head. “I want you there.”
“And I want tonotbe there,” I say firmly and sigh. “Fine I’ll give my vote to Terra.”
“Already talked to her and she refuses to take it too,” Finn replies, and I feel my blood pressure spike.
“You two need to stop being dicks,” I shoot back. “Look, we both know Declan doesn’t care what I have to say about the family business.”
Finn frowns. “It’s called a family business because it includes theentirefamily. It’s not bossy big brother’s business.”
“Yeah but honestly, Finn, he’s the only one who has devoted his entire life to it,” I remind him and his frown deepens.
“Fuck that,” he retorts, his blue eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I’ve devoted my life too. You think I love being behind that counter every day up to my armpits in lobster meat and smiling pretty for all the whack-a-doodles in this town?”
“Yes.”
He pauses and bites back a sheepish grin. “Okay I do, but I mean, I have other things I want to do too and have sacrificed to keep the business going. Declan doesn’t get to claim ownership here. Besides, Mom and Dad are still in charge, and they want you there.”
Ugh. He pulled out the one thing that will get me to the damn family business meeting Declan called for tomorrow afternoon. The parental units. I cross my arms and glare at him. He shrugs his shoulders but gives me a sympathetic smile. “They told me specifically to make sure you show up this time. You’ve blown off the last two.”
“Fine,” I growl. “Why the hell are we doing this again anyway? Is this about the Seafood Festival? Does Declan still have his tighty-whities in a wedgie over the fact we took second place in the chowder competition last year?”
Finn rubs the back of his neck, a clear sign he’s bothered by something. He’s been doing that since we were little. I swear he did it when we were in diapers. “We’re still having a bit of trouble getting ahead.”
My heart plummets and my stomach constricts as guilt runs cold through my veins. “Oh.”
“Look, it’s no big deal. It’s not like we’re near bankruptcy or anything like that,” Finn says quickly. “We are getting by fine, we just aren’t earning back the savings as quickly as we’d hoped.”
“Because of me,” I mumble, because five years ago my family gave up almost everything when I made a horrible, drunken mistake and they had to ship me off to rehab.
“Logan, the business is fine and the family is better than fine because you’re here with us,” Finn reaches out and grasps my shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “Don’t make me drag you to the bathroom and stick your head in the toilet like when we were kids.”
