I toss my head back and laugh. “Looks like you’ve done a good job. They’re with your mother now.”
He lifts his whiskey glass toward her. “Sylvia always knows what to say. I’ll let her have at it.”
“Brother!” A tall man with a very clear resemblance to Pane—wide shoulders and a thick neck, but lighter hair—strides up in a dark suit and crystal-blue tie.
Pane glances up and his face breaks into such a wide smile that the pulse in my neck begins fluttering. I slip my elbow off his shoulder and sink back to my heels as the brothers embrace.
When they part, Stone holds Pane at arm’s length. “Congratulations! It’s well deserved, though I almost had you beat. I would’ve gotten away with it, if it hadn’t been for those meddling piggycorns,” he jokes, referencing a line from everyScooby-Dooepisode. Ever. “I told you piggycorns were a big deal.”
“Yes, brother. You practically handed me victory. I almost owe you my win,” Pane says with amusement lighting his eyes and laughter filling his voice. When the laughs fade, his gaze flashes in my direction. “Stone, this is Rowe Wadley.”
Stone takes my hand and smiles at me warmly. “Ah, I finally get to meet you—the piggycorn whisperer.”
I laugh as we shake. “The piggycorn whisperer? That’s a new one.”
“Didn’t you know?” He winks. “That’s what Pane’s been calling you. Says he couldn’t have done any of this without you, and I can’t help but agree, because it’s well known that animals hate him. Or thathehates animals.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Pane chides. “I’ve never said that—”
I tug him by the lapels and pull him in. “That you, what?Don’thate animals? What a fibber! Youhatedall the piggies when you first arrived.”
Stone folds his arms, giving his brother a scrutinizing look. “Is that true? You actually told her you hated them?”
Pane takes my hands, which are still curled in his suit jacket. “Do I hate them now? That’s the real question.”
“Now he feeds them,” I inform Stone smugly. “With your hot dogs.”
“That’s cannibalism,” Stone decries.
“They’re all-beef,” Pane and I chant in unison.
Stone laughs. “So, not cannibalism. Great to know. Come on.” He claps his hands and rubs them together. “Let’s celebrate your win.”
I start to walk off with them, but Sylvia Maddox catches my eye. She lifts her brows like she wants to speak with me. “You go ahead,” I tell Pane. “I’ll catch up.”
He frowns. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I watch them walk over to the bar, admiring how happy Stone is for Pane. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s not jealous. From everything Pane’s told me about his brother, they are so committed to one another that a little bit of jealousy couldn’t sour their love.
It’s really admirable.
Warmth bleeds through my chest as my gaze flicks back over to Sylvia. She’s untangled herself from the reporters and is making her way over. The woman looks like a sore thumb in the middle of the excruciatingly tacky Sparkle Bar, a place that resembles a field of rainbows vomiting more fields of rainbows—with stuffed buck heads to top it off.
As Pane steps up to the bar, reporters surround him, shoving a camera and microphone in his face. He smiles pleasantly, talking with an ease I couldn’t muster no matter how hard I tried.
“Congratulations,” Sylvia says as she walks up. “You should be very proud.”
“I am,” I tell her, referring more to my pride in her son than anything I hold close to myself. “I’m very proud of him.”
She twists in Pane’s direction. “He’s going to be very busy now that he’s won the company. I’ll need him back in New York immediately. From there, he’ll fly to the West Coast and then make his way to Japan. After that, it’s Europe. He’ll be gone for months, introducing himself and making sure the company gets off on the right foot under his direction.”
My stomach convulses. Gone for months? Pane never said anything about that.
Sylvia inspects her manicure and says coolly, “I know you expected him to help get your little piggycorn business up and running, but I’m afraid my son will be much too busy.”
Too busy?
