Chapter 4
COOPER
Maverick gave me a dap. “What? You still here?”
“You still a dumb ass?” I tossed back, annoyed at the constant jokes from my family about my extended time in Rosewood Heights. It had been nearly a month since the funeral, and I was still here. I’d only ventured back to Detroit to get more clothes and my truck, before hightailing it back down to South Carolina.
“Man, shut yo’ ass up.”
I shrugged. “Just sayin’.”
He waved me off. “Get the hell out of here.”
Laughing, I squeezed his shoulder. “I live to piss you off.”
Back in the day, Maverick was an easy target. He’d played his role as the skinny, nerdy little brother to a tee. Making fun of him seemed like a requirement. Being the second oldest—Hunter was four minutes younger—had its perks. Although I would beat a nigga down for my brothers, I didn’t have to protect them from each other like Dom did. Poor Mav didn’t stand a chance.
“Whatever, asshole.” Mav poured a glass of lemonade. “Mom told me you decided to buy a condo.”
Shaking my head, I pulled out a glass. “Rented,” I corrected. “Irenteda condo.”
Instead of lemonade, I went with the cognac. Especially since I’d come to the house specifically to talk to my father. For the first time since the funeral, Dad had actually texted me and asked for a meeting. My response had morphed from “hell no” to “maybe next week” to “what time”. I just added my change of heart about having a conversation with my father to the list of things I’d said I wouldn’t do since Granddad died.
“Either way, it’s surprising,” Mav said. “What’s the end game? Are you actually considering taking your place beside us at the company?”
Weeks ago, the answer to that question would have been a no, unequivocally. But now?I’m a fuckin’ punk. I gulped the alcohol down. “Don’t read too much into this.” I set the glass on the counter and poured another healthy serving. “I’m working on a special project for Granddad.”
“Oh yeah… I heard you were remodeling the Fox house.”
I stared at him. “Who told you?”
“It’s Rosewood Heights. Everybody pretty much knows what everybody else is doing.”
I leaned against the counter. “Did you know Ms. Fox?”
Mav frowned. “Not really. I’ve seen her around.”
“I don’t remember her,” I mused. I’d studied the portrait of her at the house, but I didn’t recall ever running into her. Which was weird, since I’d lived in this damn town until I was eighteen.
“That’s not surprising. You’ve been gone for a long time.”
“But I remember a lot of things about this place. Just not her.”
“I don’t know, bruh.” Maverick finished his lemonade. “When do you start on the project?”
Between the inspections, the design, and the permit process, I had to push the start date back. “Hopefully, tomorrow.”
“How long do you think it will take?”
I hunched a shoulder. The 5,500-square-foot house was built in 1925, so I’d anticipated unexpected delays. “My goal is to be finished by Memorial Day.”
“What happens when you’re done?” Hunter walked into the kitchen and greeted me and Mav with a bro hug. “I can’t believe you’re still here.”
“I can’t believe no one in this family knows how to mind their own damn business,” I snapped. “Stop worrying about why I’m here and concentrate on your own shit. Damn.”
Hunter grinned. “Whoa, can’t a brotha ask a question?”
“Apparently not,” Mav muttered.
