Page 28 of Beg Me

“Yeah. It’s … I can’t remember the date, but it's in about a month. I have it on my calendar at work.”

“I’ll talk to you before then. But, if not, I’ll be praying for it to go well. And don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

I tilt my head to the side and stare at her. She’s one of the most capable women I know … and one of the most hardheaded.

“Text me when you get back to the city,” I say.

“Will do. And today was fun, Markie. We need to do this again … after my quads recover. I forgot how much you make me work for it out here.”

“Anytime you’re up for it, I’m game.”

We exchange a wave, then get into our cars and pull out of the parking lot. Tally goes left, and I go right, but I don’t get to the end of the block before my phone rings, and my brother’s name flashes across the screen.

I contemplate sending Miles to voicemail. If there were a snowball in hell’s chance that he was calling to chat, I’d be more inclined to answer it. But it’s Miles. That’s not what’s happening.

Before I can answer, the call stops. But before I breathe a sigh of relief, he calls again.

“Dammit,” I say, blowing out a breath. I answer the call with the same excitement that I’d use to teach a classroom of first graders during flu season. “Hey, Miles.”

“I’ve called you three times this evening.”

He tosses it out as an accusation. I wait for a follow-up, thinking maybe he’d ask if I was busy or okay.

It’s like I forgot who I was talking to for a second.

“Your point?” I ask my brother.

“You didn’t answer.”

“And they say that I’m the smart one of the family,” I say, sarcastically. “What can I do for you?”

He pauses. “Why do you say it like that?”

I stop at the end of the block to let another car through the intersection. “Because you only call when you need something, Miles. So, let’s forgo the pleasantries and just tell me what you want. I’m hot and tired, and I don’t have the energy to pretend you want to hear about my day.”

“Wow. Okay,” he groans but doesn’t bother arguing with me. “I’m boarding a plane as we speak, so I need to make this fast. Do you still have the binder that Mrs. Newsby gave you when she moved out of my rental?”

“Yeah. It’s in my trunk. Why?”

“Jory just called, and the water heater has been acting up, but he can’t get into the mechanical room because it’s locked. What are the odds that the key is still in that binder?”

I roll my eyes, ignoring the flutter low in my belly. “The odds are excellent if the key was in there in the first place. Mrs. Newsby was almost anal in her organization, and I only took out the things you asked me to and left them at the house for Jory. I left everything else alone in case you wanted it back.”

“Do you think you could run the key to him?” He mutters something away from the phone. “Or I can have him come by your house and pick it up, if that works better? I just need to get him that key so he can check out the water heater, and I can get a repair guy to go over there if I need to.”

I pull into Miller’s Market and park.

Do I mind seeing Jory tonight? No. Do I want him coming to my house? Also, no. Besides, I’m just a couple of blocks away from his house.

But none of that takes away my frustration at Miles.

“Yeah, I can swing it by,” I say, sighing. “But maybe try calling me once in a while without asking me for something.”

“Oh, come on. I do.”

I snort. “No, you don’t. I understand that it’s just who you are, but that doesn’t mean you can’t change.”