This was an unexpected opportunity, to say the least. And I didn’t want to make the same mistake Brody did. Nite Bites was one thing, but I’d never been in a place to consider owning a real business. And if I was interpreting Mr. Mason’s backhanded compliment correctly, he was willing to invest in us if we had an idea he wanted to invest in.
“I’ve worked at Rafferty’s since I was old enough to get a job. Cleaning, busing tables, that kind of thing. And I’ve been bartending there for a few years. It’s a good job and decent money when I can work enough hours.”
Mr. Mason already knew this, and he looked less than thrilled to be hearing it again.
“But it’s kind of a dream of mine to have my own place someday,” I added.
“To be honest, I don’t love the idea of a bar. They’re a dime a dozen, and the overhead can get expensive. If you don’t have the customers to sustain it, it can go under pretty quickly.”
I nodded but otherwise didn’t respond.
He turned to Brody. “What do you think of running a bar?”
Brody hesitated for a moment, looking around at all of us before responding. “I think I’m good with people and would thrive in something fast-paced. I’d expect it to be a good fit for me.”
Mr. Mason sighed and stared us down for a second. “I still don’t love your chances of being successful, but I’ll tell you what,” he said, and I allowed a spark of hope to light a small fire inside me. “If you two come up with a business plan—a real business plan—I’ll take a look at it, and we can go from there. If it seems like it might have potential, I’d consider investing some money to get you guys started.”
There was a knock at the door, which allowed Brody to jump up without making it seem like the sudden movement was a direct result of his excitement, though he probably wouldn’t have cared either way.
“Yes, definitely,” Brody said. “We’ll get you that tomorrow.”
“Not tomorrow,” I told him. “A business plan is going to take some research.”
I turned toward Brody as he opened the door, and though I couldn’t see his face, I assumed his expression looked a lot like mine probably did. Why the hell was Veronica back?
“Sorry,” she said, already heading into the apartment.
I saw the moment she noticed Mr. Mason, not that she knew who he was.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I forgot my laptop bag. I’ll be out of your way in a minute.”
“It’s okay,” Mr. Mason told her. “I was just getting ready to leave. I’m Brody and Sophia’s father. I’m assuming you’re a friend of theirs.”
She stopped walking and turned to face him. “Actually,” she said with a hint of a smile, “I’m Brody’s wife.”
Chapter Two
S O P H I A
I’d never seen my dad reach the level of red he was exhibiting. He was spluttering like a faulty sprinkler as he looked back and forth between Brody and Veronica.
Finally, my dad pointed an accusatory finger at Brody. “Start talking.”
“Dad, I—”
“I can’t even believe this,” my dad interrupted as he began to pace. “To think I actually thought you’d finally grown the hell up. I should’ve known better. You’ll always pull stunts like…this.” He waved a hand toward Veronica. “And again you’ve dragged someone else into your mess.”
“I can explain,” Brody tried again.
But then our dad did something that made us all look at one another in fear. He began laughing.
“You know,” he said between chuckles that didn’t sound all that pleasant, “your mother and I talked about this day. A day when you’d meet a girl and tell us you were finally settling down.” He sobered. “But never in our wildest dreams did we expect you to take off to Europe, hide your return, nearly get your sister thrown out of school, and then, after all that, introduce us to a wife. Not a fiancée or a girlfriend you were serious about. A wife.”
“If you would just listen, I—”
“What’s your name, dear?” my dad asked Veronica, his tone softening when he addressed her.
Her eyes were wide as she put her hand in my dad’s outstretched one. “Veronica. But I was—”
“Veronica. Beautiful name.”
“Um, thanks.”
“And where did you and Brody meet? I’d like to assume in class, but Brody never went there.”
“Uh, no, I…I don’t go to school here. I was just in town for an internship opportunity.”
“Oh, how great. What field are you interning in?”
“International law.”
“That’s very impressive. Are you an undergrad?”
“Yes, but I graduate in May. I’ve been accepted to a law school nearby, so I figured I’d try to get my foot in the door at one of the local firms.”
Dad couldn’t hide his delighted surprise as he cast a quick glance at Brody. “How wonderful. Your parents must be so proud.” When he focused on Veronica, his smile was genuine. “Did you move here to be closer to Brody?”
“No, not exactly. I—”
“Of course not.” My dad turned to Brody once again. “So this is another mess your mother and I need to clean up, right? You need money for a divorce? Or an annulment? I guess that’s convenient, since I came here ready to finance a business. May as well finance your latest disaster instead.”
“Dad, if you’d just—”
“To think I’d been willing to bet on you this time,” my dad said, seemingly determined to let no one else get a word in, his voice low and dripping with disappointment. “I really thought…” He lifted his hands before letting them drop just like the end of his sentence. He sat down heavily on the couch and reached into his inside coat pocket, removing his checkbook and tossing it onto the table. “How much will it cost me this time, Brody?”
Brody stared our father down, his hands clenched in fists by his sides. “Nothing.”
Dad rubbed his hand across his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose before looking up at my brother. “Don’t give me that. Just tell me how we fix this, so I can leave and forget I was dumb enough to ever have any faith in you at all.”
I saw when my dad’s words hit their mark. Saw Brody flinch even though his posture didn’t flag.
My parents had never come down very hard on Brody, despite numerous instances where it would’ve been warranted. But the one time it wasn’t was the time my dad decided to heap every ounce of frustration and anger he’d ever felt onto my brother.
For the first time maybe ever, I felt bad for Brody.
“You about done?” my brother asked, his voice steely even as it was raspy with unshed emotion.
“I’d like to be, Brody. I’d really, really like to be.” My dad sounded defeated.
This entire thing was a dumpster fire, and I wished I could look away. Drew, who’d moved to stand beside me, grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze, which helped me find my voice.