Martina rolled her eyes. “Just because I choose to stay in doesn’t mean I’m boring.”
I had to think about it though. When was the last time Martina had gone on a date? I liked to believe that she went on dates but never told us. I huffed under my breath. Yeah, probably not. Where Alma needed to stay in more, Martina never got out enough.
“She’s going out with me next weekend,” I said, piping up, defending her.
Martina lifted her bowl of cut-up peppers, stood, and walked over to my mother, handing her the bowl. “Where are we going?”
“Out. For fun.”
“Why can’t I go?” Alma pouted, looking left out.
“Because you”—I pointed my knife, taking a pepper from her—“have way too much fun as it is.”
“Go,” my mother said as she labored over the stove. “You need to get out, or you’ll be living with me forever. I might be single, but I need grandchildren. From each of you.” She pointed her wooden spoon at us, one at a time for emphasis.
I groaned. Grandchildren were a long way off, especially since I couldn’t keep a man or find a man even remotely normal.
“Where are we going?” Martina opened the faucet and sudsed up her fingers.
I grinned, trying to make it sound more fun that I knew it would be. “Speed-dating.”
She turned to fully face me, her wet hands dripping on the floor, the sink still running behind her. “What?”
I wasn’t about to tell her that it was a spur-of-the-moment decision even though I was known for my spontaneity.
My mother turned off the sink behind her, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around Martina’s fingers. “You’re going with your sister.” And that was that. Mama always won.
I smirked at her. And who knew? Maybe I’d even find a remotely normal guy while speed-dating.
Chapter 2
Mason
I tapped my knuckles against the steering wheel and stared at our house—the home I’d grown up in, the palatial estate with its white fluted columns and manicured hedges lining the front.
My parents were long gone, killed in an accident that had taken them both. When I thought of them, sadness still tightened around my throat as though the accident had happened yesterday.
Now, my oldest brother, Charles, and his family occupied our childhood home.
I’d been sitting here a while, just staring, remembering, and feeling remorse about everything that had happened tonight with Janice. Who knew how long I’d been sitting in the car, thirty minutes?
If I entered the house, Charles would wake up. It was one in the morning, and he’d hear the alarm, indicating a door had opened, and then my two nieces would wake up as well.
I didn’t want to wake him, yet I didn’t want to go to my condo in the city. Not tonight.
My life had always been planned out, predictable. And my five-year plan had been going according to schedule until I decided Janice wasn’t for me.
Isn’t this my fault? Isn’t this chaos my doing?
My head flipped at the sound behind me. A car’s lights flickered down the long driveway. Since we had a security gate, I knew it could only be Brad.
There were three of us. All boys. Charles, Brad, and me—the baby.
I shook my head and chuckled. Though we were polar opposites in almost every definition of the term, we were the same in that our childhood home was our safe place.
Somehow, we always ended up here. Not only because we loved seeing our two nieces, but also because, when we couldn’t sleep, we’d come back here from our places in Chicago, to Barrington, to think things through, clear our heads.
Isn’t that why I’m here? To clear my head about Janice?
Brad parked parallel to my car on our circular driveway, and we stepped out at the same time.
Damn. And I thought I looked bad.
Brad’s hair stood up on end. He was in a T-shirt, sweats, and slippers.
Slippers? Did he forget his shoes somewhere?
Heavy bags lined his eyes. He tipped his head in greeting, and I followed him inside the house in silence. He stalked straight to the fridge, grabbed two beers, twisted off the tops, and plopped down at the kitchen table. He slid the extra bottle of Guinness down the table my way and sighed heavily.
His heavy sigh grated on my nerves, and I tried not to roll my eyes. He had the perfect girlfriend, the perfect life. A life I’d thought I had until I realized I was with the wrong girl altogether. He was living my five-year plan.
The sound of footsteps padded down the stairs, and a few seconds later, Sarah, my thirteen-year-old niece, appeared.
“What are you doing up?” Brad said.
Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and she was sporting a Def Deception band shirt. “I heard the door.”
Every time a door opened, the alarm system would indicate which door had been opened.
“You really should be sleeping.”
Studies showed that teenagers needed ten hours of sleep a night.
Being a typical teenager and ignoring my statement, she pulled out a chair and sat in her regular spot beside me. “Why are you both here tonight?” Her voice was tinged with amusement. She bumped her shoulder against mine, and a playfulness danced in her eyes. “Janice,” she confirmed all knowingly, as though she were thirty, not thirteen.
I groaned.
She turned to Brad. “Did you know she was at the coffee shop this morning?”
Once a month, Sarah and I worked out together. We’d run the track at the gym or on the trail if it was warmer outside. After, we’d hit up Coffee Beaners and catch up. I’d grab my coffee, and she’d always grab a wheat bagel and their freshly squeezed orange juice.
Sarah smirked. “She’s stalking him.”
I huffed. “No. That was completely random. She likes going there too.”
But she would have also known that I was taking Sarah there that morning since that was routine for me.
Brad threw me a pointed look. “I told you to file a restraining order against her.”
Who knew if he was serious, but I ignored his comment. I wasn’t in the mood to argue today, overly exhausted from earlier with Janice.
Sarah smiled victoriously. “But I saved the day because I lied, told Uncle Mason I had cramps so we had to go home.”
“Sarah?” Charles appeared from the entryway to the kitchen, eyes heavy with sleep.
Facing one stern, fatherly glare, Sarah smiled, all teeth. “Dad … I’m going.” She hopped onto her feet before her dad got another word in and kissed him on the way out. “Good night, everyone.”
“Both of you tonight?” Charles eyed the beers. “Bad night?”
“You can say that,” I said gruffly.
When Brad remained silent, Charles turned his attention his way. “And you? Where’s Sonia?”
Sonia had been Brad’s secretary—until he’d started dating her. Now, she was my secretary.
Brad rubbed at his brow before tipping back his Guinness. “Home.”
Charles took a seat at the table, ready to offer his big-brother advice.
After our parents had died, Charles had taken on the head-of-the-household role, and that was why he fit the CEO role of Brisken Printing perfectly, a company that our parents had started.