Lexi ducked her head but not before I saw a tear slide down her cheek. All of my old brotherly instincts rose up inside me. Always protect Lexi. I heard the voice inside my head as surely as I had when my mother said it while putting Lexi in my arms the day she came home from the hospital. Holding her swaddled in a pink blanket with her wrinkly red skin, scrawny fingers, head of downy hair, and milky blue eyes, my five-year-old self had experienced love at first sight for the very first time.
“But I need you, Nicky,” she said.
Shit. I didn’t have the reserves it would require to resist a plea from my sister. Why couldn’t she just give me a dollar amount so we could be done with this?
“Why?” I asked. “You have a life of your own. Why do you want me in it now?”
Lexi swiped at her cheeks as if she was furious with herself for the display of emotion. She sniffed and glanced at the closed curtains and then back. “All right, I’ll be honest. I’m only in Phoenix temporarily for a job and I’m in a jam. I need your help and your connections, Nicky. I need your power.”
I stared at her for a beat and then I threw back my head and laughed. I had no power. It had all evaporated the day my body betrayed me. “I really can’t help you.”
“Yes, you can,” she said. “Listen, I’m currently building a net-zero housing development that could revolutionize the industry, but I’m making enemies, Nicky. There are a lot of developers who want to see me fail, well, a few of them want to see me dead, but that’s not why I need you.”
I felt Jackson stiffen beside me. I could tell his protective instincts were kicking in just like mine. I’d rip anyone apart who harmed my sister, whether we were in each other’s lives or not, even if I had to crawl to get to them.
“Who wants you dead?” I demanded.
“Relax, that was hyperbole,” she said.
She didn’t meet my gaze, however, so I suspected a death threat had been made.
“Bullshit. Tell me all of it, Lexi,” I said.
“It’s simple. I received a green building grant from the Environmental Protection Agency and the State Energy Program, to pair zero-emission designs with affordable homeownership on a vacant lot,” she said. “Most low-income homes spend about ten percent of their income on utilities. With the alternate sources of energy we’re putting in, the residents should have no utility bills. The goal is to create a cost-effective, completely self-sustaining housing development of twenty small homes on an abandoned lot in Central Phoenix. It’s about the greenest build you could ever imagine.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“You mean aside from the utility companies who most definitely do not want housing developments to become self-sustaining? Or the construction companies who don’t want me to upset their established practices by pushing through innovations that could slow them up if adopted into the building code? Or the investors who are suddenly panicking at the budget and want me to switch to cheaper non–environmentally friendly materials? And let’s not forget the local politicians on the take from all of the above. I’m getting slammed with supposed building code violations that don’t even make sense. And then there’s a whole anti-gentrification group of protesters, who are ridiculous because I am literally building on an abandoned lot.”
I grimaced. I knew all of these players. I knew exactly who and what she was talking about. These were not choirboys. There was a lot of money at stake in building, and they were not going to play nice with someone who was planning to change the game and cost them money, time, and potential projects.
“To be clear, what is it you think I can do for you?” I asked.
“I need public opinion on my side. I need the powerful dealmakers in Phoenix to get on board,” she said. “And I need the politicians to want this for the city.”
“That’s a tall order,” Jackson said.
She glanced at him. And I noticed that the sympathy in his gaze made the tension in her shoulders ease. Jackson was good like that.
“What’s your plan to make this happen?” I asked. “And how do I factor?”
“I’m proposing that we have a gala,” she said. She dropped back into her chair and leaned forward, obviously hoping to sell me on her idea. “Black tie, champagne, hors d’oeuvres, you know, all the good stuff, held at the Phoenix Country Club with photo ops galore. We invite anyone who is anyone in the city. We announce your comeback from early retirement to support your sister and we get them on board with Green Springs.”
“Green Springs? That’s what you’re calling it?” I asked. “No wonder it’s tanking. It sounds like the name of a cemetery.”
She stuck her chin out and glared at me, crossing her arms over her chest just like she used to when she was six and wanted her way whether it was cake for breakfast or one more story. It felt like a punch in the chest to see it again.
I wanted to howl for all the years we’d missed, but I was a broken man and there was simply no way I could let Lexi back in my life again. Not like this.
“I appreciate that you think I can help you with this,” I said. “But I can’t.”
“Because you retired from the building game?” she asked. She held her arms out wide. “You’re telling me that you’re barely thirty-five and you bought this colossal waste of space and cashed out and that’s it?”
“Hey!” I cried. “I happen to like my home.”
“It’s not home, it’s a supersized mausoleum,” she said. She was more on point than she knew. “I suppose it could be worse. It’s mostly concrete, steel, glass, and the wood in here looks to be repurposed. At least you didn’t rape the rain forest”—she paused while Jackson choked on his own spit—“for the oh-so-precious teak flooring most McMansion owners opt for.”
“Um . . . thanks?” I said.
She shook her head. “No. It’s still an egregious waste of resources and a ginormous drain on the power grid, all of which is heating up Mother Earth. You are one person. How can you possibly need this much space?”
“I’m seeing why the politicians and investors are not leaping on board with your development,” I said. My tone was as dry as plain toast.
“Which is why I need you,” she said. “I don’t need your money. I just need you. Come on, Nicky, for old times’ sake, help me get people excited about my development. This is my first project as architect on record. I need this.”
I kept my face neutral. It was a struggle because I really loved that she was so passionate about her project and that she was taking her architectural degree in such a forward-thinking direction. I wanted to do a fist pump. Instead, I shook my head. The mere thought of getting back out there with a body that could fail me at any moment—no, I was not doing that.