Page 5 of Should Have Been Me

“I love you guys. Talk soon.”

“Love you back,” Charlotte said enthusiastically.

“Love you, sis,” Dalton added.

I tapped the screen, ending the call, and dropped the phone back onto my nightstand before flipping off the light.

I might have been exhausted, but that call with my family had been good for my heart.

3

VAUGHN

Istood in front of the large picture windows in the living room. My hands were tucked in the pockets of my slacks, my jacket unbuttoned. It was basically the most casual I ever got, at least that used to be the case. I was sure that would change, just like everything else in my world had lately.

The spotless glass overlooked a pristine lake tucked into the valley and surrounded on all sides by the foothills and jagged mountains that made up Pembrooke.

The house was large for only one person, almost obscenely so. Every appliance, every finish from the light fixtures to the cabinet handles, were top of the line. The state-of-the-art ZLine with seven burners, a porcelain cooktop, and Italian hinges would be any professional chef’s dream. But the odds I’d ever touch the damn thing were slim to none.

The home was built to resemble a large cabin built of glass and wood and dripping with luxury. It would be most people’s dream home, yet for me, it was just another investment. One I’d live in, but an investment all the same. I could have rented or stayed in a motel, saving myself the seven figures this place was going to cost me, but the idea of living right on top of other people, no matter how temporary, set my teeth on edge. This worked best for me. It might not have been my forever home, but once I was finished here, I’d find a way to make money off it. That was what I did.

As I stared out at the view that would have undoubtedly moved most other people who didn’t see things in the concept of dollar signs such as I did, the realtor’s voice finally came back into focus.

“As you can see, the view from every room in the house is stunning. You won’t find panoramic views like this anywhere else around town.”

That was just one of the reasons the price tag on this house was so ridiculous. The community it had been built in was small, boasting its exclusivity with only seven of these McMansions that lorded over the small, quaint town below.

Most of the other houses were owned by people who chose Pembrooke as their vacation spot, not their forever home. They either came here in the winter to ski or in the fall to see the leaves turn before returning to whatever city they called home. I would be the only resident of this tiny neighborhood who lived here full-time. That was the real selling point for this place—the solitude.

I wasn’t exactly a fan of people, so living up on the mountain, twenty minutes outside of town, without a single neighbor to bother me, sounded like heaven.

A dislike of neighbors was why my last residence was in a penthouse apartment in Denver.

I let out an annoyed sigh as the realtor kept going on. It wasn’t her fault I was so short of patience, of course. But every single one of my days was packed from the moment I woke up until I went to bed. There were no such things as breaks or vacation days in my world; it was how I preferred things and also the reason I managed to become a millionaire before the age of forty. So having to listen to her give her standard pitch was burning precious time I didn’t have to waste. Also, I wasn’t exactly known for having much of a poker face when it came to my moods, which worked fine for me, since being an asshole generally kept people away.

“Of course, I have several other listings for you to consider. If this isn’t what you’re looking for, we can try somewhere closer to town. I’m confident we can find you?—”

I held my hand up to cut her off. “This is fine. I’ll take it.”

She sputtered for a few seconds. “You’ll take it? But—Mr. Cavanaugh, this is only the first house I’ve shown you. Wouldn’t you like to see other properties?”

Not particularly. Dragging this process out any longer actually sounded like my nightmare. And anything closer to town—to people—was out of the question. It was bad enough I’d chosen to disrupt my entire life this way. It felt like I’d shoved a stick into the spokes of a rapidly spinning wheel for the hell of it, and now I was dealing with that inevitable crash that came afterward. To say I didn’t like change was a massive understatement. I preferred routine and liked to know what was coming from one moment to the next. However one phone call from my dad, telling me he was sick, had shoved my carefully curated world off-kilter. If I was going to stay here, I was going to need my privacy.

I would be here for my father in the ways I knew how. I’d granted his request to reconnect. But I drew the line at actually being a member of the community. Even if I had been once before. That was a long time ago, and I wasn’t looking to reflect on the past.

No thanks.

“That won’t be necessary. Just write up the contract offering asking price. I’d prefer to close as soon as possible.”

Her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish several times as she tried to process what I’d just said. “I—Okay!” she finally said enthusiastically, barely able to contain her excitement for the fat commission she was about to make. “That’s—I’ll get right on that.”

I let out a grunt, bypassing her extended hand on my way to the door. I wasn’t one for pleasantries. I had things to do, so I didn’t see the need to stick around for a bit of small talk with a person I didn’t know the first thing about.

I headed for my Mercedes G-Wagon parked right by the front door in the large half-circle driveway, climbed in, and started it. I caught a glimpse of my realtor from the corner of my eye as she stepped out of the house, her hand in the air, mid-wave, but I was already driving past, my mind already occupied with the laundry list of things I had to get done.

As if she sensed it was the most inconvenient time possible, my dash lit up with my mother’s name as the ringing of my cellphone connected to the car’s Bluetooth echoed through the speakers.

I didn’t have time for her particular brand of shit, but I knew if I didn’t answer, she’d keep calling until I couldn’t stand it any longer and finally picked up. Best to get it over with.

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