Page 19 of The Billionaire Experience

“Your mom. Lindy.” She screwed her mouth to one side. “I guess that’s not everyone. But that’s a lot of houses to buy when you’ve never owned one yourself.”

“Lindy doesn’t count.” She was his first serious girlfriend back when he thought he knew what love was. He’d bought the brownstone because she loved it, and then moved into it with her before promptly moving out. “I lived there.”

“Yeah, for like, a month.”

Six weeks, but arguing that point seemed petulant. “I was twenty-two. Too young to be neck-deep in commitment.” Lindy had started talking marriage the moment the bed had been delivered. He’d stood opposite the naked mattress from her while she painted a picture of a future that’d made his head spin. A destination wedding, maybe, she’d said. And the baby’s room in there. Do you think Jaylyn will be my bridesmaid, or will she want to stand on your side of the aisle? Will my parents have enough room to sleep over when they fly in to visit for the holidays?

Marriage. Baby. In-laws. He could still feel the burn in his throat like he might be sick.

“You’re not too young for commitment now,” Jaylyn said. “What’s your excuse?”

“What’s yours?” Deflect. “And how do you remember any of this stuff? Weren’t you like, twelve years old?”

“Seventeen.” She arched an eyebrow, resembling a seventeen-year-old at the moment. Absently, she spun the skull ring on her index finger, its diamond eyes catching the light from the front window. It was a killer design—hers. He’d rarely seen her without it since she’d put it on her own finger. “I like that you bought a house with old bones. Fixing it up will help you feel accomplished. And feeling accomplished will give you confidence. You are a grown man now.”

“Am I,” he said flatly. Sometimes he felt old enough to have lived two lifetimes, each of them with their own jagged, meandering trajectory. Other times, like now when he was sitting in a house without a kitchen sink because of a half-baked idea to move to the suburbs and pen a second book, he felt like a kid who was shit at planning for the future. One who had grown up with the opposite of normal parents.

His father was a billionaire traveler who maintained healthy-bordering-on-crazy friendships with his four children’s mothers, and his mom was a soap opera starlet who’d slid in and out of relationships with equally famous men over the years.

“Anything else need smudging?” Jaylyn leaned on the doorframe separating kitchen from living room. She sent a look down his person like she was considering smoking him up next.

“Nah, we’re good.”

“Good. I’m going out.”

“Where?”

“Out.” She made it a point to widen her eyes and meet his stare. “Your name is not Octavius.”

“Thank God for that.”

“And even if it was, Dad doesn’t pester me about where I go.”

She had him there. Still, he had a hard time not worrying about her. “Be safe.”

“I’d invite you to come with me, but you’d make a terrible wingman.”

“I would.” He wouldn’t allow a guy within fifty feet of her if it were up to him. She was his baby sister, and only twenty-five. Young enough to make bad decisions she could regret later. “Don’t go home with any weirdos.”

“Weirdos are the most fun.” She grinned, enjoying taunting him. “You should do something fun. Call Zander. Maybe he’ll meet you for a beer.”

“I’m going to write.” He felt the weight of those four words like an anvil on his chest. He’d put it off all day, and here it was, nearly seven at night. He’d done little more than open the manuscript and type the title page, followed by “Chapter One,” followed by…nothing.

“You’re too hard on yourself. Start tomorrow when you’re fresh.”

“After the sage kicks in?” He looked around the room as if he could see evidence that it was working, but the house looked the same. Couch, recliner, coffee table. Big-ass TV wrapped in foam and plastic and not yet mounted on the wall.

“What’s this really about, Bro? Did someone else use the cursed phrase?” She regarded him like he was short some brain cells.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Handywoman took a look at the place today, after she asked me not to cut the tree down. She said they talk to each other.”

“I like her already.” Jaylyn grinned. “Can she fix the sink so we can live like normal people?”

“First of all, you don’t live here, and secondly, yes. She can.”

“What are you waiting for? Call her.”

“I feel like I should be able to do it myself.” He sent a withering glare in the direction of the kitchen, where a very big hole in the countertop mocked him.

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