Page 50 of The Suit

I muffled a laugh. The housekeeper in our Hamptons estate wasn’t overly fond of my baby brother and the havoc he left in his wake. It had come to a head two summers ago when he’d left Harvard for the weekend and taken some friends there. The wine cellarhad been ransacked and the contents - including a fifty-thousand-dollar bottle of rum that the Governor-General of Jamaica had given my father when he’d defended him in a false fraud charge - was vomited into the pool, which then took two days to drain and clean, and another two days to refill.

My parents, so terrified Cynthia was going to mutiny along with the rest of the household staff, united in banning Rory from the house unless under supervision. The damage, including the vast pay increases my parents had given everyone, came close to a million dollars.

“Dude, you’re not allowed there by yourself. You know the rules.”

“Fucks’ sake,” he huffed. “How many more times do they want me to apologize?”

“You’ll be apologizing for as long as Cynthia holds a grudge,” I snorted.

“Doesn’t matter though seeing as you’ll be there, so I won’t be breaking any stupid rule.”

I killed the engine but remained where I was. “Rors, I’m going up tonight, and the boys are coming tomorrow. You’re welcome, but no one else is. Kit and Bell are coming, this isn’t a party weekend. Understand?”

He stayed silent for a moment, but I knew he wouldn’t argue, not if Murray, Bell, and Kit were coming; he wasn’t the only one who carried misplaced guilt from last summer.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Raffy..?”

I scratched through my beard knowing I was about to be subjected to a pleading request, because he only ever called me Raffy - a name he’d used as a kid because he couldn’t pronounce Raferty - when he wanted something,

“Yes…?”

“You know Downy Shaw, my teammate?”

“Yeah…” I pictured a giant who rivalled Diego in size, a Tight-End who played Varsity with Rory. Nothing got past Downy Shaw.

“He’s looking for an internship this summer. Have you got any spaces? Can he come and work with you? He really needs the credits for playing next year.”

I groaned. Our HR department at work was drowning in the applications for internships, and they wouldn’t appreciate me adding one more to the pile, even though it was my firm. Just because Rory was my brother, didn’t mean he automatically got to jump the queue.Furthermore, I knew he was asking me because he didn’t want to ask Blaine or Amory. As much as our sisters doted on him, they also put up with much less shit from him than I ever seemed to.

“Tell him to call me on Tuesday, I’ll see what he’s like. We work hard, Rors. If he can’t do that, then it won’t work out.”

“He works hard, bro. I promise.”

“Okay, we’ll see. I gotta go before I get yelled at for parking in the wrong spot. I’ll see you tomorrow. Try and stay out of trouble before then. Love you.”

“You know it. Love you, Raffy.”

I cut the call and jumped out of my car, passing Chuck, one of the hospital security guards, as I ran in.

“Hey, man,” I fist bumped him, “I’ll be less than two minutes. I just gotta drop this off for Doc Boyson.”

He eyed the car I was driving today; my matte black Bugatti. “Wanna leave me your keys in case I need to move it?”

“No chance,” I grinned, sprinting off toward the stairs where I took them two at a time until I reached the fourth floor.

My heartrate had barely had time to rise before I stopped. Clearly the additional sex cardio I’d been indulging in over the past week was having an effect on more than my dick, and my brain.

Dr. Boyson had one of those faces where he couldn’t realistically become anything other than a pediatrician, maybe a teacher or a clown, but much better as a peds doctor. Permanently cheery, he was the true definition of someone with rosy apple cheeks, and I’d never seen him wearing anything other than his lab coat covered in an array of dozens of brightly colored buttons and pins. I’d even invited him out to play basketball with the boys, just to see if he did in fact have something else in his wardrobe, but no.

“Hey, doc, how are you?”

He shook my outstretched hand. Even though I’d known him years, we hadn’t yet reached the level of an opening greeting hug. “Good, what’re you doing here?”

“Just heading out for the weekend and came to drop off some forms for the Rodean custody case,” I slapped the thick brown manila envelope against my palm.

“You could have mailed them,”

“Wouldn’t have seen my favorite doc then, would I?” I replied as we ambled down the corridor to where his office was, while he peered through the windows of each room to check on the kids inside.

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