Page 21 of When It Rains He Pours

Chapter Four

Liam

One week earlier

Sitting in the coffeeshop, I stirred a few packets of sugar into my coffee. Tapping the spoon on the rim of the cup, I rested it inside and took a sip. I couldn't think straight. For the first time in my life, I actually didn't have a damn clue what the hell I should do.

There's other ways we can do this.

Adjusting the cuffs on my sleeves, I stared out the window and watched for my partner. He was supposed to be there twenty minutes ago, but just like usual, he was late.

Staring off, I was startled by a set of heavy hands and a thick laugh. “Hey, asshole, waiting long?”

Rolling my eyes, I cleared my throat and leaned back in my chair. “Late much?”

“I know, but hey, at least you know I'm consistent.” Laughing, Jacob slid into the chair across from me with that stupid smile on his face he always had. “So, how did it go? Did you get it done?”

Shaking my head no, I fiddled with the handle of my cup. “She hasn't been there when I've gone by. I mean, I can keep trying, but I think I might have found something better.”

Waving his arm, he called out to a waitress standing by the counter. “Can I get some coffee over here?” His brows arched as she shot him a look. “Some time today would be nice.”

Always entitled, like the world revolves around his dumb ass.

“Are you even listening?” I asked.

A stern look fell over his face as he relaxed into his seat. Throwing his arm out, he rolled his fingers in the air. “I was listening and I don't agree with you. There's nothing better here, we've already been through this place a million times.” Throwing out a finger, he pointed at me, his lids folding like heavy blankets over his eyes. “And we're almost done, we're so fucking close. Why the hell would you go looking for something else?”

“Just hear me out, alright?” Cocking his head into his shoulder, his lips went thin as I kept talking. “There's a building a few blocks over from here, it has a great view of the harbor and a ton of space we could work with. I was thinking, maybe this time we use something that's already available. And instead of building a hotel, what if we turned it into luxury apartments?”

“Apartments? That's your bright fucking idea?” Letting out a sigh, a sarcastic smile teased his lips. “You want to put our name on an apartment building that's going to end up going to shit anyway? You're fucking with me right?” Jacob's voice had deepened, his eyes turning to pinpricks as he spoke. “That's not what we do, Liam. We don't play dress up with shit, paint it yellow and call it gold. We—”

Leaning forward, I held up my hand to stop him from trying to belittle me. “Don't start, Jacob.” Letting our eyes connect, I matched his stare. “I know what we do, but I really think you should just think about it. It would work, I know it would. Why don't you come check it out with me, see it for your—”

“No, we're not doing that shit. We came here for one thing and one thing only, that's what we agreed on.” Stabbing his finger into the table top, his glare hardened. “What's gotten into you? Why would you even suggest something like that?”

“Fuck you man, none of this shit was set in stone. We had an idea, and now there's a new idea. What the hell is wrong with that?”

We both went silent as the waitress approached the table and placed Jacob's coffee down. He sat there, glaring at me as if he was the one who was in charge of this whole empire, and I should know better than to go against him.

But the truth was—he wasn't in charge, I was.

It was a seventy thirty split between us, plain and simple. The company was in both our names, not just his, not just mine, but I held the larger chunk. That's how our father wanted it.

And for good reason.

He had a rap sheet the length of my arm. Most of the shit was stupid; petty left, receiving stolen goods, just dumb shit he didn't have to do.

It always felt like he went out and did that shit just to piss off our father. Like he was giving him the finger and letting him know that he was going to do whatever the hell he wanted to, and no one could stop him.

He was a boy who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and he used that to his advantage. Jacob expected the fucking world without having to lift a finger.

He hadn't earned a damn thing, he simply had it handed to him on silver platter. And even that wasn't done by choice.

Our father was gracious enough to leave him something, because that's what our mother had wanted. If my father could have had his way, he wouldn't have left Jacob with a damn pot to piss in.

Working with family wasn't a simple task. He was my older brother, and I knew the fact that our father left a larger piece of his legacy to me really pissed on his parade. In his eyes he deserved it, just because he was the first born.

I could shut the whole fucking thing down if I wanted to, but I tried to treat him like we were equal.

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