Page 76 of My Brother's Best Friends

“Come on,” Alex says, nudging me toward the lift. “It’s pointless, anyway. She’s not going to tell Makayla. There’s an NDA in place.”

“I just might,” Melanie retorts. “If anyone can dance around an NDA, it’s me. I didn’t make junior partner on looks alone.”

“I’m guessing you sucked a few senior partner dicks along the way,” Alex scoffs.

“Better men than you,” she hits back.

“Stay the fuck away from Makayla.”

“What are you going to do?” Melanie smirks. “Just like you said, it’s my word against yours. And no one is going to believe a set of rich, powerful men were taken advantage of by a respectable attorney like me.”

“Anyone who actually knows you will see through that act,” I counter.

“Let me get this straight,” Alex cuts in. “Did you plan to smear us before you crawled into our bed, or did the idea hit you afterward—knowing your sister was dating our friend and partner?”

“Why does it matter?” she purrs, dodging the question. “The point is, I have you exactly where I want you.”

“Right where you want us—for what?” I ask, already regretting the question.

“Money and power, boys,” Melanie says, as though imparting cosmic wisdom. “They’re the best drug on earth, and you three are my ultimate fix. I just can’t get enough.”

I turn my gaze to Alex because I can’t stand looking at Melanie anymore. We’re screwed and we both know it. No amount of threats will shake her off this path. But I’ll be damned if I’m just going to roll over and play dead. Short of confessing the entire sordid affair to Makayla in the next twenty minutes, I don’t see that we have any viable moves.

“I may not know how to hurt you right now, but if you go anywhere near Makayla again, I swear I will figure it out,” I promise.

“Revenge doesn’t suit you, Kellan. Stick to what you’re good at—lifting weights and getting head.”

If only we’d seen through her from the start and stayed out of her bed.

Alex tugs me toward the lodge. “She’s going to do what she wants and there’s nothing we can do to stop her.”

“But if you think you’re getting another penny from any one of us, you’re mistaken,” I add, making it clear that I’m not playing her game any longer.

“You might want to reconsider,” Melanie warns, lowering her voice to a theatrical whisper. “I can blow up this little lovefest. I can tank your company—imagine Bryan’s face when he learns you used his fiancée’s sister. And if that doesn’t scare you, your board will lose their minds once they know who they’re really in bed with.”

“Come on,” Alex insists, being the voice of reason for both of us.

He practically drags me away as I seethe with rage. And Melanie just stands there, smiling sweetly, holding one too many cards.

23

OSCAR

I’m chatting with the resort’s sommelier, hungry for insight on opening a winery. Earlier today it hit me: I want Makayla to succeed with every fiber of my being.

“As far as soil goes, it’s the single most important factor,” Henrik says. “Grow grapes in the wrong earth and you’re staring at a colossal financial failure.”

“I see. So we’re talking true Napa Valley soil.”

Still, my mind drifts to her—sated and asleep, naked and sprawled across the bed, sunlight streaming through the windows to gild her skin.

“If you’re focused on reds, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot are your best bet,” Henrik says. “Pinot Noir can thrive, too.”

“What about whites? Plenty of people crave a fruity, floral Chardonnay.”

Makayla. She’s one of them.

“Oh, absolutely. California weather is kind to Chardonnay. And—mind you—always choose natural fertilizers; organic wines areall the rage. Depending on your fertilizer and the barrels you ferment in … you could easily rival the Italians and the French.”

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