Page 8 of Luck of the Draw

Brennan had, of course, denied everything. Pretty convincingly, he had to admit. And Connor never brought it up again, but that conversation proved that somewhere in his brain was the idea that Brennan had non-friend feelings for Liza.

Brennan gulped silently and opened his mouth to offer a respectful apology, but then Connor pitched the balled-up paper at Brennan’s face and doubled over in hysterical laughter.

“Your fuckin’ face is priceless.” Connor tossed another wad of paper at him. “Get to work.”

Brennan suppressed the urge to sigh again as he sat down at the desk and began filling out the paperwork.

Fucking paperwork. This was the absolute pinnacle of fucking ridiculous.

He continued to methodically scrawl his information on the paperwork, and then the dread of the true gravity of the situation subtly began to weigh on him.

The Harrah’s charge on the bill back at his parents’ house was milk money compared to another certain problem of his.

There’s no way Jimmy could offer a salary that would compete with paying back something like this other certain problem.

Surely, Orson wasn’t actually cutting him off.

Because if he was, this certain problem might potentially cost Brennan a hell of a lot more than just money. This problem caused Brennan to roll up his sleeves and release another button on his shirt as sweat began to dampen his forehead.

“B.?”

Brennan glanced up from the paperwork and found himself looking straight into Liza’s big, hazel eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He shifted his eyes and then coyly arched one eyebrow to play off the firestorm of nerves roiling inside him. “Not a thing, honey.”

“You’re so full of shit.” She dragged a chair to sit in front of him. “Tell me.”

He waved his hand in an elegant, carefree dismissal. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Liza gave him a slow blink. “Lies.”

“Now, L.” He tilted his head placidly and flashed a smile that he used primarily to make women discard their panties. However, with this particular woman it was merely to beguile her into dropping the subject. “You know that if there was actually anything to tell, you would be the first person I would spill my guts to.”

Propping her elbow on the desk, Liza curled her fingers into a fist and rested her chin on her knuckles. “I don’t like when you lie to me, B.”

“I’m not, sweetheart.” He turned his palms over, gesturing at the paperwork. “Isn’t it obvious what’s bothering me right now? My dad is obnoxious.”

She pursed her lips and did another slow blink, dragging her gaze sideways to look at Connor. “Brennan has suddenly decided he doesn’t want to tell me about his problems.”

“That’s because Riley likes to pretend that everyone else has all the problems that only he can solve,” Connor retorted, once again sporting his shit-eating grin. “And that he has no problems at all.”

“L.,” Brennan tried again, “I swear, it’s not—”

“I swear it is.” She slid her gaze back to his. “Don’t be like that with us. Don’t put up a wall. Who’s going to look after you if we don’t? We can’t look after you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Brennan maintained his cool-as-a-cucumber exterior and picked up her hand to kiss the back of it. “I have no wall. It’s just this nonsense with my dad. If anything escalates to more than that, you know you’ll be the first person I come crying to.”

She tsked, slipping her hand out of his as she stood. “Okay, B.”

Brennan turned back to the paperwork.

This was not the kind of problem he could reveal to them; especially not her. Liza would be terrified and sick with worry, and Brennan wasn’t going to do that to her.

Because this problem…this wasn’t the kind of problem that you told your best friend so they could give you sage advice from an outsider’s perspective. This was a problem that nothing and nobody could fix—likely not even Brennan himself.

Because this problem was none other than Vito “The Dentist” Moreci, the head of the New Orleans crime family and a real charmer who sure loved Brennan. That is, he loved all the money Brennan had poured into an underground gambling racket over the past eight years.

---