Page 96 of My Brother's Billionaire Best Friends

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The inside is cool and sunlit, full of open spaces and warm tones and furniture I know cost more than Parker’s car. Maybe mine too. I wait in the hallway, hands in my pockets, trying not to grind my teeth.

Then I hear his voice.

“Gavin.”

I turn.

Jamison Thatcher hasn’t changed much. A little more gray at the temples. A little more sun in his skin. He’s still tall. Still walks like he used to stand in front of cameras instead of boardrooms.

I don’t say anything at first. Neither does he.

Then he gives a small smile. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”

“I wasn’t either.”

We shake hands.

“You look good,” he says.

I nod. “So do you.”

He gestures toward the patio. “Come on. Let’s sit.”

The table out back is surrounded by orange trees and sunflowers. I sit, and he pours iced tea like we’re catching up on a casual Thursday afternoon.

To get the ball rolling, I start. “Thank you for agreeing to this.”

“You said you had questions. I’ll try to give you answers.”

I nod. “I need the truth.”

He sits back. Doesn’t ask what I mean. Just waits.

So I say it. “What actually happened with you and Mom and the divorce?”

His face tightens just slightly. He’s quiet for a moment. “Nothing like what the press says.”

I blink. “What does that mean?”

“Viv and I…by the time those pictures ran, we were already separated. I’d moved out of the house. We were weeks from finalizing everything.”

“But the scandal?—”

“She made it one. Not me. Not us.”

That hits harder than I expect. “She leaked the story? She’s allergic to scandals of her own. Why would she do that?”

He nods. “She needed public sympathy.”

“What the hell for?”

“She had started her firm two years before. It wasn’t going well. She needed traction. She needed a villain for her narrative.” He shrugs.

But I’m seeing red. “And that was you.”

He smiles, but it’s tired. “Better me than her, in her eyes.”

“What about the affair with Odette?”

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