Page 39 of Fortune's Control
“I think we did.”
“That’s impossible.” I replayed the evening in my head. “We were having serious conversations.”
We fell into a shared fit of laughter.
“I’ll get more. Please let there be more.” Sophie checked the pantry. “Victory.”
We opened the second bottle, refilling our glasses.
I ignored my spinning head and took a big gulp. “Tomorrow will be even better.”
“Oh, that’s right. Lainey is coming over. We’ll have Lainey and margaritas. I picked the perfect time to visit, didn’t I?” She took a sip of wine and pressed a finger to her temple. “I might be a little intoxicated.”
“You picked the absolute perfect time. Plus, you’re my personal chef now, so this is ideal.” The room floated. “I also might be a little intoxicated. But a lot, not a little.”
Someone knocked on the kitchen door and entered. “You forgot to lock your door,” Dean said.
Sophie stared up at him, unmoving. “You didn’t give us time to answer.”
Dean took us in. He picked up the empty bottle and shook it. “You’re not capable of answering the door.”
“You want to join us?” I offered. Friendliness wasimportant.
He took a phone out of his pocket. “I’m only here as a favor to Shane. He asked me to check up on you.”
I snorted because that was funny. “You make it sound like we’re criminals.”
He didn’t laugh with me. “I have no evidence that you are.”
“Wow.” Sophie pointed at him. “He thinks we’re criminals.”
Dean ignored us, instead dialing his phone. “Hey. Your sister is here.” He paused for Shane’s response. “They’re drunk. Absolutely hammered.”
“Is it me, or was that rude?” I ask.
“Incredibly rude,” Sophie said.
Dean ignored us. “Okay, I’ll do that. What else?” He walked to a kitchen cabinet. “Sounds good. See you tomorrow.”
“What is my brother’s order now?” Sophie asked.
“Water and Tylenol.” Dean slammed down matching cups of water and two pills. He twisted a chair back and sat.
“You get to play babysitter?” Sophie picked up her water and swallowed the medicine.
Dean stared, stone-faced.
“His silence means yes,” she explained. “See, that’s what I mean. Shane decides, and everyone lines up to follow. Right, Dean?”
“I am not getting between you two.” Dean scrolled through his phone. “You can keep drinking as long as you stay where I can see you.” I offered him a glass, and he refused.
“Dean doesn’t enjoy fun,” Sophie said.
“I have fun.” Dean’s tone implied the opposite.
“Did Shane tell you about their group dynamic yet?” Sophie asked. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it for you. Dean is a stick in the mood. Mud. Same thing.” She flourished both arms towardshim. “His brother thinks life is one big joke. And Jack…” Sophie set her glass down and didn’t finish. “Well, you met him. Do you plan to call Jack as well, Dean, or will you spare me that fate?”
“A stick knows not to get between you two.” Dean looked at me. “Oh, Shane said one more thing.”
