Page 18 of The Arrangement
“You okay?” Renn asks. “You look a little putrid?”
“Learn a new word today?” I ask, spearing a broccoli floret.
“Yesterday, actually.” He stares holes through me. “Have you talked to Mom lately?”
Tate’s words from this afternoon ring through my mind as I take a bite of my dinner.“He just wants to talk to you and Gannon about buying the Tennessee Royals.”
This isn’t about Mom, and we all know it.
I stare at Renn and take another bite.
Tate leans back in his chair with a shit-eating grin. “This is about to get interesting.”
“Is this about the Royals?” I ask, watching him over the rim of my glass.
“Who told?” Renn groans, looking at Tate. “Fucker. I wanted to be the one to bring it up to him.”
“Why? So you could blindside him, and he could tee off on your face?” Tate asks.
Renn laughs. “You think that old man could hit me?”
The glass clinks as it touches the tabletop. The sound causes my brothers to stop squabbling and look at me. I lift a brow.
“Kidding.” Renn clears his throat. “But, yes, it’s about the Royals. I want to buy the team.”
“And I want—a lot of things,” I say, catching myself before Chloe’s name pierces the air, and I can’t take it back. “Doesn’t mean either of us will get those things.”
And neither will Thomas if I can help it.
“I was on board with you starting an airline,” Renn says.
“I had a business plan and no reason to have Towlin’s number on standby.”
Renn rolls his eyes. “Will you just think about it? I can get everyone on board but you.”
I sigh and watch my brother squirm like a little boy in his seat.
Renn and I have never been wildly close—mainly because I was the kind of person he liked to pester, and he was the kind of kid I wanted to throttle. I wanted to read books; he wanted to kick a ball at my face. So I’d challenge him to combat or a test of physical fitness, and all he’d run was his mouth. Despite being a physical phenom, he knew I’d kick his ass.
But it’s different now—for all of us. Gannon gets the calls about finances. I get the calls about safety and logic. We all callBianca for strategy sessions, and Tate provides entertainment. Ripley is always there to ride for any of us.
But Renn has seemed to turn to me even more over the past few months. He had me help upgrade his security system. He wanted my advice on what car was safest for Blakely. He had me help him hang a television in his living room—something he would’ve paid someone to do a year ago. Now that he’s married, he’s suddenly Mr. Fix It … with my help.
I want to blow him off, but the look on his face stops me. I can at least hear him out … then tell him no.
“Would you manage it?” I ask. “Does Blakely’s brother want to be involved? If so, what roles do you and Brock want to play?”
“We want to be involved. We don’t know much about running a professional sports organization, but that didn’t stop Gannon from buying the Arrows.”
I roll my eyes. “Which is why I suggest holding off for a while. Let’s consolidate what we already have and give ourselves time to breathe.”
“But I can’t breathe. That’s the thing. I need something to do, or Blakely is going to kill me.” His bottom lip sticks out. “She told me yesterday that if I didn’t find a hobby, she’d get a job.”
“What about your charity program?” I ask.
He makes a face at me. “I have a lot of energy, Jase. And you don’t know what it’s like being married.”
“Of course, he doesn’t,” Tate says, snorting. “Jason will never be married.”
