Page 4 of Hush Money
When the elevatordoors open to my brother’s penthouse, I take it all in. I don’t live like this anymore—at least, not to this extent. I live as much of a minimal lifestyle as possible. Well, as minimal as one can live when they were born into American royalty.
I save most of my money. I invest it in small businesses and non-profits. I try to practice what I preach as much as I can. But when I come back to New York, I get swept back into the glamour of the Everett lifestyle. My big brother, though, works his ass off. He carries the weight of the oldest. The heir to everything, including the brunt of my father’s bullshit. Our younger half-brother, Brooks, though… He just reaps the benefits. He lives the exact life that the world thinks we all live—blowing money in a different country every week, surrounded by models and celebrities, wasting away in his warped sense of reality.
But he’s about to find out why Julian and I have such a complicated relationship with our father.
Julian rounds the corner, and when he sees me, I see instant relief wash over him. His shoulders fall like he’s letting go of some weight, and we wrap each other in a hug. He’s probably the person I trust the most in this world. We have been through so much together. The death of our mother. The wrath of our father.
And now this. What’s coming now.
Everything has always been on his shoulders. I always feel a little bit better when he feels like he can lay some of it on me.
“Keat,” he says, clapping my back. “It’s really fucking good to see you.”
Around the corner comes in a short brunette, hair cut above her shoulders, wearing one of my brother’s sweatshirts. She smiles faintly as she makes her way to me, and I wrap her in a hug too.
“Hi, Keaton,” she says.
“Hey, Sawyer,” I say back. She’s been in my brother’s life for a few months now, and honestly, I really like what she’s done to him. I’ve never seen him have the zest he has, the desire to do more for himself and not be so concerned with living up to the expectations laid on him at birth.
“When does Brooks get in?” I ask as we make our way to Julian’s living room. Bless his soul, he has takeout from the Thai place waiting for me on the coffee table. He shrugs as he falls into the extra-large couch, Sawyer falling into place beside him.
“Who knows,” Julian says. “You know the only sense of urgency that boy has is when it comes to his social life.”
I shake my head as I unpack the food, pulling the top off one of the dishes and letting the aroma fill the room. My mouth waters. We sit for a few hours, shooting the shit, talking about the projects I’ve been working on, talking to Sawyer about the West Coast, and listening to some of the improvements my brother has been making within Everett Enterprises. He really is the best of us. At some point, Brooks texts to say that his jet just landed, and he needs to push till tomorrow.
Typical.
The end of the fucking world as we know it, but Brooksy needs a nap.
After another hour or so, I look up at Julian as Sawyer sleeps quietly in a ball under his arm.
“How bad is this, Julian?” I ask him. He takes a bite of his own food and then looks up at me.
“It’s not good, Keat. But if we can pull off what I want to pull off, I think we can save everything.” I nod. My big brother always has a plan. “You want to crash here tonight so you don’t have to schlep all the way downtown?”
I shake my head as I push to stand.
“Nah. I’m going to get one more night of sleep in ignorant bliss before the world explodes tomorrow.”
He smiles and nods.
“Good deal. Mac will get ya home. Be safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, J,” I say as Mac presses the elevator button for me.
We drivein silence as we head downtown, the city as loud and bright as ever. But as we go farther and farther down, I sit up.
“Mac, can we make a pitstop?”
Mac nods in the mirror.
“Of course,” he says, “you’re the boss.” I cringe. I hate that. I’m not anyone’s boss. I just have the right name. “Where to?”
I look out the window.
I know I shouldn’t.
I know it’s probably useless anyway.
