My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

She ignores my lame joke. “That’s quite impressive, Mr. Ives.”

“That’s what it takes to build a company like mine, Rosemary. It’s not a secret formula or a political connection or a trust fund. All of those things are helpful,” I say with a laugh, “if you’re fortunate enough to have access. But they’re not necessary.”

“You’re obviously passionate about this topic,” she states, and I nod. But before she can continue, my phone rings from inside my pocket.

“Sorry,” I apologize and pull it out to see Evan Willis’s name flashing across the screen. “Actually, I need to take this. Excuse me for a minute.”

“Of course. No problem.” Rosemary nods, and I get up from the table to walk toward the front of the restaurant and out the entrance door.

The front sidewalk is crowded and loud, even more so than inside Motel Morris, so I let the call ring to voice mail as I find a quiet alleyway about fifty feet up the block and step inside.

I dial Evan back, and I don’t even wait for him to say hello before jumping in.

“How goes it in Austin?”

“It’s so good, I’m not sure you’re ready to hear it.”

I grin and lean back against the warm bricks on the east side of the alley. It’s amazing how well they hold the heat of the summer sun even after the light is gone. “Is that so?”

“You bet your ass.”

Evan Willis has been one of my best friends since I was a precocious kid growing up in Brooklyn. We went to elementary, middle, and high school together, hung out on the weekends, and did every organized sport known to man as a duo. Hell, when my dad was relocated to Tampa during high school, I lived with Evan’s family for six months so I could finish my senior year without having to switch schools.

We attended college together at Yale, and, while I was building Fuse from the ground up, he was in my corner as my biggest supporter. He’s officially the CFO of my company and runs the secondary headquarters in Austin, but if you asked me to tell you about Evan Willis, I’d tell you he’s my chosen brother.

“So…” he starts. “You know a company by the name of TechLete Industries?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“I’ve never seen it, but I have to assume, given the parameters of a bear’s habits and habitat, that, yes, a bear shits in the woods.”

“God, Evan. You’re such a dork.”

“You asked. I answered.”

I roll my eyes. Evan is so funny, so smart, so likable. He also has the brain of an accountant, built to focus on the most minute of details. Sure, it comes in handy in his role as my CFO, but it also makes conversations with him sometimes go like this.

“Back to TechLete. Why’d you bring them up?”

“Because they’re one of Fuse’s newest clients.”

I don’t even have to look at a financial report to know that client alone will bring in seven-figure numbers. No doubt, Evan just snagged a big, fat, successful fish from the potential client sea.

“I think you’re right,” I retort on a laugh. “I wasn’t prepared for that news.”

Evan chuckles too. “The additions they want to our security and collaboration software are arduous, but I’m confident we can have them up and running in about three months.”

Three months? Not even I would have promised to have them running in three months with changes to the structure of the software, and I’m a lunatic who’s willing to work nights and weekends. Evan’s got a fiancée to answer to.

“You do realize that’s a lofty goal, right?”

“Yeah, well, I’m a lofty kind of guy,” he says cockily, obviously high on the achievement of landing such a big company. “A lofty kind of guy who can make big things happen.”

An annoyed laugh escapes my lips. “Yeah, yeah. Now put your dick away and tell me what team you’re putting on this job.”

“Matt Franks, Lee King, and Sara Miyagawa.”

Our best Austin team, without question.

“It sounds like you have everything under control, then.”

“Aw…you sound disappointed,” he teases. “Are you sad I’m not asking you to hop on a plane and head to Austin to help me figure this out?”

Always the fucking smartass.

I chuckle. “I’m just thankful the junior varsity hasn’t bitten off more than they can chew.”

“Oh, come on, Milo. Junior varsity? Pretty sure we lowly folks in Austin brought in a higher figure than you professionals in New York did last year.”

I bite my lip and shake my head. Giving shit to each other is one of our favorite pastimes. “Austin is a burgeoning market. In New York, we actually have to set the ball before we spike it.”

Evan laughs. “Don’t worry. You’re the face of the company, buddy. We’ll keep you even if we don’t really need you anymore.”