I studied him, recognizing that the brother that once looked out for me was the man who was now taking some delight in my plight.
“He gave you everything you needed to survive on your own, Anne. It’s your fault that you’re not smart enough to support yourself.”
“You say that right after pointing out that dad has blackballed me from many of the places that I could work to support myself.”
He shrugged.
“Surely you know people outside of dad’s circle that could hire me. I mean, if you’re so smart, you’re not just taking a job handout from dad. You’re building your own contacts.”
It wasn’t wise to offend the one person who could help me, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
His eyes narrowed. “Dad’s friends are my friends.”
“A mini-dad then.”
He scowled. “You came here to beg for money and insult me?”
“I’m not begging for money. I’m trying to get a job but dad and now you, apparently, want to make sure I can’t get one.”
“You’re just not trying hard enough.”
“How about investors? I have a business idea. I’ve created a proposal. I could give it to you to review.”
He picked up his magazine and started reading it again, completely ignoring me.
“What happened to you, Peter? There was a time you and I were like a real brother and sister.”
“It’s time for you to grow up, Anne. Both dad and I agree. No more handouts. I’d promised dad I wouldn’t enable you anymore. You need to learn to make it on your own.”
“You don’t.” I stood, knowing this conversation was going nowhere.
“I earn my keep.”
I shook my head. “If dad ever turned on you, took away the job and money, turned his friends against you, you’d flounder worse than I do.”
“Fortunately, that theory won’t be tested, will it? Look, my hands are tied. Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn’t.”
“He should have placed me for adoption. I guess he didn’t so he could punish me for mom.”
Peter shrugged and flipped a page of his magazine.
“I could work for Bran Erickson.”
I didn’t know why I tossed that out there except I knew my brother didn’t like Bran. Mostly, he was envious of Bran.
Bran had inherited his family business at nineteen and in the last decade had more than tripled its value. My family was filthy rich, but not due to anything my brother did. The company was stable but hadn’t grown like Bran’s had.
“Why would he want you?”
I wasn’t going to tell him Bran wanted a surrogate to give him a child.
Then he smirked. “A kept woman, maybe.”
“You’re vulgar, Peter.” I shook my head, this time feeling pity for him. “Mom would be disappointed in you.”
I didn’t know that, of course. She’d died when I was born, but I couldn’t imagine any mother being okay with what Peter and my dad were doing to me.
He flinched but maintained his glare. “Mom isn’t here. Thanks to you.”