“Come in.” He swiveled his computer chair around as his cousin Drake came inside.
“You got a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
His cousin took the only seat in the office beside his desk. “I heard we have a mutual problem.”
“Which one? That you also regret joining The Last Riders, or that you ate at the diner for lunch and the chili gave you indigestion?”
“When are you and your brothers going to quit harping on the fact that I joined The Last Riders?”
Dustin leaned back in his seat, crossing his hands over his abs. “How about when Hell freezes over? That soon enough for you?”
“I don’t know why you all are against me joining them.”
“I don’t know …” Sarcasm dripped off his tongue. “Maybe because Porters don’t like to party on Friday nights?”
“You do know that Rachel is married to Cash, and he’s a Last Rider?” Drake returned the sarcasm with his own.
“Don’t remind me.” Dustin dropped his relaxed pose, turning around to look down at the papers he had been working on before Drake interrupted him. “What do you want?”
“I want to know what we’re going to do about Fynn?”
“Ah … now I see. You blew me off on our appointment to do your business accounting, yet you’re suddenly sitting at my desk, wanting to know what I’m going to do about a problem that involves your kid?”
That Drake was having trouble beyond his control didn’t pass Dustin’s notice. He just didn’t give a fuck.
“I told you that Darcy was sick and I overslept.”
“I sat here, twiddling my thumbs for two hours, and you didn’t even bother to text me that you were sorry. ’Cuz, The Last Riders might not have any manners, but the Porters do.”
“I’m sorry,” Drake ground out through gritted teeth. “Now, can we talk about Fynn? I couldn’t get Darcy out of the back seat this morning when we got to school, because she said she was sick again. Bliss called me after lunch to tell me that she talked to Jessie, and the reason that Darcy might have been so sick lately was because of Fynn.”
“Probably so.” Dustin mentally began tallying a column of figures on a form he was filling out for a client.
“So …?” Frustrated at being ignored, Drake jerked the pen out of Dustin’s hand.
“Chill, Drake. Now, let me get this straight. You want my advice on how to handle your daughter’s bully, but you don’t want my advice on your money? How does that make sense?”
“I let you do my taxes.”
“I know you have a wad of cash not making any interest. You need to trust me that I won’t steer you wrong on investments.”
Dustin could see the wheels turning in his mind.
“Show me.”
“I thought you would never ask.” Grinning, he reached in his desk for a folder he had put together for him.
Over an hour passed before Dustin glanced at the clock on his desk and closed the folder before locking it in his desk.
“Got to go, ’cuz.” Dustin rose, holding the door open for Drake to leave.
“Wait … That’s it?”
“What else is there to say?” Dustin quickly locked his office door, then walked down the corridor with Drake trailing behind him. “If you don’t have a lick of sense in investing in the companies I showed you, then you can do your own taxes.”
“Fine. Do the paperwork. Text me the next appointment you have available.”
Stopping at his car, Dustin slapped Drake on the shoulder. “Good choice! You’re not going to be sorry. You’re going to have a wealthy sum of money when I’m done with you.”
“I hope so … I think. You don’t know anything I don’t know, do you?”
Dustin laughed, smacking him again. “Nope, you’re fine. But you will have to get a physical. It’s a requirement for one of the companies I want you to invest in. They want to know their investors are going to be around for the long haul.”
“Fine.”
“Gotta go. I have to pick Logan up from school. Oh …” Dustin opened his car door, getting inside. “About Fynn. Let the kids handle it. I’m taking a hand-off approach. You should try it.”
Drake brought his hand to the top of Logan’s door, preventing him from closing it. “Bullshit.”
“It’s true. What would you do if Darcy were a boy?”
“I would tell him what I told Cal to do when a bully picked on him at school—beat the fuck out of him at school, so no one will think twice about bothering him again.”
“There you go. That’s the same thing I told Logan.”
“Did it work?”
“So far, he hasn’t picked another fight with Logan, but I did have him moved to another classroom, which isn’t going to work for Darcy. Fynn’s picking on her in the lunchroom.”
“Little son of a bitch. Darcy is too small to beat Fynn in a fight. He’s twice her size!”