Reckless (Mason Family 3)

This is my time to prove to myself that I can stand on my own two feet.

I’m not about to get all screwed up.

Again.

Five

Boone

“What do you think, Boone?” My eldest brother, Holt, looks at me from across the conference table. “Do you think the Banner property will work, or should we keep looking?”

A coffee pot sits behind him, and all I can think is that the steam looks like it’s coming from his head. And, truth be told, if he knew what I was thinking, there would be heat rising from his head.

I’m tempted to take a picture and text it to Coy and see if he agrees. He’d understand my need for finding things to keep me entertained. He’s not big into business meetings or property acquisition. He doesn’t think that spreadsheets are porn like the rest of them either. Holt, Oliver, and Wade live and breathe the company our grandfather started. I, on the other hand, don’t.

“I think …” I begin, sitting back in my chair and stretching my legs out under the table, “that I’m ready to call it a day.”

Oliver rests his head in his hands.

Wade stares at me like he’s unsure how we’re related.

The aforementioned steam continues to rise above Holt’s head.

“It’s ten in the morning, Boone,” Holt says as if somehow I’m not aware of that.

“I know. You made me show up at six this morning for no apparent reason, and I’ve watched every single minute pass on the clock just above the coffee pot behind you.”

Oliver stands, his chair rolling quietly across the carpeted floor. “And I thought we were making progress with him.”

I love when they talk about me in pronouns.

I roll my eyes and look at the ceiling. “You don’t expect me to want to be here. Can we stop acting like anyone is surprised by this information?”

Wade raises his coffee cup to his mouth. “I’m not surprised. Quite frankly, I’m more surprised every day that I come to this office and find you here.”

My arms fold over my chest as I look at Wade. “You act like I’m never here. I’m here every single day.” My head whips to Oliver. “Or I have been since Coy moved back to town, and you told me how much you guys needed me.”

“I never said that,” Oliver deadpans.

“Nah, you did. You practically begged me. It was one of the best days of my life.”

Holt laughs. “Did you beg him, Ollie?”

“I don’t beg anyone for anything.” Oliver levels his gaze with mine. “And I certainly did not beg my little brother to come to work like the adult he is.”

“Here we go,” Wade mutters, shaking his head.

I grin at Oliver.

Words are unnecessary at this point in the conversation. We both know what I’m about to say. We both also know that I’m right, and there’s nothing he can do about it because I did, in fact, close the biggest deal in our family’s company’s history.

Me.

Not Holt. Not Oliver. Not Wade or Coy.

Me.

Holt kind of loves it because he ultimately looks good with any success in the family business. Wade doesn’t care. He gets sick of me bringing it up, for sure, but Wade is beyond mere mortal things like pissing contests. He’s above that, off in Wade’s world doing Wade things, and Coy has Grammys, so he beats us all without even competing.

But Oliver? It drives him nuts.

“Maybe you’re right,” I tell him, letting my eyes widen for the briefest second. “It wouldn’t make much sense for you to want me here, considering I’m so much better at your job than you without even trying.”

Oliver takes a long, slow drink of coffee before setting the cup down with a thud. Instead of firing back with a retort, he picks up his phone.

“Was it that easy?” I ask. “Wow, Oliver. Did I finally break you?”

The corner of his lip turns up. “Hardly. I got sidetracked by this text from Anjelica. She said to have you call her.”

Holt bursts out laughing. Even Wade cackles a little.

I have to pick my jaw up off the table.

Anjelica Grace is Coy’s new agent. She’s a ball of fire with a sprinkling of explosives mixed in for fun and she likes nothing more than getting shit done.

To sum it up, she’s the antithesis of me.

And, because Holt either has a dark sense of humor or Oliver got his ear, Holt told Anjelica that I would be the one to go to if she had any questions about how our family business works or needed something handled.

It’s been a delightful few months.

I force a swallow. “You don’t play fair.”

Oliver grins, mirroring the one I gave him just a few moments ago. “I’ll tell her you’ll call her as soon as we’re done.”

“Go ahead and lie to her,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t give a shit. I have … things to do. Right, Holt?”