Millionaire Hero (Freeman Brothers 4)

After going over the papers, I looked up to ask Bryn a question. She wasn’t standing there, and I realized she’d left. That was fine. I had her number and could get in touch with her if I really needed to. It would be better if I went over everything and got more information before I spoke to her again, anyway.

Putting the folder aside, I took out my phone to text Gabe. My business partner in the investment firm, Gabe was not just somebody I worked with, but also one of my closest friends. He had been out of the office for the last two weeks after his wife, Cynthia, got seriously injured in an accident. He needed to stay at home with her to help her recover and take care of their son.

Just checking in, I texted him. How is everybody?

It took far longer for him to respond than it did Lindsey earlier in the day. I was wading through my inbox and sifting things around to try to get my schedule for the next few days in order when he finally messaged me back.

He assured me that things were going well and that his wife was healing. I had been tempted to tell him about Bryn. It was an interesting situation I knew he would have liked to sink his teeth into if he was still at the office. But because of everything that was going on with him, I didn’t want him to worry about it. A side job wasn’t something he needed to have on his mind. I would leave him out of it unless it became a big thing I couldn’t unravel on my own.

As it was, he was still trying to keep up with some of his main clients from home. He had shifted the majority of his accounts over to me, so he didn’t have to think about them while he was on leave. A lot of the less intense work was being handled by junior members of the staff while I managed the more involved elements. But his longest-running clients wanted to deal with him and only him. Which left him scrambling trying to handle it all.

I felt for him. I wanted to do something for him even though I had no idea what would be helpful. Because that was the ongoing feeling and nothing else came to mind, I ordered him a massive amount of Chinese food to be delivered later that evening, then pre-ordered a pizza for a couple of days later. A basket of cookies, brownies, muffins, and fruit rounded out the care package.

That done, my eyes wandered back over to the folder. My curiosity almost got the best of me, but I set it aside. I had my own clients to deal with, and time was getting slim before the first meeting of the afternoon. I had to put the file away for after hours.

Just like I told Lindsey I would be, I ended up staying at the office a couple of hours late. She was already texting and calling to bug me when I was trying to wrap up the last work I was going to do for the day. Finally, I gave in and headed for Vince’s house.

Remy was sitting on the porch swing next to Vince when I pulled up. The sound of my tires on the driveway made him lift his head and turn toward the driveway. I got out and called to him.

“Hey, Remy.”

His face lit up when he heard my voice. “Nick!”

The little boy wriggled like he wanted to get down off the porch swing, but Vince held him back.

“No, buddy. You can’t get down. Remember your leg. You need to rest it,” my brother said.

Remy was recovering after a topple off the back porch of his father’s house resulted in a broken leg and sprained arm. It was a lot for a three-year-old to deal with. Even more frustrating for a blind three-year-old eager to explore the world around him.

“I want Nick,” Remy said.

I had to admit, that warmed my heart. Lindsey told me she often talked about me when she spent time with her son before she had more custody of him, so he had been hearing about me since he was born. I had only been a tangible part of his life for a short time, but we’d already formed a bond. It was amazing to see him connect so strongly with my brother and to also feel connected to him in a special way.

Vince smiled and scooped the little boy up. Arranging him so the leg protected by a cast wasn’t disturbed, he carried him down the steps to me. I took him into my arms for a hug.

“So, what’s for dinner tonight?” I asked.

“Mama made ‘a-sa-na’,” he told me, trying hard to say “lasagna.” “And garlic bread.”