Millionaire Boss (Freeman Brothers 1)

“Okay. Then there’s a place to start. Today while I’m at the office, start putting together your resume. We’ll take it from there,” I told him.

He agreed and brought over the platter of pancakes. As we ate, I thought about his future and how much I wished I could do something more to help him. I wished I could bring him along with me so he could work for Freeman. The family was great, the rest of the team was amazing, and I knew he would fit right in. But I hadn’t been working there long enough to ask them to hire my brother. That seemed like I was overreaching my place in the company. Besides, with that type of organization, I was sure they probably had an established accountant already.

When we were finished with breakfast, I gathered everything I needed for work, then stopped by to see him again.

“You already have your extra key. I’m going to talk to the landlord at lunch and let her know you’re staying here. I’ll get you added to the lease,” I told him.

“You don’t need to go out of your way to do that,” he said. “I’m going to get out of your hair soon.”

“You’re not in my hair, and it’s not going out of my way. You’ll stay here. It’s good to have you around, and you don’t need to be dealing with trying to find your own place and everything while all this is going on. Stick around until everything is more settled and you’re on your feet again. Besides, getting you on the lease is just so she doesn’t freak out if she’s in the complex and sees some guy on the patio. I don’t want her to think I’d been invaded or anything,” I said.

He laughed. The sound wasn’t completely full like I was used to, but it was something. I would take any little flashes of him that showed he was gradually climbing out of the gloom. It would take time. This wasn’t something he was just going to get over in the snap of his fingers. It didn’t matter what she’d done and how much she’d hurt him. My brother loved Evelyn, and it was going to hurt for a long time. But I was going to be there for him in every way I could, and eventually he would have life in his control again.

“I’m going to go by the house today and get some stuff,” he told me.

“You’re sure you don’t want to wait so I can go with you?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. She’s going to be at work, so I won’t run into her. It will be easier for me to just go in, get it done, and have it over with.”

“Well, if you change your mind, call me. I can meet you there after work.”

“I will.”

I hugged him and left, knowing that was going to be much harder for Brandon than he was letting on. He wasn’t just going back to the house he shared with her to get clothes and personal belongings. He was facing off against the life he’d left behind and extracting himself from it piece by piece. That was going to be tough, and I started to think of ways I could make him feel better when I got home. A round of some of the board games we used to play when we were younger might be in order.

I was at my desk a couple of hours later going over some of the early reports when Quentin leaned in through the open door. He rapped his knuckles on the doorframe and smiled at me when I looked up at him.

“How’s it going, Stats?” he asked.

I stared at him for a few silent seconds. There was something different about him. He’d been more pleasant toward me the last few times we’d interacted, but not like this. And what was that “stats” business? I didn’t know if he had just given me a nickname or if that word meant something else to him.

“It’s going fine,” I finally answered. “Just checking the hashtags to see which have been the most effective ones. I’ll keep tracing them for a few days and then decide which ones to swap out with different ones that may be more appealing. All part of the process.”

He nodded, his smile seeming stuck across his face and his eyes just a little too wide.

“You looked a little off yesterday, like you were angry or upset about something. Is everything okay?” he asked.

This took me aback. Not only did I not realize I’d been showing any kind of signs of what might be going through my head, but I was surprised he’d noticed it. I didn’t think my mood was something that would even register to Quentin in the normal course of a day, much less stick with him enough to have him ask me about it. Especially as awkwardly as he was.