Just What I Needed(11)

Then I felt like an ass. “Shit. Sorry. I just . . .” I sighed. “I’m dragging my feet because maybe I don’t want to know who she is. Maybe finding out the truth is worse than speculating.”

“I get that. But I could point out that you’re a believer in signs. You know I thought it was a bunch of crap until you, Ash and Nolan staged the intervention on me last year. Seeing Lennox at Maxie’s that night and then again the next morning when we were both community volunteers for different organizations . . . I became a believer. That stuff isn’t random. There’s a reason you and this woman crossed paths. It might be your cosmic responsibility to track her down.”

I kept a straight face when my just-the-facts brother said the words “cosmic responsibility” without a sarcastic sneer.

“And speaking of responsibilities . . . since you’re not answering Mom’s calls, I’m supposed to remind you that your volunteer stint with LCCO starts tomorrow.”

“I know. I already talked to the assistant director this week. He’s got everything I requested.”

“Good. Look. I don’t want to tell you what to do”—I snorted at that; he’d been bossing me around my entire life—“but just call Mom. Be blunt with her about why you’ve been avoiding family stuff. She’ll stop because she misses you.”

I did miss the crazy, sweet hilarity that was our mother. “I’ll call her tonight.”

“Great. Now that I’ve done my duty, I’ve got a hot date with my woman.”

“Oh yeah? Where are you guys going?”

“Flurry.”

How things had changed. This time last year Brady worked practically twenty-four/seven and I was the one out on Friday and Saturday nights. Now he and Lennox were hitting the clubs on the weekend and I fell into bed alone.

I followed Brady to the front door. “Have fun.”

“We plan on it. And we’ll see you next Sunday for brunch?”

“Yeah.”

“Bring gear. Jaxson will be in town and Jens challenged them to a rematch.”

Our Lund cousins Jaxson, Ash and Nolan had shown us up the last time we’d played basketball and our super-competitive younger brother hated losing.

After Brady left, I grilled myself a steak, threw a handful of “super greens” into a salad bowl and pulled a potato out of the microwave. Although it was still humid, I sat on the patio by the pool. One of the things I loved about this house was the enormous outdoor space. These lots didn’t exist in the city anymore. The trend for people of means was to buy an old house for the location, then turn around and rip the house down and build a McMansion with all the amenities older homes lacked.

I’d been picking away at updating this house for six years, since around the same time I’d gone into partnership with Jase Flint. I saw the irony—living in an undone house and I was a partner in a renovation and restoration business.

After I returned from apprenticing with my grandfather in Sweden, I’d taken a job with one of the big construction firms. At twenty-three I’d had no problem starting at the bottom—setting forms for concrete. Within a month I was “promoted” to the demolition crew. A month later, I filled in on the framing crew and was permanently reassigned there. Once my boss saw my skills were wasted with framing, he switched me to finish carpentry. I lasted a month before the old-guard carpenters complained I rushed through projects—which wasn’t true; I refused to milk the clock like they did. When I found myself back on the concrete forms crew, I quit. There was a difference between paying my dues and being penalized for having a strong work ethic none of the other guys my age had.

Through the grapevine I’d heard that Flint-Co, a subcontractor, was circling the drain. Jase Flint’s foreman had bailed out, leaving Jase with contracts to fulfill and no one to run the projects. I approached Jase for the project manager position. He was up front with me that he needed a partner to replenish his capital, not just a manager.

As one of the eight heirs to the Lund family fortune, I had several trust funds, enabling me to buy in to Flint-Co with a substantial amount of cash. Partnering with Jase was the smartest move I’d ever made. From day one he’d treated me as an equal, renaming the business Flint & Lund.

I worked my ass off. I was proud of helping take Flint & Lund to the next level. Jase respected me. He trusted my judgment. But it’d taken a solid year for our crew to reach those conclusions. I’d neither hidden nor bragged about my family connections, but several guys assumed I’d get tired of “playing” the working stiff and I’d return to my cushy job at Lund Industries.