As Good as New

by Jennifer Dawson

  * * *

  Evan’s lunch with his brothers went smoothly until Shane asked him in that nonchalant way he had, “Have you given any thought to your plans?”

  Evan stiffened and pushed his plate away. “Plans?”

  Shane wrapped his hand around the dingy off-white coffee cup. “You’re going to need to do something with your time. I was curious if you’d thought about it.”

  “Nope.” Evan gritted his teeth and looked out the window onto the sidewalk, watching the people pass them by. Of course he’d thought of it, only to come up with absolutely nothing.

  His future was a blank, empty space. He didn’t have any idea what to do with the rest of his life. All he wanted to do was play ball.

  Ironically, the more he exercised and the stronger he became, the more he missed the game that would never be within his reach again. And the worst thing was, his injury didn’t affect him physically. It’s not like he’d blown out his knee and it ached every time he played, reminding him he was too banged up to do any good on the field. No, he felt fine, conditioned even. It’s why he took up binge drinking to begin with, and sometimes, late at night when he couldn’t sleep, he wanted to return to that numb place he’d been.

  Only something stopped him from sinking back into that darkness.

  James rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses before settling them back on his face. “He has money and time, he’ll figure it out.”

  That was his middle brother, the peacekeeper.

  It was true. Technically, if he invested properly, Evan didn’t have to work another day in his life. He wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly what Shane expected of him, but despite what everyone thought, Evan wasn’t really cut out to be a slacker. He might have played hard off the field, but he’d worked his ass off for the game. It had been his one primary focus since the day his dad died, and he didn’t have a clue where to direct his energy now that it was gone.

  “I just don’t think it’s healthy for him to sit around,” Shane said.

  Evan clenched his hands. “I’m not your responsibility.”

  Shane’s brow furrowed. “I’m just trying to help.”

  “Well, stop,” Evan said.

  “We’re your family,” Shane said, tone irritated. “Maybe there’s something you’d be interested in at the company.”

  James winced and shook his head. “You just don’t know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?”

  Shane’s brow furrowed. “What? It’s a suggestion.”

  Evan had had enough. “I don’t need your charity, Shane. It’s not your responsibility to bail me out. I made fifteen million dollars last year.”

  James held up his hands. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that.”

  “The hell he didn’t,” Evan said, turning a furious glare at his oldest brother. “Can’t you just turn it off? Even for a second? I know you’re the family savior and all, but you forget I made my own way. I owe you nothing. Now back the hell off.”

  Shane’s expression darkened like a Chicago storm. “Why can’t I ever say anything to you without you taking it the wrong way?”

  “Because you can’t ever say anything without being a patronizing asshole.”

  James’s brows furrowed over his glasses. “Let’s all calm down. You’re both overreacting.”

  Shane waved a hand over Evan as though disgusted. “You’ve been spending your days wasted and depressed. I’m only suggesting you need a little purpose.”

  Evan took a deep breath and exhaled. These conversations never went well, and if he didn’t put an end to it, things would degenerate further. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his money. “I’ve got to go.”

  James shook his head. “No, don’t.”

  Evan put a hundred-dollar bill on the table, just to really hone in on the point that he wasn’t even close to destitute, and got up. “I’ll see you later.”

  Then he left.

  To go sit in his fucking apartment and do nothing but stare at the wall and contemplate his empty future.

  Chapter Nine

  James showed up at Evan’s house five hours later, a bag of takeout Chinese food in hand.

  Evan wasn’t in the mood to talk, and if it had been Shane he would have thrown him out, but he couldn’t turn James away. He sighed. “What are you doing here?”

  James raised the bag. “I thought you could use some company.”

  “Not particularly.” Evan stood back and let him in.

  James moved with that purposeful stride he had, walking into Evan’s kitchen and making himself at home. He pulled out an Xbox One game from another bag he carried. “I brought the new Grand Theft Auto.”

  Evan couldn’t help but smile. This is why nobody kicked Jimmy out. He always seemed to understand just what was needed. Evan moved to sit down on his couch, grabbing the remote. “I’ve been meaning to pick that up.”

  “Now you don’t have to.” James moved around the kitchen, the sound of clattering plates and silverware being pulled out of the cabinets. “Beer?”

  Evan scoffed. “What? You don’t think I’m a raving alcoholic like our brother?”

  There was no response, and a minute later James sat down and held out a plate filled with Evan’s favorite, spicy shredded beef, before putting down two bottles on the table next to Evan’s knees. “No, I don’t. And neither does he.”

  Evan took the plate, not hungry. “Thanks.”

  They watched the action movie Evan had been mindlessly staring at before James arrived, not saying anything as they ate. When they were done, they abandoned their dinners and turned their attention to serious gaming.

  An hour later Evan felt considerably more human and asked, “Where’s Gracie?”

  “At the bakery.” James didn’t take his eye off the game. “Late night construction crew.”

  “You’re going to leave her alone with a bunch of guys?”

  James laughed. “She’s a grown woman, who, in case you haven’t noticed, has most men eating out of the palm of her hand. She’s more than capable of handling herself.”

  On the screen, Evan beat some guy over the head with a bat. “Good point.”

  “She had a late lunch with Penelope, so she’s making up for some lost time after I said I was headed here.”

  At the sound of Penelope’s name, Evan had to resist the urge to react. He clenched his jaw until it ached to keep from asking. After all these years, he should be an expert at repressing his desire for news about her, but it was a habit that refused to die, and had only become worse since the distance between them was becoming impossible to resurrect. He changed the subject. “You don’t have to babysit me. I’m fine.”

  James paused the game and then cocked a brow at Evan. “Let’s make something clear. I’m not babysitting you. Although I am not going to pretend you don’t worry me.”

  Evan clenched his hand into a fist. “Do you know how tiring it is to have everyone constantly worrying about you?”

  “Yeah, I do,” James said, tone matter-of-fact. “I spent my childhood that way.”

  Contrite, Evan relaxed his hand. “Right.”

  “My only advice is stop giving them a reason, and it gets better.”

  Evan shook his head. “You don’t think I want to?”

  James shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”

  James wasn’t supposed to take sides, but that’s sure as hell what it felt like. “So you think Shane is right?”

  James shook his head. “No, I think you’re both wrong, and I think you’re too alike for your own good.”

  Evan’s mouth fell open. “We are nothing alike.”

  James laughed, and leaned back on the couch. “You are both stubborn, never know when to quit, and can’t change directions once you start moving. It’s why you fight. Neither of you is capable of stopping, even when you know you should. You just keep battering on, pushing your way through the argument, and thinking that will get you what you want.”

&
nbsp; Evan didn’t want to think about the truth in the point his brother was making, so he turned back to the game and pushed the play button.

  James sighed. “You’ve got to stop being angry at him for doing what comes naturally.”

  Evan didn’t speak for a bit, but then he cleared his throat and admitted the truth, because with James he could. “It was easier before, when I had something I excelled at to compete with.”

  “That’s what you’ve never understood about him, and where you are different.” James never took his eyes off the screen. “Unlike you, he doesn’t view you as competition. He doesn’t want to beat you. All he wants, all he’s ever wanted, is for you to be happy.”

  Evan shot a guy in the face. “He can’t make me happy.”

  “No, he can’t. And it eats at him. You have to remember what it was like for him. He was robbed of everything you had handed to you. While you were off at college winning football games, partying, and screwing cheerleaders, he was here working three jobs.”

  Evan was well aware what Shane sacrificed for him, for them all, but how long did he have to live in the shadow of it? “I know that.”

  “I know you do, but what you don’t seem to get is his motivation. He didn’t do it to lord it over you, he did it so none of us would be desolate again, and now you are, and he can’t fix it and he feels like he failed you.”

  “I have plenty of money.”

  James sighed. “There’s more than one type of desolation.”

  A sudden tightness squeezed in Evan’s chest. “I’m better than I was, but it’s going to take some time.”

  James paused the game and clapped him on the back. “I know. And that’s what I told him.”

  Evan raised a brow. “So you’re making the rounds?”

  James shrugged. “Sometimes you both need a little sense talked into you.”

  Evan gave a sharp nod. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Good.” James paused and toyed with his game controller for a couple of seconds. “Do you want to talk about it? What you’re going to do next?”

  “No.” The word harsher than he intended. He blew out a breath and looked past the giant television screen to the wall beyond. Maybe he did need to talk to someone. And James, who never judged him, would be the best person. “I know I can’t do nothing for the rest of my life, but the future is like a blank slate in front of me. One big dead end.”

  “Have you talked to your agent about offers? Maybe that will strike an interest?”

  Evan cringed. “Modeling underwear for Calvin Klein is hardly a career.”

  James chuckled. “I guess in your thirties that gets embarrassing.”

  “Exactly.” With his looks, Evan had had plenty of offers roll in over the years, but he’d never taken them. He just couldn’t get worked up about posing in front of a camera all oiled up, or hawking razors in some cheesy television commercial.

  “What about broadcasting?” James asked.

  “Hell, no.” Evan glared at his middle brother. That was even worse than modeling.

  James held up his hands. “All right, moving on. How about coaching?”

  That was one thing Evan had thought about as a maybe, something he’d thought about for the future, for that day when he retired. On his terms.

  But he didn’t know if he could do it. Wasn’t sure he was ready to be on the sidelines of the game he loved, watching his friends and colleagues still run out onto the field while he stayed behind. How could he be a good coach, filled with resentment for the guys he was supposed to mentor and push to excel? He shook his head. “I don’t think I can.”

  James nodded, not seeming inclined to question, which Evan appreciated. Shane would try and talk him into it because it was the logical solution for someone like him. James scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Maybe we need to go back to basics. What did you want to be when you grew up?”

  Evan raised a brow. “A football player.”

  James’s brow furrowed. “You never had a backup plan?”

  Evan picked up his beer and took a sip. “Nope.”

  James frowned. “Maybe we need a late-night run to clear our minds.”

  Running after beer and Chinese food was the last thing Evan wanted to do, but he sighed. “All right, I’ll go get changed.”

  * * *

  As Penelope waited for the elevator, she read an e-mail from her project director, Aaron, regarding the current issues report for one of their larger commercial building projects. She worried her bottom lip, scrolling through the list and making a note to set up a one-on-one meeting with him. Aaron had some issues with an alderman opposed to the development. Penelope thought it might be time to intervene but wanted to speak with him first. She tapped her task icon and started making notes on what she needed to follow up on when the elevator finally dinged.

  The doors slid open and she glanced up from the tablet, already taking a step inside, only to freeze when her gaze met Evan’s.

  Unable to hide her surprise, she blurted, “What are you doing here?”

  As there was nobody in the elevator, Evan’s gaze raked over her, blatant and direct. “I came to talk to Shane.”

  “Why?” He was the last person she wanted to see, and her rude tone voiced her displeasure. How could she stop thinking about him if she couldn’t escape him?

  The doors started to slide closed. He jabbed at a button, and they sprang back open. He cocked a brow and said in a voice full of challenge, “Are you getting on?”

  Heart beating far too fast, she swallowed and stepped on. She couldn’t let him see her run—that would give him far too much power.

  A second later she was enclosed in the small box and he stood way too close to her. His large frame took up all the available space, and she tried to ignore the heat of him.

  Tension was like a vise around her throat, making her tongue-tied. Which irritated her. She cleared her throat. “It seems I can’t escape you.”

  She could feel him watching her, could picture his expression exactly in her mind. She stared at the floor numbers as each one lit up and then dimmed. As they made the climb to the top floor, the location of Shane’s and her offices, sex filled the air, pulsing around them, making her ache.

  “Maybe fate doesn’t want you to escape me, Penelope.” The words low and gruff.

  She couldn’t resist the pull and shifted her attention to him. “I doubt that.”

  Their gazes locked.

  “Our lives are intertwined. They always have been.” Without football taking up all his time, he was around more than he’d been since high school.

  Penelope supposed she’d better start getting used to it. This weekend being a case in point. With the benefit on Saturday, Mitch and Maddie were coming to town, and Cecilia was already organizing a dinner that night. She just had to figure out how to distance herself. She’d done it once, she could do it again. Starting with right now. In a polite tone she asked, “Will you be at Shane and Cecilia’s on Friday?”

  His gaze dipped to her mouth and her breath hitched. “Yep.”

  Okay, so she’d see him all weekend. So what? This wasn’t any different than before.

  The elevator came to a halt and Penelope jerked forward. Evan’s hand shot out to steady her, and his palm about seared her through her blouse. She pulled away just as the doors slid open and two women in their twenties stood there, eyes going wide when they spotted Evan.

  One of them blushed and the other let out a little gasp before they entered the car.

  Neither acknowledged Penelope’s existence.

  God help her.

  There was about five seconds of silence when the girls managed to contain themselves before one poked the other in the ribs and tilted her head in Evan’s direction. The brunette, clearly the bolder of the two, licked her lips and said, “Are you, like, Evan Donovan?”

  Evan shrugged. “That’s the rumor.”

  Penelope rolled her eyes.

  They giggled as Penelope tried to
place them. Given the floor they’d gotten on and their young ages, she suspected they were interns of some type.

  The redhead beamed at Evan and fluttered her lashes. “I heard you were Mr. Donovan’s brother, but I never dreamed I’d actually see you.”

  Penelope had developed the internship program in conjunction with some of the local universities as a way to attract women into the predominantly male world of commercial real estate. So, sadly, she had no one to blame for the fawning but herself.

  Evan smiled, but didn’t say anything else.

  The brunette puffed out her bottom lip. “I wish I had paper to get your autograph.”

  Some devil took up residence inside her and Penelope said in a dry, deadpan tone, “He’s on his way to Mr. Donovan’s office right now. If you hurry, maybe you’ll be able to catch him before he leaves.” She flashed Evan a brilliant smile. “I know how much you love signing autographs. He adores his fans, so make sure to bring your friends.”

  Evan’s gaze narrowed.

  The redhead squeaked. “Oh my God, like, really?”

  “Of course he wouldn’t mind. Would you?” Penelope said sweetly, batting her lashes. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint your brother’s employees.”

  He glared at her, full of menace, but then his expression filled with calculation and Penelope knew she was about to get burned. “I don’t want them to lose any valuable work time searching for me.”

  “We don’t mind,” the two girls clamored in unison, oblivious to the tension between Evan and Penelope.

  “No, I wouldn’t dream of it.” He flashed them a smile so brilliant Penelope was surprised it didn’t twinkle and blind them, before turning to her. “I know how you hate inefficiency and I don’t want to be disruptive. Why don’t you escort me to their desks personally?”

  “I don’t see how that’s productive.” Penelope gripped the edge of her iPad harder.

  His gaze narrowed. “I’m just a dumb jock. I’ll get lost.”

  The doors opened and the girls turned pleading eyes on hers. “Please?”

  “Do you really want groups of employees traipsing up to the top floor? Where Shane works?” Evan punched the door open button and held it. “What’s it going to be, Pen? I’d hate to disappoint the fans.”