My Brother's Best Friend - A Second Chance Romance (San Bravado Billionaire's Club Book 8)

by Layla Valentine

  I gasp aloud. “That’s so much money,” I say. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t believe you can do it, it’s just…it’s still so early. You don’t even know how the first gym is going to do yet.”

  Jackson nods. “That’s what I told Tyler,” he says, but before he can continue, we’re interrupted by the waitress.

  We just order an appetizer to share, neither of us feeling particularly hungry anymore, and Jackson gets a beer. When she’s gone, he looks back up at me.

  “Anyway,” he continues, “I told Tyler that it was too soon, and that I wasn’t comfortable with that kind of risk. He didn’t agree, probably because his parents are multi-millionaires and blowing that kind of money is nothing to him.”

  “Wait,” I interrupt, dumbfounded. “Multi-millionaires? God, I knew he came from money, but not like that.”

  It’s almost, in a way, even more infuriating.

  “Yeah,” Jackson says. “He offered to front the whole cost, but that made me feel like I wasn’t a partner at all, because if he’s just going to do what he wants regardless of my opinion, then why am I here?”

  I frown, moving my hand to his arm and squeezing it comfortingly.

  “Because it’s your dream company,” I remind him. “And besides, the whole thing was your idea, wasn’t it?”

  He hesitates. “It was a joint effort,” he admits, “but mostly mine, yeah.”

  I sigh. “So, what are you going to do? Are you going to try to work it out with Tyler? Or are you buying the company? If you need money, I have savings. It’s not much, but you’re welcome to—”

  “Mel, no,” he interrupts softly. “Tyler offered me a buyout price that I couldn’t turn down, and I took it.”

  I feel like someone has kicked me in the stomach, breathless and nauseated.

  “You just let him buy you out?” I cry. “This was your dream, Jackson, and you’re just going to let him buy it off you?”

  Jackson rubs his hands over his face tiredly. I can tell it’s been a long day for him, and I feel bad for yelling, but I just don’t understand how he could let this happen. He’s losing everything for…what?

  “How much did he offer you?” I ask. It’s a tacky question, but I can’t bring myself to care.

  “What? Mel, that’s not—”

  “Jackson,” I implore. “How much?”

  He takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth.

  “He offered me $500,000.”

  I feel my face heat up. “What the hell?” I exclaim, lowering my voice when Jackson shushes me. “That’s the same amount he was willing to take out just for the startup cost!”

  “And it’s still more money than I’d see from VirtuGym for years,” he points out, “possibly ever. It’s a safe bet, and I’ll be able to take it and move on to a different project, once I decide on one.”

  That doesn’t make me feel any better, but Jackson looks more upset by my reaction than he did about the whole story, so I decide to bite my tongue.

  “Well,” I begin, forcing a smile, “as long as you’re happy, I’m sure it’s the right choice.”

  Jackson looks relieved. “Thanks, Mellie,” he says, “I knew you’d understand.”

  I don’t. But, knowing that Jackson’s happiness is the most important thing, I don’t say a word about it through the rest of dinner, nor do I bring it up again as we hug goodbye. However, I can’t leave without just asking him one more question.

  “You’re sure this is what you want?” I ask, looking him in the eyes seriously after we pull away from the hug.

  He hesitates, and for a moment, I’m scared he’s actually going to break down and tell me that no, of course it’s not what he wants, and that we should go find Tyler and buy the company back from him. Not that I would really mind doing that, at this point, but still—it’s not ideal.

  “It’s for the best,” he says, “and I’m happy.”

  He dodged the question, and we both know it. Still, I’m not going to push it any further; he’s had enough fights for one day. The fight I want to pick isn’t with my brother, anyway.

  Chapter 4

  Tyler

  The night after Jackson and I had our falling out, my parents decided that they should take me out to dinner. I’m not sure if it’s an attempt to cheer me up or an attempt to coach me into making a profitable next business move, but the latter is certainly more probable.

  They’re already sitting at our usual table at the most expensive restaurant in town. It’s been months since I’ve joined them here, despite the fact that they visit San Bravado fairly often. I don’t make a habit of going out to dinner with my parents; they like to try to manage my decisions, and while that’s gotten me far in life, I’m 23 now, and it’s time for me to start being more independent.

  From the start, my parents didn’t love the idea of me going into business with Jackson. They said it was a risk, which I acknowledged, and advised against it. At the time, I’d thought that everything would be fine because our friendship was the foundation for working together, but…well, Jackson not trusting me to take accountability for the fall if the loan didn’t work out had hurt.

  I know my fair share about running a business like the one we’re trying to start up. On the West Coast, where storefront signs change as often as the fashion trends, if a business doesn’t manage to get out of the dog-eat-dog world of a city and into somewhere more stable, it’s hard to turn a profit. All I’d been pointing out was the necessity to turn ourselves into a chain, to go national. It would be necessary at some point, so why not start early?

  Anyway, despite still firmly holding to my opinion about my decision to offer Jackson a buyout deal, I’m feeling a bit guilty. Guilt is the gateway to isolation, especially since I’ve spent almost every day with Jackson these last few months, working on plans and marketing strategies. So, feeling a bit dejected—maybe just wanting someone to back me up and tell me that I hadn’t made the wrong move—I accepted when my mother sent a text inviting me, once again, to dinner.

  After months of lying, saying that I was too busy to leave, even when really all we were doing was drinking beer and approving website layouts, I had finally lost my alibi. I’ll have to think of a new one soon, but for now, I’m actually hoping to enjoy dinner with my folks. If nothing else, they know where to get the best steak in California.

  I motion for my mother to sit down as I approach the table, but she stands to hug me anyway.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” she greets, kissing me on both cheeks, careful to hover just above the skin so as not to stain me with her lipstick.

  “Hi, Mom,” I reply, nodding to my father. “Hi, Dad.”

  “We were surprised to hear that you wanted to join us,” my mom remarks. “Is everything all right? Did something happen with that boy you’re working on this project with?”

  I wince. I’ve told her his name hundreds of times, but that’s not a battle I want to pick right now.

  “Can’t a guy just want to get dinner with his folks?” I ask, but my father’s scrutinizing gaze makes me nearly immediately regret it, just like when I’d tried to get away with things as a child. “Fine, yes. Jackson and I had a bit of a falling out.”

  My father looks at me over his glasses. “What do you mean by a bit?” he asks.

  I shift uncomfortably. “I…bought him out of the business,” I admit, and to my surprise, a look of relief washes over him.

  “Oh, if that’s all,” he sighs. “I thought that perhaps you’d gotten yourself into some sort of legal bind.”

  “Well, you did tell him to use our lawyer,” my mother interjects, “but he never listens. Wants to do things his own way.”

  “I’m not in a legal bind,” I remind them. “I’m just taking VirtuGym in a different direction than we originally thought.”

  “How much did you buy him out for?” my father asks.

  I already regret dinner; the filet mignon cannot be worth this.

  “
I offered him 500K,” I say, holding my breath and waiting for them to begin berating me. I’m shocked when my mother shrugs and my father just shakes his head.

  “Well,” he sighs, “it’s more than he’d have gotten from me, but it’s not the worst you could have done.”

  Believe it or not, that’s actually a pretty high compliment coming from him.

  “Gee, thanks, Dad,” I say, and before I can try to change the subject onto something lighter, my phone rings. I glance down at the screen and frown. “I have to take this,” I announce, not waiting for a reply and ducking away from my parents when Mel’s name comes up on the screen.

  My mother shoots me a stern look of warning against answering the phone, but Mel has only got my number for emergencies, and even though I’ve had a fight with Jackson, I can’t just leave Mel alone if something is wrong.

  Chapter 5

  Mel

  The first thing I do when I get into the cab is pull up Tyler’s contact info. I stare at it, my thumb hovering above the call button, wondering if it’s really my place to get involved before deciding that Jackson has nothing to lose, either way—and really, neither do I. My hand is trembling slightly as I dial and wait for him to pick up.

  Just before I chicken out and hang up, Tyler answers.

  “Mel?” he asks, sounding surprised and a bit worried. I remember that Jackson gave him my number with the premise that I’d only call him in an emergency. “Is everything okay?”

  It takes a lot of focus to force myself to not be just a little happy to hear his voice again. It’s been a long week, with no friends in the city and a lot more work than play, and Tyler was pretty much, outside of my brother, the one good thing that’s happened to me since I came here. It’s disappointing to know that’s about to disappear.

  “No,” I snap, “it’s not. How could you do this to Jackson?”

  He’s silent for a moment. “I see you two have talked,” he says, and it reads as dismissive. Did he think I wouldn’t find out?

  “We have,” I say, “and what you’re doing is ridiculous. You’re buying his company—”

  “His share of our company,” he interjects.

  “—for only $500K?” I finish as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “That’s barely anything for someone like you.”

  Tyler sighs. “Does he want more?” he asks. “He seemed happy with the amount, but if he’s changed his mind, I can go higher.”

  “It’s not about the money,” I object, entirely aware that I’m sending a bit of a mixed message. “You’re supposed to be his friend, and you’re screwing him over.”

  Tyler is silent for a long moment. “Look, I’m out to dinner with my parents,” he sighs, “I can’t do this right now.”

  “Then let’s meet in person,” I suggest. “I’ll see you at Café Bravado at nine thirty.”

  I hang up and shove my phone back into my purse without watching it for text messages or for him to call me back. Something tells me he’ll be at the café, and I’ll be waiting.

  Chapter 6

  Tyler

  After I hang up the phone, and my mother seems to have gathered what the conversation was about, she seems a bit more sympathetic.

  “Was that your friend Jackson?” she asks, and I try not to flinch at the word “friend”—because I don’t think that’s what we are, anymore.

  “No,” I reply, turning back to my dinner. “His younger sister. She’s…upset, understandably.”

  “Hardly,” my father interrupts. “You gave that boy a fair deal. He shouldn’t be sending the dogs after your scent.”

  “I don’t think that’s what happened,” I disagree. “They’re close, and if she believes that her brother isn’t being treated fairly, she’ll fight for him. I think it’s sweet.”

  My mother clicks her tongue disdainfully. “If you ask me,” she begins, despite the fact that I have not, in fact, asked her, “I think you gave him more than what his contribution was worth. He now has more money than he’s probably ever seen in his life,” she sniffs.

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes. It’s true that the money is probably much bigger a deal for Jackson to gain than for me to lose, but still, I thought I was being fair, and it’s not my intention to screw him over.

  “You shouldn’t give him a penny more. You’ve been more than fair,” my father agrees.

  There’s no arguing with them, so I choose not to even try, instead just nodding and going back to my steak. It’s made me feel a little better to know that they think I’m being fair, at least. I still don’t know how I feel about it.

  “Tyler, sweetheart,” my mother begins, clearly deciding that it’s time for a change of subject, “your father and I were thinking about going to see a late-night movie at your uncle’s theater. He’s been asking about you, and I’m sure your cousins would love to see you, as well.”

  I shake my head. “No thanks,” I reply, “I’ve got plans.”

  My father’s face turns stern. “If you’re meeting with that girl to talk about the money she’s got no business being involved in—”

  “I’m not,” I interrupt. “I’m meeting with…an investor. Someone who wants to loan me $500,000 in exchange for a stake in the company,” I lie.

  Both my parents look relieved to be talking business once more, and I suppose I got away with my lie, because they seem to approve.

  “Well, that’s grand, son.” My father nods. “That’s the Cross way—setbacks aren’t in our vocabulary; we just get back up again.”

  I nod, taking a long sip of wine and taking a back seat in the conversation as my father launches into a story that he’s told a hundred times before, counting the minutes until I can get out of here and see Mel again.

  I don’t change out of my suit to meet Mel at Café Bravado, even though it’s a pretty low-key place. She’s waiting for me there, sitting at the bar and saving a seat next to her with her purse. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a V-neck, looking like a knock-out, and suddenly, I feel overdressed.

  She doesn’t greet me kindly, but takes her handbag into her lap and motions for me to sit. She’s sipping a drink—some virgin cocktail—and I order a martini, waiting for her to begin the conversation. Mel is tense, her posture tight and coiled, and I don’t want to make any sudden moves that might cause her to strike.

  “So,” she begins finally, after several painful minutes, “I hear that you and Jackson are no longer business partners.”

  It’s a milder opening than I expected, but I know better than to assume that’s all there is to it.

  “That’s right,” I reply calmly. I take a sip from my martini when the bartender sets it in front of me. It’s cheap, mid-shelf liquor, but it’s probably the most expensive one that a bar like this carries.

  “I also heard how much you offered him,” she says.

  There it is. She’s caught up on the number.

  “Like I told you, Mel, if Jackson is unhappy with the price, he can talk to me about it. We can negotiate different terms.”

  “Jackson is fine with it,” she snaps, “but I’m not! Your parents are multi-millionaires, Tyler. Half a million dollars for his dream company is just insulting! Is that all he’s worth to you? Is that all his contributions and ideas are worth?”

  “Of course it’s not—” I reach out to try to lay a calming hand on her shoulder, if just to stop her from making a scene, but she swats me away.

  “Don’t touch me,” she hisses, so I withdraw my hands. “I thought you were a better man than that,” she says, standing up from the bar and slapping a bill on the counter.

  I don’t know why, but I don’t want her to leave. As she turns to go, I reach out and grab her wrist, and she freezes, turning to face me. She jerks her hand away from my grip, but doesn’t walk away.

  “What?” she demands. “What do you think you can say that will make this better?”

  I don’t think. I just stand in front of her, lean down slowly, and cup her face in my han
d. She doesn’t pull away, so I kiss her deeply, dipping her backward a little—just enough that she’s relying on my arms to stay upright. She doesn’t object to this, either, and after an immediate moment of tensing in surprise, I feel her succumb to her passion and start to kiss me back.

  Chapter 7

  Mel

  I want to pull away and slap Tyler right across the face like in the movies—but I don’t do either of those things. The kiss is warm and passionate, desperate, almost a command: stay; don’t leave without finishing this conversation.

  I don’t want to feel like I’m one of the many people in the world that would bend to Tyler’s every whim. I’m not like that, right? This isn’t about money, or power, or who his family is or what kinds of connections he can bring me.

  When he kisses me, I don’t melt into it because he’s rich, and I don’t kiss him back because I’m afraid that he could ruin my future career, though both of those things are true. Tyler’s family seems the type where if you cross them, they could wipe you off the face of the earth, make it like you never existed.

  I’m almost embarrassed to say that the reason I give in to his embrace, the reason I close my eyes and let the rest of the world melt away for just a moment is not, in fact, because of any of those perfectly reasonable explanations.

  I kiss Tyler back because I want to.

  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since our night together. Every time I lie down in the still quiet of my apartment, listening to the noises of the city below me as I try to fall asleep, I picture his warm bed, and waking up next to him in it. I’ve wanted his arms around me again since the first moment that he took me in them.