Step Brother

by Jayna King

  My father shook his head. “I’m sorry, Reed, but I don’t think I remember you.”

  I started to blurt out a comment about how uninvolved my father had actually been in my childhood, but in the spirit of mending fences, I moderated what I was going to say. “Dad, you were pretty busy with your campaigns and keeping voters happy. Mom would remember Reed.”

  Dad looked at me, and I couldn’t tell if his feelings were hurt, but I’d told the truth. There were years when it felt like the most time we ever spent with him was at public appearances.

  “I guess you’re right, Tatum,” he said. “I think I have a lot to make up for in the father department.”

  “That’s what today’s all about,” Tina said, taking my father’s hand. “I wasn’t always the best mother, but those days are over. I know you are both adults now, but better late than never. It bothers both Donald and I that we’re not closer to our children. We want to end that here and now.”

  The last thing I wanted at that moment was to start a trip down memory lane—rehashing past wrongs and listening to my dad promise me things I doubted he’d ever deliver on. Even though I was trying to keep an open mind, part of me didn’t entirely trust him. And I didn’t know what to think of Tina. Reed had been kind of a tough guy in school—he’d been a partier, and I knew his mother had been too. I was having trouble reconciling the young single mother with the calm, somewhat polished woman who sat next to Dad. I was mentally chastising myself for having noticed that her grammar wasn’t quite perfect, but I really couldn’t help it. I was at a loss for words—not the first time that day—and I was grateful when Reed came to the rescue.

  “Mom, I don’t want to drag up old bullshit. Tell me about what you’re up to these days.”

  It was a masterful change of subject. People always loved to talk about themselves, and something told me Tina would be no exception to that rule.

  “Oh, goodness, I’ve been so busy since we got married. It’s been quite a whirlwind. I’m teaching yoga part time over at a new studio a few miles from here, and I’m starting a charitable foundation that provides maternity yoga for poor pregnant women. It’s been a challenge, I can tell you.” Tina was quite animated as she talked, but something about her made it feel like she was reading a script.

  My dad smiled at her. “Yes, Tina’s work with low income”—he emphasized the words “low income”—“women has been very inspiring.”

  Tina nodded to my dad to indicate she understood his correction of her word choice, and I resolved to pay closer attention to what was going on under the surface. Something felt odd to me about their interactions.

  “So where did the two of you meet?” I asked, wanting to keep the focus on the two of them, rather than on Reed and me.

  The newlyweds smiled at one another.

  Dad put a hand on Tina’s leg. “We met in Costa Rica. We were both staying at this little eco resort for one of their yoga retreats. I was solo, and so was Tina, and since most of the people there were couples, we ended up eating dinner together and working together for the partner yoga sessions. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her that she was the one for me. She’s so strong and so inspiring. I think her story is one that many people will be able to relate to.”

  “So when did you start doing yoga, Mom?” Reed asked.

  Tina started describing her emotional and physical journey and how she felt more centered, blah, blah, blah, but I tuned her out. I was hearing undercurrents in the conversation that wouldn’t mean anything to Reed, but that meant everything to me. My father, user-of-people extraordinaire, was planning another political campaign, and Tina was one of the tools he was going to use to garner support from the ordinary person. He didn’t need to say a word, but I could see exactly how it was going to shape up. He’d be seen as the champion of the little person—ordinary Tina, who’d grown up poor … or low income, rather … and who’d made something of herself. It all made sense to me—her charity work, their charming love story—political gold.

  Now I wasn’t callous enough to think that the whole relationship was a sham. My father wasn’t an idiot. I suspected they’d met, been attracted to one another, and maybe recognized kindred spirits in one another. After all, Tina got rich overnight, and my dad got a partner who’d do anything to support his campaign.

  The problem was that I didn’t want any part of the limelight. I’d been there, done that, and had to move to Texas to escape the fallout when things fell apart. Tina was still prattling on, and I was rethinking my decision to move to Las Vegas at all. Sharing a last name with a man running for office, while it might actually help me in my job search, was ultimately not a position I wanted to be in. Of course my dad hadn’t bothered to ask me—or even tell me—but I was pissed.

  Until I looked over at Reed.

  Tina and Dad were gazing deep into one another’s eyes (gag) and Reed—all laid back, dark, and gorgeous—gave me a half smile and wink that gave me goddamn butterflies.

  You are too old to be acting like this—drooling over a guy who’s off limits.

  “So, Dad,” I said, finding an opportunity to interrupt the tale of romantic dinners, partner yoga, and the near-tragedy of a misplaced passport that threatened to delay the wedding and their return home. “What are you up to these days?” I crossed my arms and sat back in the chair, curious about whether he’d be honest about getting back into politics. I was certain I was right. I wasn’t at all certain how he’d handle breaking the news to me.

  Dad studied me, and I could see him taking in my body language and trying to decide how he wanted to answer my question.

  “Well, that’s an interesting question,” he stalled. “Tina and I have discussed a lot of options. My construction company is thriving with all of the new development, and my investments are all healthy, so we’re both kind of looking at what our next chapter will be, how we’ll start our lives together.”

  A lot of words that told me absolutely nothing.

  “But you haven’t told me what you’re up to, honey,” he said, changing the subject just as quickly as I had. “I was so surprised—and so thrilled—when you said you were moving back home to Las Vegas, and we haven’t really had a chance to catch up.”

  “Oh, I question my decision nearly every day,” I answered. “But Vegas is a boomtown for my legal specialty—or at least what I’d like it to be.”

  My dad shook his head. “I know I should know what your specialty is, but I don’t. Fill me in.”

  I noticed that both Reed and my dad looked particularly interested as I told them about the volunteer and paid internships I’d had in the field of labor law. “There are huge numbers of workers in Las Vegas—bartenders, waiters, dancers, sex industry workers—all of whom are typically marginalized and taken advantage of by a host of unfair labor practices. My hope is that I’ll be able to pay the bills by dealing with employment contracts and things like unemployment claims and the like, but what I’d really like to do is work with some of these workers to improve their benefits and working conditions.” I looked around the table to see that all three people were hanging on every word, and I felt a little embarrassed by the passion with which I’d explained my field. “I know I sound like an idealist, but someone’s got to make a difference,” I said, my voice trailing off and hoping that someone would change the subject.

  Once again, Reed saved my ass. “Well, I can’t claim to be saving the world, but my business is doing great. I got clients who wait months for an appointment with me and some of my artists, and we turn people away every day. Inked is the top tattoo place in town that isn’t affiliated with some sellout celebrity.”

  Goddamn, was confidence sexy.

  He kept talking, and I sent a little smile of thanks his way.

  “I’ve had a couple of casinos make me offers to set a studio up in their galleries of shops, and I’ve had a couple of TV shows calling trying to film a segment in the shop, but I’ve basically told ’em to fuck off. My business is go
od, and I’m not gonna kiss anyone’s ass to make it better.”

  “Well, Reed, it’s good to be certain of your path,” my father said, the condescension in his voice nearly completely veiled.

  Tina sat up straighter. “Reed, sweetheart, won’t it be nice to have a stepsister who can help you out with any legal stuff?” She looked from him to me and back again, pleased with her happy little insta-family.

  “I charge family double,” I said with a straight face … until I saw Tina’s face fall. “I’m just kidding,” I said, putting a hand on her arm. “I’ll be happy to take a look at anything Reed wants to show me.” I blushed instantly as the flirtatious double meaning escaped my lips before my brain could censor it.

  “I don’t think that’s an offer I can afford to refuse,” he said, making the Vegas heat feel even hotter.

  “Anyway,” I said, trying to think of a way to shift the conversation. “I met your cook inside. Lunch looks amazing.”

  “Your father managed to steal her from Bobby Flay’s Mesa Grill. She was up for a promotion and didn’t get it. Your father can be quite persuasive when he wants to be.”

  Ugh. The squicky factor was far too high for my taste. “I’m starving. When’s lunch?”

  Tina stood up. “Let me go check.”

  My dad looked at Reed. “So who do you have handling your investments? I have a guy I can send you to if you’d like.”

  “Nah. Thanks, though. I have my money handled just the way I want it.”

  My father knew more than anyone about turning money into more money. “You need to make sure your portfolio is diversified, and there are some very simple investment rules that can help you shape your investments in a way that will have you out of that studio before you’re forty. Let me make you an appointment with my guy. People wait months to see him, but I can get you in anytime.”

  Reed didn’t change his relaxed posture, and I was surprised that he didn’t seem intimidated in the least to be talking to my father about investments. “I’m good. I like my money where I can see it.”

  “The days of stuffing cash under your mattress are over. Have been over for quite some time. It’s neither safe nor profitable.”

  “Thanks for the offer, Donald,” Reed said evenly. “I’ll think it over.”

  “Lunch is ready,” Tina called from the doorway, waving us inside.

  It was a little ridiculous, but we were seated at one end of the enormous dining room table. The china and crystal were polished to perfection, and the lunch was a revelation.

  “I would never have thought of putting lemongrass in chicken salad,” I said, polishing off my sandwich and wishing there were more. “And the smoked chicken—brilliant. I’m glad Garrett’s not here to see me cleaning my plate.”

  Reed shifted slightly in his seat next to mine, and I suspected that it was no accident that his hard, muscled thigh brushed up against mine.

  “Who’s Garrett?” he asked.

  “Oh, you remember Garrett, don’t you? Garrett Fillmore? He went to elementary school with us, and he’s my roommate, at least until I get a job and can get my own place.”

  Reed thought for a minute. “Skinny kid? Glasses?”

  I laughed. “That was him, but you’d never recognize him now. He owns a gym, and he’s my Crossfit Nazi. He’s insane, but he looks amazing. I’ve actually lost weight living with him because the abuse just isn’t worth it if I skip even a single class. He’s relentless.”

  Reed looked sideways at me. “You look just fine to me. If he gives you too hard a time, you just let me know.”

  “Oh, it’s all because he loves me. I know that. And his classes are great. The only trouble is I have a hard time getting out of bed the next day.” I couldn’t quite interpret Reed’s expression as he looked at me, but I wasn’t about to get into a discussion with him that might reveal to our parents that we knew each other slightly better than we’d let on.

  As the dishes were cleared, Tina looked at my dad. “Should we tell them? About the trip?”

  Dad nodded to her.

  “So Donald and I were thinking that it would be great for us to all take a trip together, you know, get to know one another better? Donald’s investment broker has a house in Tahoe, and the skiing there’s supposed to be just fabulous.”

  Reed gave his mother a strange look, and I realized that even though I’d seen him naked—and what a glorious sight that was—I didn’t actually know him very well. His face was expressive, but it didn’t really tell me what was going on inside his head.

  Tina continued to talk. “So Lee said he’d let Donald and I use the house over the holidays if we wanted to.”

  She described the house’s amenities and the area activities, but I could only half listen because Reed was doing a very effective job of completely distracting me. He slid his hand over to cover my knee, and very slowly slid one finger up to trace the edge of my skirt’s hem. I couldn’t think straight, and I had no idea what Tina was saying, even though I was looking at her and smiling and nodding.

  I was startled out of my reverie—very steamy thoughts about Reed, a bed, and a startling absence of clothes—by Tina’s exclamation.

  “Well, it’s all settled, then! We’ll tell Lee that we’ll take the house from Christmas to New Year’s, and we’ll spend it together as a family.”

  “Wait, what?” I sputtered.

  Dad looked at me. “We’re all going to Tahoe for the holidays. It’ll be great. We haven’t been skiing together since we went to Vail when you were in middle school.”

  Reed lifted the hem of my skirt and slid his hand higher on my thigh. I wanted him to stop, but I also wanted to tear his clothes off and take him to bed.

  I had problems. Big ones.

  I pushed my chair back from the table and stood up. “I gotta go. Thanks for the lunch. It was nice to meet you, Tina, and it was good to see you, Dad.” I looked down at Reed, who was silently laughing. “Um, Reed. I guess I’ll … um … see you around.”

  For a girl who always knew what to say, I felt remarkably tongue-tied as I practically ran out of the dining room.

  4 -- Reed

  I was trying to concentrate on the ink, but visions of a hot blonde kept intruding, distracting me from the shading I was doing along the jawline of a skull. “I gotta take a break,” I said, putting down my gun.

  Butch looked over at me. “That’s usually my line, man. What’s on your mind?”

  We hadn’t talked a whole lot when he arrived for his appointment. The afternoon had been so unbelievably overwhelming that I really had no fucking idea where to begin. My mom, my dad, her new husband, and my smokin’ hot sister. Stepsister, that is. Big difference, especially because I couldn’t think about anything but taking Tatum back to bed.

  “You just wouldn’t believe the day I had. You cool to go out for a couple of drinks after I finish?”

  “Yeah. Marla’s gonna let me go, but I can’t stay too late.”

  “Remind me never to get married.”

  “Yeah, it’s awful. A hot wife I get to sleep with every night. Someone to help out around the house. Fuckin’ prison, man.”

  “I know, I know,” I said with a smile. “Marla’s one of the good ones.”

  “She is. And for some stupid reason she loves you.”

  “Whatever. It’s just ’cause I sign her paycheck.”

  “You know that’s not the truth.”

  I stood up and stretched. “I know. Look, man, I’m really not feeling it tonight. Can we just clean you up and head out? I’ll owe you a session on the house.”

  “As long as you’ll make it a long one, you’ve got a deal. I want to get this sleeve finished and have you start on my calf next.”

  “You’re going to look great with shaved legs, Butch.”

  “Shut the fuck up. Let’s go. You’re buying the first round.”

  I cleaned Butch up and we headed to my favorite bar—a little dive off the Strip. I ordered us a round of beers and w
e sat at a table in the corner, where we could watch our local pool sharks hustling tourists for easy money. One way or another tourism boosted the local economy.

  “So talk, man. I’m on borrowed time,” Butch said, swilling down about half of his beer.

  “What’s the hurry?”

  He looked at me like a little kid with a secret. “You have to promise not to tell Marla.”

  “You have an appointment with an escort?”

  He hit me on the upper arm, hard. “No, man. Seriously. You can’t tell her. I promised I’d let her tell you, and she wants to wait a while to let everyone know.”

  “Man, just tell me. I won’t say anything.”

  “She’s knocked up. We have an appointment for a sonogram in the morning.” He looked like he’d just won the lottery or something.

  “Well, shit,” I said, pretending to be upset. “There goes my office manager.”

  “Seriously? That’s all you have to say?”

  I laughed. “Naw, man. Congratulations. That’s awesome news.”

  “You can’t tell her I told you, though. She hasn’t even told her parents yet. She wants to wait until after the first trimester.”

  “Silent as the grave,” I said.

  “So what’s going on with you?” Butch asked.

  “You can’t even imagine. So I had lunch with my mom today. I hadn’t seen her in a long time, and she’s decided that she wants to make up for having been a pretty shitty parent, all things considered. She invited me to lunch and said she had some kind of surprise for me.”

  “Was she the same old Tina I’ve heard stories about?”

  “No, and that’s part of the weirdness of the day.” I realized I had left out one of the critical parts of the story. “But first … last night. I was over at the Hard Rock, and this chick I knew from elementary school walked in. We were pretty good friends when we were little. She was a cool chick. Anyway, when she was in high school, her dad—he was on the city council—got arrested for accepting a bribe or something and got sent to prison. She went to live with her mom in Texas, and now—just recently—she’s moved back to Vegas. Graduated from law school and is looking for a job.”