by Bru Baker
“Are you harassing my wife again, maninho?”
Mateus grinned at him. With Bree and Duarte there, the orchard already felt more like home than Portugal. Now he just had to find a way to stay. “Always.”
Chapter Three
“NOT the black one. It makes you look like a funeral director.”
Crawford huffed but put the suit back in the closet. “Funeral directors don’t wear Calvin Klein.”
His nephew stuck his tongue out. “Says you.”
Crawford pointed a hanger at him. “Don’t even pretend you’re not going to let yourself back in here next week and borrow it for your homecoming dance. You’re footing the dry cleaning bill, bud. Do not put it back in my closet dirty.”
Brandon rolled his eyes, but Crawford noted the distinct lack of protest. Hard to believe his nephew was big enough to borrow Crawford’s clothes. Hell, at the rate he was growing, he’d be outgrowing them soon.
“And you may not borrow my shoes. Have your dad get you a pair of Ferragamos with all the money he’s saving on not buying you a new suit for the dance.”
Crawford’s brother Adam could more than afford the shoes and the suit, but Brandon had an independent streak a mile wide. It had gotten worse once he’d turned fifteen. Lately Crawford was about the only adult he’d deign to talk to, and Crawford strongly suspected it was only because Brandon didn’t really view him as responsible enough to be a real adult.
That could have a lot to do with the living room full of gaming equipment or the pantry full of sugary cereals. Though to be fair, neither of those were for Crawford. Brandon’s mom had been deployed overseas around the same time Davis had left Crawford, and Crawford had thrown himself into being the absolute best uncle possible. It had helped Adam and Brandon get through their own rough patch and had served as a decent enough distraction for Crawford too. Even if it did mean he spent obscene amounts of money at the grocery store each week so Brandon would have food to eat when he came over to spend hours playing video games. Crawford was glad he’d become a safe place for Brandon, even now that his mom was back and he didn’t have to spend a few nights a week at Crawford’s out of necessity.
Brandon yanked the brown socks out of Crawford’s hands and tossed a pair of black ones into his suitcase instead. “How long you gonna be gone this time?”
“I’m hoping to wrap it up in a week. Two weeks tops.” He poked Brandon in the stomach and grabbed the purloined socks when the ticklish teen let out a bark of surprised laughter and dropped them.
Brandon scowled when Crawford threw them into the suitcase. “Those don’t match anything.”
“They’re one of about four pairs I have that don’t have any holes in them, so they’re going.”
“I could come with you,” Brandon said. He perched on the edge of the bed, his expression guarded. “I’ve never been to Canada.”
“And unless you’ve been moonlighting as an international man of mystery, you don’t have the passport that’s required to cross the border.”
Brandon’s shoulders slumped, and Crawford kept half an eye on him as he tucked a pair of freshly shined shoes into a canvas bag so he could pack them. “Some reason you suddenly want to travel?”
“I asked Becca Johnson to the homecoming dance, and she said she’d have to get back to me, which basically means she’s using me as her backup date in case Chris Atkins doesn’t ask her,” he said with a dejected sigh.
Crawford winced. This was exactly why he’d sworn off relationships. Everyone had an agenda, and it was rarely in anyone’s best interest but their own. “Ouch. You don’t have to wait for her to make up her mind, you know. You could ask someone else.”
Brandon threw him a look that could peel paint. “And then later when he doesn’t ask her—because he won’t; he’s going with some upperclassman—then I’ll be the jerk. She’ll spend the dance in the bathroom crying with her friends, and no one will want to date me because I’ll come out of it looking like a dick.”
Crawford bit back a smile, knowing Brandon would see it as mocking and not amused. His nephew seemed to have things figured out pretty well for a fifteen-year-old. Hell, he had a better grasp of relationship dynamics now than Crawford had at thirty. Maybe if he’d had half of Brandon’s insight, he wouldn’t have fallen for a snake charmer like Davis.
“I don’t know what to tell you, man. Dating sucks.”
Brandon rolled his eyes. “Like I’d ask you for advice about dating.”
Someone rapped against the doorframe, knuckles beating out a familiar refrain. Crawford and Adam had been using the same secret knock since before puberty, not that it was necessary here. No one but Adam and Brandon had a key.
“You know what they say, Bran,” Adam said, quirking an eyebrow. “Those who can’t do, teach.”
“Harsh, Dad,” Brandon said with a grin. “True, but harsh.”
Crawford shook his head ruefully. “I don’t know why I even try with you two.”
Adam shrugged. “Because no one else would watch Beelzebub for you?”
The cat was a cranky old thing. Crawford said he was just waiting for it to die, but truth be told he loved the stupid, senile thing. “Fair enough.”
Brandon dug through the clothes tossed on the bed and unearthed the old tabby. “I’ve got band practice all week because we’re in the homecoming parade. Can we bring Bub to our house so I don’t have to come over late at night? He doesn’t like sleeping alone, anyway.”
Beelzebub stretched and yawned at the attention, then fell back to sleep.
“Yeah, that’s fine. It’s probably better since I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
Adam cleared his throat, and Brandon heaved a sigh. “Things are about to get boring,” he said. He grabbed the cat. “Bub and I will be in the living room playing Call of Duty.”
Crawford smelled a setup. He never should have told Adam that Davis would be there. He clenched his jaw and kept layering clothes into his suitcase, hoping that maybe if he didn’t make eye contact with his brother, Adam would go away. Kind of like the advice his parents had always given him about panhandlers.
“It’s not like you not to know when an audit will wrap up.”
No such luck on the ignoring front, apparently. Crawford balled up a pair of clean boxers with more vehemence than necessary and tucked them into the collar of one of his shirts to help it keep its shape.
“It’s a complicated one.”
“Because of the hotel’s problems or because of Davis?” Adam picked up a suit coat from the bed and turned it inside out, then tucked one sleeve into the other so it wouldn’t wrinkle. At least he was a helpful meddler.
He also had a nearly perfect bullshit meter when it came to Crawford, so Crawford knew better than to try to lie. “Mostly Davis. I’m pretty sure the general manager is in over his head. From what I can tell, they’re comping too many things to try to keep traffic up, and the spa is really hurting. I’ll probably end up outsourcing that. Should be fairly cut-and-dried on the audit end.”
Adam helped him pack in silence, which was almost worse than a barrage of questions. It meant he was trying to figure out how to say something delicately, and that was never a good thing.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Send someone else. You do that all the time.”
Crawford blew out a breath. “Can’t.”
“This isn’t some ploy to win Davis back, is it? Because—”
Crawford threw the bottle of shampoo in his hand at his brother, catching him square in the chest. “No! I didn’t get a say in this. I told George I didn’t want to go, and he said he’d fire me if I didn’t.”
Adam checked the cap on the shampoo and lobbed it into the open toiletry bag on the bed. “Seriously? He actually said that?”
“It was heavily implied.”
“That’s discrimination. I could have a brief on his desk by tomorrow morning.”
Adam was speaking as a sympathetic brother, not as a
n attorney. Besides, Adam specialized in tax law. This was hardly his area.
Crawford couldn’t help himself. The sight of his brother so obviously outraged on his behalf made him smile. He shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. It’s really not. I have no doubt he’d do this to a heterosexual divorced couple if he thought it would help the bottom line. He’s a ruthless asshole, but not a homophobic one.”
Adam scowled. “You’re one of the highest-ranking schmucks there, aren’t you? If you say you don’t want to go somewhere, you shouldn’t have to go.”
Crawford rolled up a T-shirt he’d stolen from Adam in college and tucked it into the suitcase before his brother could get a good look at it. It was paper thin from repeated washings and hands down the most comfortable sleep shirt he had. “I am, but unfortunately one of the few schmucks who outranks me is the one telling me I have to go.” He shrugged, hoping it came off cheeky instead of defeated. “I probably could draw a line in the sand and refuse. I doubt George would actually fire me over it. But it would cause a lot of drama, and that’s just not worth it.”
“More drama than an audience with the queen himself?”
Crawford huffed humorlessly. “If Davis heard you call him a queen, he’d lay you out flat.”
“If the tiara fits,” Adam muttered. “Seriously, though, are you going to be okay? You haven’t seen him since the divorce went through, have you?”
“No, but we’ve been on a few conference calls together. I can manage. I’m good at my job, Adam. You don’t make it this far in the hospitality world without having a very convincing shit-eating smile.”
“Kill him with kindness while you mentally plot his death?”
“More like divide the work up between us in a way that keeps us apart, and politely but studiously ignore him whenever possible.” It wasn’t the most mature plan, but it was all Crawford had been able to come up with.
He and Davis both had a knack for problem-solving and putting other people at ease, which were essential skills for the kind of troubleshooting jobs they often did. And George had been right when he’d said the hotel needed someone with Davis’s skill set. It had a failing spa, much like the one Davis had revived in the Paris flagship hotel. It was Crawford’s involvement that was less than necessary, and he fully intended to use Davis’s gigantic ego to his own advantage.
Adam was less than impressed. “So you’re going to let him walk all over you? How novel.”
“I am going to do whatever I have to do to get through the next two weeks,” Crawford said through gritted teeth.
“And if George decides to make you two a regular team? What then?”
Then he’d quit. It was something he’d daydreamed about with alarming frequency, and not just since George had dropped the Davis bomb. The truth was, Crawford hadn’t been happy for a while. Maybe it was time to test the waters somewhere else. He’d love a job that gave him more face time with guests. The corporate rigmarole was tedious, and lately the payoffs just hadn’t been worth it. He’d always intended to start a little inn of his own when he could afford it, and thanks to the prenup Adam had bullied him into getting when he’d married Davis, he could afford it. The only thing he’d walked away from that marriage with had been the money he’d brought into it—it certainly hadn’t been his pride.
“George needs Davis in Europe, and he needs me here. This won’t become a regular thing. We’re both too essential to have us teaming up very often. This is just a special case, since it’s Canada’s flagship hotel.”
Adam clucked his tongue. “One, that sounded incredibly egotistical. And two, George will do whatever’s best for his bottom line, and if that’s putting you two together, then he will.”
Although they’d only met a handful of times, there was no love lost between Adam and George. He was convinced George was taking advantage of Crawford, and lately Crawford was inclined to agree. It felt more like he was working just for George instead of the company, but the only recourse he had was going to the board, and that wasn’t something Crawford wanted to get into. He hated confrontation, which was a strange thing to dislike for someone who’d chosen mediation and management auditing as a career, but there it was. He was great at advocating for the company or their customers, just not great at advocating for himself.
“You need a new job. My firm—”
Crawford cut his brother off with a sour look. Adam had been trying to get him to make the change to law for years, but it wasn’t something that interested him. He was a licensed mediator, but that wasn’t the part of his job he really enjoyed. He much preferred working with people before things got to the point where legal action was being threatened. The conflict thing again.
“Okay, fine. But there are firms out there where you’d fit in well, you know. Hell, if you really want to help people, go back and get your masters in social work. God knows the state could use some people with good heads on their shoulders.”
That didn’t appeal either, though it was closer to what he wanted to do than working in some stuffy law firm. “I don’t want to go back to school. I want to finish packing so I can get to bed at a decent time because my flight leaves at ridiculous o’clock, and I’d like to at least be well rested as I head into hell.”
“At least think about it,” Adam said, holding up his hands. “Maybe not social work, but what about another hotel chain? Couldn’t you do what you do somewhere else?”
Crawford raised an eyebrow. “Looking to get rid of me?”
Adam sighed. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, but yeah, kind of. Karen is getting a promotion. They’re moving her to Okinawa, and Brandon and I are going with her.”
Crawford swallowed thickly. Moving? They were the only people in Los Angeles that Crawford cared anything about. Hell, he’d taken the promotion to the corporate office mostly because it meant he’d get to live near them. Crawford had never had many friends outside of work, and the divorce had alienated him from most of them. If Karen moved and took Brandon and Adam with her when she deployed, he’d literally have nothing left here.
“That’s—” Crawford groped for words and came up short. He wanted to be happy for them, and he knew he would be, later. It must be a hell of a promotion to take them to Japan, and it meant Karen was moving up the ranks like she’d always worked so hard to do. “—sudden.”
Adam sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. The lines on his face were getting worse every year, and even though Adam jokingly called them laugh lines, Crawford knew it was the worry he felt every time Karen was deployed etched there. Crawford hoped this promotion meant Karen would be in a more administrative role and not shipping out every few months for somewhere dangerous where Adam and Brandon couldn’t follow.
“It’s not that sudden. She’s been up for one for a few years, but they finally got their heads out of their asses and promoted her. I’m leaving my firm, but there’s a job waiting for me in Okinawa. And there’s a great school for Brandon.”
God. Here he was thinking about how terrible this was for him; meanwhile Brandon was going to have to be uprooted from all his friends and plopped down in a high school with a bunch of strangers. Way to be selfish, Crawford. “Does he know?”
“Yeah. I asked him not to tell you yet. He’s pretty excited, actually. He knows a few kids there already, I guess. He’s a good egg. He doesn’t really care about this girl turning him down. He’s just being dramatic.” Adam rolled his eyes. “I wonder who he gets that from?”
Crawford’s chest was heavy, but he smiled anyway and took the bait. “Surely you’re not referring to me? I’m hardly what anyone would call a drama queen.”
Adam tossed a balled-up shirt at him. “You may not be the queen, but you’re definitely in the court.”
The tight ball in Crawford’s chest eased a little at the familiar jab. Things didn’t have to change because Adam was moving. And it wouldn’t be forever. No one in the Navy ever stayed in Japan after retirement, did they? They’d be
back. Probably in a few years. It wasn’t the end of the world. Besides, he’d always wanted to visit Japan. Chatham-Thompson didn’t have any properties there, so he’d never been, despite his globe-trotting job.
“You’ve always been the one taken to flights of fancy and dramatics, not me,” he said.
Adam grinned. “You’re the one who decided Aunt Edna was a zombie when you were six.”
“Her skin was always cold, and she smelled like death!”
“She smelled like Bengay.”
“Same difference.” Crawford dropped what he’d been holding and hauled Adam in for a hug. “I’m happy for you. You’re happy, right? You seem happy.”
Adam’s face lit up. “I am. I’m just so damn relieved she’s heading somewhere we can go with her. You have no idea how hard it is to be left behind like that.”
Crawford’s smile went tight, and Adam immediately backpedaled. “I mean—”
“No, you’re right. I don’t. It must be so hard for you and Brandon knowing she’s in danger all the time. I don’t know how you two do it. You’re awesome. I couldn’t do what you do. I can’t imagine.”
Adam looked stricken. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Crawford gave his brother another hug and released him. “No, I know. I know. But Davis leaving me isn’t even in the same realm as what you guys go through every time Karen ships out. I’m glad you get to go with her this time.”
He shot Adam a look, hoping it came off as playful and not wounded, since he still felt pretty raw. Not that he wanted Adam to know that. “I mean, unless she tells you sometime in the next week or so that she doesn’t want you to come because she’s tired of you and you’ve served your purpose. And then starts dating someone half your age when she gets to Okinawa. If that happens, then yes. I’ll know exactly what you’re feeling.”
Adam snorted out a laugh. “You’re awful. And I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for. And I am a little awful. It’s what makes life fun.” And it would be all he had to make life fun once Adam left. “When are you moving?”
