Exactly. The only reason I can think of for my brother’s sudden call is Dad.

I’ve already put up with as much shit from that man tonight as I plan to. And I can’t imagine why the fuck Griff would bother to call me about him. It’s not as if my brother will want to compare notes about what a son of a bitch Barclay Reed is. We both know that well. There’s no way in hell Griff simply wants to talk to me.

Something must be wrong.

Heart pounding, I fumble through my pockets until I find the phone.

I glance at the display. Sure enough, it’s Griff.

With a trembling finger, I press the button. I’m not sure what to say. There’s no etiquette for greeting the brother you haven’t spoken to since he splintered your business, called you a shitbag, and fucked your ex-girlfriend all in the same week.

“What?” I say cautiously.

“God, you’re still a selfish prick, sending Dad to my place while I’m working my ass off to finish my pitch. These are the two most critical days of my career! Harlow swore you’d changed. But nope. You’re still putting yourself first and not even bothering to tell the people around you to fuck off. You just behave like an absolute bastard until they do.”

“Hey! He came here first, behaving like the same ugly sphincter as always, bitching about Mom…and whatever the fuck else he rants about. After he laid into me about his shitty life and tried to make me feel as welcome on this planet as a turd, he decided he’d rather be with you. No idea why. Maybe he feels more comfortable with you since you two are so fucking much alike. But I didn’t send him your way.”

“Even if I believed you—or gave a shit—you can’t deny you’re trying to steal the Stowe business out from under me. I know you wheedled a chance to pitch to them.”

“I don’t deny it at all. George and Vivienne are going to list that house, like any other owner. I’m just giving them a presentation from the number one agent on the island so they can see what I plan to do for them. They deserve to hear more than one thought on how to sell their mother’s estate. That doesn’t make me a bad guy.”

Griff scoffs. “You tell yourself that lie if it helps you sleep at night. But I’m going to get this listing. I’m planning to make a major splash and it will blow everyone away, especially you. I’m going to crush you into the ground, big brother. Then I’ll be number one on the island, and you can go eat shit once and for all.”

Then three impersonal beeps tell me he hung up. Our first conversation in three years, and it’s as brief and ugly as the one that wedged the chasm between us.

I stare at the phone, numb. I wanted something different out of that. I’d hoped…

Like Keeley says, you can’t always get what you want when you want it.

“What did he say?” She climbs from bed and makes her way to my side, arms open. “That didn’t sound good.”

I don’t think about the fact that some would see me as weaker for needing her embrace now when I know it will make me stronger. “That Dad is cramping his style. Whatever. Griff apparently has a plan for the Stowe estate. He says he’s going to win and I’m going down in flames.”

“You know it’s talk. He feels threatened.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I know. But…what if he’s right?”

“That he’s going to ‘win’? First, your careers aren’t really a race that ends unless one of you gets out of the business entirely. If he pulls ahead for a year…there’s always next year. You two push one another to make the other work harder. That’s not necessarily bad.”

No. In fact, that’s probably true. But… “What I mean is, what if he’s right about strategy? He’s going in big, like it’s the real estate equivalent of a Super Bowl halftime show. I don’t know if he’s got dancers and marching bands or what. But he sounds so…smug. Like he knows something I don’t.” I drop the phone on the mattress and begin to pace. “What if my simple strategy looks like I’ve been slacking in Loserville to the Stowes? Maybe I did this all wrong.”

“We talked about your pitch.” Her touch is so gentle and earnest.

“We did,” I concede as I plop my ass back on the bed.

I don’t want Keeley to think I don’t value her contribution or see her point of view. She opened up my eyes, gave me a whole new way to view this listing. Hell, my business and my life. But I can’t not wonder if the touchy-feely approach won’t work with these two syrup heirs who just want to unload a property. Maybe they don’t want to be understood; maybe they just want top dollar.

“Now you’re not sure it’s the right approach?”

I shake my head. Griff’s words scorch through my brain. My dad’s aren’t far behind. What if I’ve fucked up because I’m always going to be first loser in this family?

“No.” I look at her. “I’m worried and I don’t know what to do.”

“Is he done with his pitch?”

I shake my head. “Still working.”

Keeley is quiet for a long minute. She meanders to the kitchen and fetches a water bottle from the fridge. Absently, she unscrews the top and sips.

I have an idea…and I hate myself for it.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

She shrugs. “He asked me to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I know.” At his place, where he could be alone with her and try to sweet-talk her into bed.

We’re both silent for a long time. I know we’re thinking the same thing.

I could ask her to finish the task I lured her in to start.

I cringe at the thought. My guts shrivel. It was easy to think about her spending time with Griff when I barely knew her. Now…everything is different.

But it’s also not. I’m still stuck in the same years-long feud with my own goddamn brother. My dad still thinks I’m a pansy-ass failure. I’m still struggling to feel good enough for both of them and searching for the life I want to have.

With a sigh, she settles beside me and takes my hand. “Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do it.”

I know she will, even though she doesn’t have a hateful, spiteful, or mean bone in her body. She would do something that goes against her own moral code because I need the outcome only she can provide. Yeah, she hasn’t said that she loves me, but why would anyone do that for someone they aren’t emotionally devoted to? My heart does a little dance at the thought…until I realize she’s looking at me intently, waiting for an answer now.