Then Shane hangs up.
Good riddance. If I never have to hear the guy get sucked off again—which I’m betting is a regular occurrence—I’ll count myself lucky.
Immediately, I dial Brady’s number. My hopes aren’t high.
He doesn’t return my call until Friday. It’s eleven p.m. in New York City, where he’s currently planning a fan meet-and-greet over the weekend. But it’s five o’clock in Hawaii, where I was hoping to get the hell out of my office on time for once this week. When I see his number on my display, I sigh and drop back into my office chair.
“Thanks for returning my call, Mr. Rawson. Your older brother said I could count on you to help me with this reorganization Reservoir, Inc. paid me to oversee. I need some documents Shane couldn’t put his hands on—”
“Fuck. You’re not the Jeremy from Men’s Health?” I hear a shuffling of papers and what sounds like a party in the background, complete with loud music and laughing women.
“No. I’m Jeremy McBride of—”
“Shit. I need Jeremy Collins. He wants to talk to me about a shoot for the mag.”
“Congrats, but I called to discuss your father’s company. I’ve been hired to consult about your structure and practices, make recommendations, and—”
“That’s not my bag. Talk to Shane.”
I grit my teeth. “I did, and he said to talk to you because you’re joining the firm to help out.”
“The hell I am! I told him I’d pitch in when I got back to Dallas, but that’s not happening anytime soon. I’ll be in New York for a few weeks, then I’m jetting to Milan for a fashion show before heading to San Diego for a private photo shoot. I’m fielding a lot of offers this summer. I don’t have time to grow my fitness empire and do his job, too, especially when he’s too lazy to work, too stupid to understand his role, and too absorbed by getting his dick sucked to care.”
Brady might be irritable and crude, but I can’t fault his insight. No, he can’t help my cause, but I have more respect for him than Shane. So I feel compelled to say something. “You realize that, in your brother’s hands, Reservoir—and your inheritance—will be down the toilet?”
He scoffs. “I don’t care. I’m making six figures a month right now with plans to expand. I’m opening an online fitness platform next year.”
It’s clearly a big deal to him. “Awesome. If you’re not interested in—”
“Can I hook you up with a trial membership? It’s really an honor since, right now, the service is by invitation only.”
“Thanks, but you’re into your online fitness platform as much as I’m into my job. You know how it is, owning your own kingdom and all.”
“I get it. You’re cool, man. If you want something, maybe you should talk to Rogan. He’s way smarter than Shane.”
“Isn’t Rogan a bartender?” I remember that from my online research.
“Part-time. For now. But he’s got two fucking degrees. We keep hoping he’ll do something more practical with them than sling drinks.”
“Why doesn’t he?” Not that I care, but I’m curious.
“Because he hates mornings and he loves a different piece of ass every night.”
I can’t say I don’t understand his motivation. “Since he’s still making cosmos for the single ladies of Deep Ellum, maybe you can help me get in touch with your dad?”
Jeremy didn’t expressly say so, but I’m guessing the old man hired him.
“No one told you?”
“What? I’ve only talked to Shane so far.”
He sighs. “What a fucking douche. Dad hired you to help my brother out, so what does he do? Pawn you off on everyone else—without telling you the truth.”
“The truth?”
“Dad is in a bad way. He’s getting older, and his doctors recommended he totally unplug for health reasons. Shane promised to handle everything, but I think he just planned to drop it all in your lap.”
That doesn’t shock me. “Any idea how long your father will be away from the office?”
“Until his health improves. Who knows when that will be?”
“Well, I wish him all the best.”
But maybe I can use this to my advantage… After all, if Shane is supposedly helming the organization right now—which he’s clearly not—who’s leading the charge to win Wynam’s business?
I’d love to ask, but I can’t without risking my cover. There’s an answer, though. I’ll find it.
“Thanks. I found Dad a great, out-of-the-way, ultra-private spa in the Catskills. He’s learning yoga and meditation. He needs to rewire his brain to be more in sync with his body. Frankly, I think he needs to sell Receptacle and—”
“Reservoir,” I correct automatically.
“Whatever. It’s a risk to his health, and he’s wealthy enough that he should never worry about money again. Make Shane find his own way in the goddamn world. I found mine. And when Rogan gets his shit together, he will, too. Our oldest brother needs to grow up or fuck off.”
Can’t say I disagree. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Rawson.”
“Just Brady. And hey, if you change your mind about that online fitness platform, let me know. I’ll hook you up with a month’s pass.”
I already have a tough workout regimen, and Evan is a taskmaster in the gym if I ever think about slacking off. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And here’s Rogan’s number, just in case. He might be more interested in saving Dad’s effort at data storage domination than me. Worth a try, anyway.”
Then Brady is gone.
I stare at my dimming phone with a sigh. Now that my second hope is gone, what are the odds that I’ll have any luck with Rawson’s youngest?
Slim to none, but I have to try.
Monday morning—Rogan’s time—I call and leave a message. At least he calls me back the same day, though it’s four o’clock in the afternoon.
“Mr. Rawson?” I ask.
“That’s my dad. I’m just Rogan. Brady mentioned you’d be calling me. What’s up?”
If the youngest son isn’t involved, I can shorten this conversation a lot. “I’m the consultant your father hired to help streamline Reservoir. Are you planning to join the organization?”
“Fuck no. They have meetings before ten a.m. Who does that?”
Most of corporate America. “So you’re not planning to pitch in?”
“I’m busy with my life. If it helps, I feel sorry for you, having to deal with Shane. He’s my oldest brother, and I love him…but he’s useless. For real.”
“Yet he’s somehow going to run the organization?” I gently point out how stupid that is in the hopes it will make a difference to this guy. But I’m not holding my breath.
Rogan Rawson has all the potential in the world…and seemingly no drive. He has two degrees, one in physics, the other in chemistry. Unlike Shane, he finished college—with honors. And unlike Brady, he had job offers galore when he graduated. But Rogan was seemingly born with a silver spoon in his mouth and thinks he’s entitled to start at executive-level compensation, choose his work environment, and make his own hours. So like the spoiled heir he is, when he didn’t get his way, Rogan declined all the job offers and decided to extend his childhood until someone gave him a “real” opportunity.