Hundred Reasons (Money for Love Book 1)

by Ali Parker

I kicked him in the shin, and he quickly shoved half a sandwich in his mouth. We didn’t often see our mother and stepfather. We’d barely seen our mother since Dad died and she remarried. I rolled my eyes and focused my attention on Mila. We ate lunch, and then Mila scooted away from us to build a sand castle.

  “Listen,” Samson said, nudging me with his shoulder. “I’ve got a date tonight.”

  “Tiffany?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

  “Stacy,” he said.

  “The hostess from yesterday?” I asked.

  “Yup.” He grinned.

  “Are you fucking kidding?” I demanded.

  “Don’t lecture me,” Samson said. “I wanted to ask if you were free. I can call Stacy and get her to bring a friend.”

  “No,” I said without hesitation. “Thanks.”

  “Come on.” Samson groaned. “When are you going to start capitalizing on that single dad game? Girls eat that shit up.”

  “I’m not interested in dating right now,” I said simply.

  “It’s not exactly dating.” Samson chuckled.

  “I’m not you, Sammy,” I said. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “You can’t be a recluse forever,” Samson said. “Eventually, you have to let go of the past and move on.”

  “I don’t have time for anything serious,” I said. “Between the business and Mila, my time is claimed.”

  “Exactly,” Samson said. “Which is why you need something casual. A release, if you will.”

  I shot him a warning look, but he just sighed and shook his head. This was a conversation we’d had far too many times.

  “I don’t understand you,” Samson said. “Before you left town, you were this badass risk-taker. Ever since you moved back home, you’ve been boring as hell. What happened, Declan?”

  “Mila.”

  “Don’t use her as an excuse,” Samson said.

  “How about this?” I asked. “I don’t want to hook up with low-quality girls.”

  “Damn.” Samson whistled. “Way to hit me where it hurts.”

  “Am I wrong?” I demanded.

  “Stacy seems wonderful,” Samson said. “A true peach.”

  “Whatever you say,” I said. “Besides, Mila is the only girl I need in my life.”

  Samson sighed deeply and dropped the subject. He moved over to help Mila with her castle, and the two of them disappeared into their own little world.

  I watched them play, feeling grateful to my brother. I gave him a lot of shit, but Samson connected with Mila in a way I never could. My heart had been closed off for so long that I’d forgotten how to fully open it. Mila was my whole life. She was everything to me. But, I was still guarded. Samson wasn’t.

  He could just be silly and childlike whenever he wanted. He wasn’t burdened by the responsibility of being a father. In some ways, I envied him. Mostly, I was glad he was around. Even when I pretended otherwise.

  4

  Alex

  “Good morning,” I said brightly. I bent down to scratch Hazel behind the ears. She wiggled with excitement, her tail waggling hard behind her. “You hungry?”

  I went into the kitchen with my German shepherd hurrying after me. She stayed right beside me as I filled her water bowl and grabbed the kibble from the pantry. Her entire body vibrated with energy as I poured the kibble in her bowl and laid it down in front of her. She wasted no time, chomping down on the food and lapping up the water with frantic speed.

  “Slow down.” I laughed. “You’ll make yourself sick and then what? We’ll have to go to the vet and totally ruin my day off.”

  Hazel ignored me and kept eating like she did every other morning of her life. I laughed again and went to sit on the couch. I’d never been one for breakfast. My stomach didn’t work before noon, but I sipped on a bottle of water while I turned on the TV.

  It was Sunday, so there wasn’t anything good on, but I enjoyed the noise. I flipped through the channels, stopping every once in a while to listen to a line of dialogue here or a funny commercial there. Nothing held my attention for very long. I liked it that way. I spent so much time focused at the shop that on Sundays, I let myself veg out and just exist.

  When Hazel was done with her kibble, she bounded over to the living room and jumped on the couch. She curled up on top of my feet and laid her heavy head on my knees. I scratched her ears absentmindedly while my eyes stayed glued to the TV.

  “What do you think?” I asked Hazel a few minutes later. “Dog park later? Or maybe the beach?”

  Hazel just kept her head on my knees and stared at me with her big, dark eyes. I laughed and rubbed her head. She turned her head against my palm and licked my fingers gently. It was supposed to be a sweet kiss, but Hazel was so large that her tongue covered my entire hand.

  “Thanks for that.” I wiped my hand on my shirt. “I guess you don’t want to go anywhere then?”

  Her head popped up. I laughed again and pushed her off me. I got off the couch while Hazel ran to the front door. Her leash hung on a hook beside the door. Hazel looked at it and barked and then turned her whole body to face me.

  “Let me shower first,” I said. “Then we can go.”

  Hazel whined but followed me into my bedroom all the same. I took a quick shower and threw on some comfortable clothes before Hazel and I set off for the beach.

  I lived close enough to walk, but Hazel always got distracted by the other dogs we encountered on the way, so I decided to drive us. Hazel’s head hung out the window the entire way there. She barked at the wind, making me laugh and ensuring I stayed in a great mood.

  We spent most of the morning and afternoon on the sand. Hazel splashed in the waves to cool herself down, but I stayed out of the water.

  As I watched Hazel play, my mind turned to the day I adopted her. My dad had taken me to the shelter after we’d had a particularly rough day at the shop. He said there was nothing better than a good lick from a sweet dog to cheer you up. He was the one who pointed Hazel out to me. I adopted her that same day.

  Hazel ran back to me, spraying me with seawater just as my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw my mom’s number flashing across the screen.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “Just checking on you,” Mom said. “I was gonna make a roast tonight if you wanted to stop by for dinner.”

  “Sure,” I said. “What time? Seven?”

  “Six would be better,” Mom said.

  “I’ll be there.”

  We hung up, and I checked the time. It was already almost four. I sighed and ushered Hazel back to the car. By the time I got her home and bathed, it was time for me to head out.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours,” I said. I rubbed Hazel’s ears playfully and let her lick my nose. “See you later.”

  “So,” Mom asked when we sat down for dinner. “What’d you do today?”

  “I took Hazel to the beach,” I said.

  “Oh, you went for a swim?” Mom asked.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Hazel did, though. She was disgusting by the time I got her home.”

  “I remember when you got her.” Mom laughed and took a sip of her iced tea. “Your dad was so excited. All he wanted to do that night was show me pictures. He’d taken about a thousand at the shelter.”

  “He picked her out,” I said, smiling to myself. “He told me she was the perfect dog for me to come home to every night.”

  “He worried you were lonely,” Mom said.

  “How could I possibly have been lonely?” I laughed. “Dad never left me alone long enough.”

  My mom smiled, but her eyes fell to the table. When she looked back at me, they were dark with sadness. I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. It hadn’t been often that I saw my mother’s brilliant green eyes alive with anything but joy. Ever since my father’s death, they seemed to become three shades darker.

  People always said I was my mother’s twin. Long dark hair. Bright gre
en eyes. Petite figures. On the outside, we were exactly the same, but deep down, we couldn’t have been more different.

  “How are you doing?” I asked her softly. “Do you need anything?”

  “No, honey,” Mom said. “I don’t need anything. I’m doing okay. I’ll be sad for a long time, but it’s getting better. Every day is a little easier.”

  “I miss him too,” I said.

  “I know you do.” Mom smiled sadly. “You know what I was thinking about the other day?”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Those old photo albums up in the attic.” She laughed. “Do you remember when your dad made me pack them up?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He told you they were taking up valuable CD space.”

  “And he meant it.” Mom laughed again. “He filled those shelves with piles of CDs, all of them in the wrong cases.”

  “Are the albums still in the attic?” I asked. “Do you want me to get them down for you?”

  “Sure,” Mom said. “That would be nice.”

  I pushed my chair away from the table and made to leave the kitchen.

  “I didn’t mean now,” Mom said quickly. “You can finish your dinner first.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind.” I shrugged. “I’ll be right back.”

  Mom’s eyebrows pulled together with concern as I hurried out of the kitchen. It took me barely five minutes to find the box of photo albums and bring them downstairs. It was the least I could for my mom. She was so sad, so heartbroken, and there was nothing I could do to help her. I knew I needed to be strong for her. It was the only thing that mattered anymore.

  “Thank you,” she said when I put the box on the kitchen counter.

  “Of course.” I smiled and sat back down.

  “Your dad and I met at a bookstore, did you know that?” she asked.

  “I thought it was a café?” I frowned. “Dad always said you were working at a café to put yourself through school.”

  “I was,” she said. “But, that’s not where we met. Your father never remembered it, but we met at Betty’s Books downtown. I went there to buy a book for my literature class, and your dad was there on a date.”

  “What?” I laughed.

  “Yup.” Mom nodded. “Her name was Trisha or Tina or something like that. She was such a vapid woman, but your dad took her out all the same. When I saw them, she was talking a mile a minute about different books she’d read and your father, well, you know how he felt about books.”

  “’Just put it on tape,’” I quoted. “’Then maybe I’ll pay attention to it.’”

  “Exactly.” Mom laughed. “So, he was pretending to listen to her. And when I walked by, he was so zoned out that he didn’t see me. He slammed right into me, and I dropped the books I was carrying all over the floor.”

  “Awkward,” I said.

  “Your dad mumbled some apology and scooped the books up,” she said. “He pushed them into my arms without looking at me and then kept walking behind Trisha or Tina. He barely even noticed me.”

  “He never told me that,” I said.

  “Like I said, he never remembered.” She shrugged. “He was too busy with Trisha or Tina. Though every time I mentioned it, he would say, ‘I know you’re lying because I wouldn’t possibly have paid attention to any other woman if you were in the room.’”

  I grinned as a faraway look passed through my mother’s eyes. She was happy at that moment, but it soon faded back to sadness.

  “He always hoped you would find someone,” Mom said. “He wanted to see you get married. To see you happy.”

  “I’m plenty happy,” I said.

  “You’re a loner,” Mom said.

  “And that’s how I like it.” I smiled. “Besides, I have everything I need at the shop. That place is my life now.”

  “Work isn’t everything,” Mom said. “Even your dad would have told you that.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “But, I can’t think about anything else right now. The shop is struggling too much. Some days, I’m not sure we’ll make it.”

  “Are things really that bad?” Mom frowned.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I don’t want to lie to you, but yes. They are. The money just isn’t there, and honestly, if I don’t think of something soon … I don’t even want to think about what will happen.”

  “I wish I could help,” Mom said. “If only we had money not tied up somewhere else.”

  “I don’t need your money,” I said quickly. “Dad left the shop to me, and I’ll find a way.”

  I forced some conviction into my voice, but my mom saw right through it. Her eyes were narrowed with concern, and the way she patted my hand was just a touch too understanding. I hated that she knew about the shop’s financial struggles. I never wanted her to worry about anything ever again, but I wouldn’t lie to her. I wouldn’t keep secrets. She deserved more than that.

  “I was thinking,” I said slowly. “There is one way I can keep the doors open for a little while. Dad and I talked about it before he died.”

  Mom held up her hand to silence me. Her eyes lost their look of concern. She narrowed them in a glare and shook her head firmly.

  “I know exactly what you’re going to say,” she said. “And the answer is no. You know your father was against that. He would never have been okay with it. Not ever.”

  I nodded and let the subject drop. My mom was right. My dad would have killed me for even considering the possibility.

  “You’ll find a way,” Mom said, her voice lighter now. “You always have, and you always will. I believe in you, and so did your dad. He wouldn’t have left you the shop if he didn’t.”

  “Thanks.”

  I tried to smile, but I knew it looked fake. I was scared, and no amount of encouragement from my mom could change that.

  Still, I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind. I made sure the conversation stayed light after that. My mom had been through enough. The last thing she needed was more stress.

  5

  Declan

  My office was freezing. Every part of my body felt frozen, too, as I sat behind my desk and tried to start my day. My fingers shook when I placed them over the keyboard, and my toes felt the chill even through my shoes.

  “Mornin’,” Samson said, pushing open the door and collapsing into a chair.

  “Why is it so fucking cold in here?” I demanded.

  “You know they jack up the AC over the weekend.” Samson shrugged. “It’s supposed to help with electricity costs, though I don’t know why.”

  “It’s bullshit,” I muttered, still trying to warm up enough to type.

  “You’re in a great mood today.” Samson laughed. “Was the rest of the weekend that bad?”

  “No,” I said. “It was great. Mila and I spent yesterday watching movies.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Samson said wistfully. “I spent the day puking.”

  “The universe’s way of calling you on your shit,” I said.

  “The universe is proud of me for getting laid,” Samson said simply.

  “How is your little peach?” I asked.

  “Stacy’s amazing,” Samson said. “She left before I woke up. Perfect woman.”

  “It’s too cold in here for me to care about your exploits right now.”

  “Fair enough,” Samson said. “We have to meet Barry anyway.”

  “Is that today?” I asked. My eyes snapped up to meet Samson’s.

  “We’re supposed to be in the conference room in ten minutes,” Samson said. “You forget?”

  “Obviously.” I groaned and pushed myself away from the desk. “Let’s go.”

  Samson followed me out of the office and pulled the door closed behind him. We walked briskly toward the elevator and stepped inside.

  “You think he found anything this time?” Samson asked.

  “We’ll know when we get down there,” I said. “But, it doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure Frank’s going to sell within the mon
th.”

  “Did he call?” Samson asked.

  “Not yet.” I shrugged. “But, he will.”

  “Here’s hoping you’re wrong.”

  I ignored him. The doors opened. We stepped out of the elevator as a few people stepped on. I nodded at the ones I recognized. They all smiled and stepped around us as we carved a path toward the conference room.

  While we walked, people called out greetings and plastered fake smiles on their faces. I tried to smile back, but I hated every minute of it. Being at the office felt like torture to me. I preferred to be out on the road, searching for properties and doing something active.

  “Good morning,” Barry said when we reached the conference room. “Is your mom joining us today?”

  “No,” Samson said. “Mom and Jeff are still in Bermuda. It’s just us today.”

  “Great,” Barry said. I could sense the relief in his tone. “Take a seat.”

  Samson and I sat in our usual chairs and waited for Barry’s latest rundown. I let myself zone out slightly. I already knew where our next purchase would come from. Frank might have been proud, but I saw right through his bravado. He was scared. It was only a matter of time before his dwindling bank account overpowered his sense of pride.

  “What you got?” Samson asked, getting comfortable and turning his full attention to Barry.

  “Not much,” Barry said with a sigh. “It’s slow out there right now.”

  “Great.” I groaned. “Can we go then?”

  “Declan,” Samson warned.

  “What?” I asked. “Barry knows I hate wasted time.”

  “It’s not wasted,” Barry said quickly. “I don’t have much, but there is one place that’s promising.”

  “Oh?” Samson asked. He didn’t really care. He hated buying out businesses, but he didn’t want me to be rude to Barry.

  “It’s a motorcycle repair shop on the outskirts of town,” Barry said. “Tanner Bikes. You heard of it?”

  I shook my head, but Samson sat up straighter.

  “Over on Hudson?” he asked with interest. “Tiny place tucked away behind that old warehouse?”