More Than Everything

by Rachel Kane

  In that time, his father had clung to Dalton.

  Don’t leave me, boy.

  Never. I’ll never leave you.

  Listen… listen…

  He’d put his face so close to his father’s. He could smell the old man’s aftershave, could see every wrinkle life had pressed into that face he loved so much.

  Then his father had said the thing that got him thinking. The thing that had kept him up nights.

  Was it worth it? His father’s voice shaking, his hand weakly clutching Dalton’s sleeve. Was…was it worth it, boy? All this? The work…

  You’re going to be fine, Dad. I promise. They’ll be here in a second.

  Was it worth it?

  He had comforted the old man as much as he could, and when the paramedics came, he’d felt such a welter of conflicting things, watching them lift Dad onto the stretcher, watching them place an oxygen mask over his face. Gratitude that someone was taking care of him. A strange need to bark orders at them, at the staff, to make sure no one impeded his progress to the hospital. But more than that, a sense that his father had asked him something profound, something that would take thought, deep into the night.

  Was it worth it?

  Colby was finishing up the meatloaf, and was now spearing green beans onto his fork. He had never questioned any of it. For Colby, for men like him, the world was there for the taking. If you didn’t take it, then you were just asking for someone else to. Everything had to be owned by someone, and it might as well be you.

  “You’re wrong,” said Dalton.

  “I’m never wrong.”

  His coffee had been freshened up sometime in the last few minutes, judging from the steam; when had Renee done that? He couldn’t remember.

  “None of this is for me. None of this is about a crisis. You’re just confused because you don’t understand Dad.”

  “I don’t understand him? Dude, I’ve seen how miserable he is in that tomb you’ve designed for him. He wants to be up and about, wants to get back to work. You think he doesn’t know how hard you worked to make that room look like anything but a hospital room? Yet that’s exactly what it is. You know it, he knows it, I know it. Now you’ve got your eye on this mansion, but what are you going to do with it, turn it into a nursing home for Dad? Just admit that it’s not for him.”

  “What if they say no?” Dalton asked. “What if they refuse to sell?”

  Colby shrugged. “Then you’re no worse off than you were before. You get back to work and take out your crisis on someone else. Find yourself a nice guy to ruin for a while. Get someone with a skill, a massage therapist or something.”

  A nice guy to ruin. Of course. Colby’s idea of relationships was like his idea of everything else in the world. Something to own, something to exploit, something to throw away when all the good was used up.

  “Sorry, not interested,” he said. He thought of Noah, that stricken look when he was sent out of the room. “Relationships aren’t on the menu right now.”

  His brother laughed. “Nobody said relationship. Just, please, find someone in the city. Not someone down here. Did you see that little one today, Noah or whatever? What was he trying to do with that suit? Did he think he was going to impress anybody?”

  “He thought he was going to meet people from the foundation, not us. The suit was perfectly reasonable for that.”

  “Nothing about that suit was reasonable. Did you see the way he glared, when you kicked him out of the meeting? It was all I could do not to laugh.”

  “I feel bad about that now.”

  “Of course you do. Feeling bad is your new thing. All right, though. I’ve eaten enough meatloaf to last me the rest of my life, I haven’t checked voicemails in an hour, I have done everything you asked. Now, let’s go home. All right? Let those guys think over your offer, while we get back to work.”

  Dalton took several large bills from his money clip, and set them next to his plate. “Fine.”

  As they walked back to the car, Colby said, “You made a mistake, you know.”

  “I’m sure I did. And I’m sure you noticed it, and have been waiting to tell me all about it.”

  His brother chuckled. “It just occurred to me, actually. Thinking about that Noah guy. Kicking him out was the wrong move. He’s your way in.”

  Dalton paused before getting into the car. “What’s that?”

  “He’s in their circle, but kind of an outsider, right? Not family, just a friend. You should have focused your energies on him. The other two, Liam and Judah, might put up a fight—it’s their house, their heritage. But convince Noah, and then you’ve got a man on the inside. You’ve got a little influence over their decision. See, if it had been me, I would’ve taken him out. Not to the Red Cat Diner, mind you. Somewhere nice. Blown his mind with the good life, for an evening. That’s all a guy like that wants. He wants a taste of what he’ll never have. Give him that, and he’ll be on your side forever.”

  Dalton groaned and slid into the car. “Sometimes I think you’re a pure sociopath, Colby.”

  “Hey, whatever gets the job done.”

  7

  Noah

  “Here’s the plan,” said Noah. “Get me in the room alone with him. Just a few minutes. It won’t take long.”

  “You’re wearing the sex-pants again?”

  Noah looked at himself in the mirror. “What, do you think they look bad?”

  “I’m just not sure what you think you’re going to do when he gets here. What if his awful brother comes with him again? What if he has a whole staff of people with him? You think you’re just going to sashay up to him in your tight pants and drag him into a room all by yourself?”

  Noah groaned. “No, no, that’s too obvious.”

  “Those pants are too obvious.”

  “I’ll change the damned pants, okay? Fine! God, why did I ask for your help?”

  “Because you know Liam would freak out if he knew about your Secret Seduction Plan,” said Judah, placing careful emphasis on each syllable. Se-duc-tion. “I can’t believe you’ve managed to keep it from him an entire week. You’re really bad at secrets.”

  The week had dragged so slowly, it was like the last week of school before summer break, when the hours stretched before you without end, the second-hand on the clock hardly moving at all, while the teacher’s voice droned on and on. Dalton’s offer had hung in the air, the unspoken topic of every conversation, with nobody willing to come right out and say anything about it. Instead, they’d worked. Mason and Liam had been repairing baseboards; Judah had been troubleshooting their website, and Noah…

  Well. Noah had been busy in his own way.

  He reached into the armoire and pulled out two tops. “Which one do you think? The blood-red one clings to me like a second skin. Then this linen thing is kind of baggy, but shows off my throat and collarbones.”

  “What have we come to, that you’re asking my fashion advice?” said Judah.

  “Good point. Linen it is. And these pale wool pants that don’t look sexual at all, what do you think about them?”

  Judah threw himself back on the bed. “Stop asking me! I don’t know anything about clothes! I don’t know anything about rich guys and what they like!”

  “Jeez, and people think I’m the drama queen,” Noah laughed.

  “I don’t even understand why he’s coming back here. Why couldn’t Liam have told him no over the phone?”

  “Because he isn’t sure he’s going to say no,” said Noah.

  Which worried him. They’d talked about it over and over, and nobody had come to a clear conclusion. Nobody wanted to sell. But the idea of the place falling apart without an infusion of money didn’t please anyone either. Every conversation went in the same circle, until everyone was frustrated with everyone else.

  Someone had to take a stand. Someone had to take action.

  The Coopers had rescued Noah again and again when he was a kid.

  Now it was his chance to return t
he favor.

  The car that pulled into the drive wasn’t the same one as before. It wasn’t some vastly expensive sports-car at all, nor a long limo. Just a boxy SUV, silver, clean, practical.

  “Is that a good sign or a bad sign?” whispered Liam.

  When a stranger emerged from the driver seat, Judah whispered, “Bad sign.”

  “Oh hell, who are these people?” Liam asked.

  Noah just watched in shock. After the driver got out, the front-seat passenger did too, and neither of them was one of the Raines brothers. The back doors opened, and more people came out, holding briefcases and laptops. All strangers. All pleasant-looking and professional, but none were the man he expected to see.

  His hand traveled to his throat, and tightened his cowl collar. Suddenly he felt exposed.

  Something had gone wrong, something he hadn’t predicted.

  “Let’s see what this is about,” whispered Liam, stepping down the stairs to greet them, Judah close behind, while Noah stayed frozen on the steps.

  “We’re so pleased to meet you,” said the woman who had been driving. “You must be the Cooper brothers.”

  “Yes, and you are?” asked Liam.

  “We are from the Raines Holdings real estate division.” She announced their names, and they all shook hands with Liam, but the names all flew out of Noah’s head the moment they had been spoken.

  Where was Dalton? Wasn’t he coming? This entire plan to save the house depended on his arrival.

  “Where—” he nearly choked, his mouth dry. “Where’s your boss?”

  The woman looked up at him. “Are you Mr. Turnstock?”

  She was going to ask him to give them privacy, just like Dalton had. He knew it. He’d been planning and planning, he’d been thinking through every move, every word, the way he’d laugh at Dalton’s jokes, compliment his intelligence, the way he’d lay it on just thick enough, but not so much as to be obvious. He’d get the billionaire in a good mood, then he’d move in for the kill, convincing him that the house wasn’t for him, convincing him to give them the grant money anyway. The plan was flexible. It would take longer than a single conversation, Noah understood that. It might take multiple dinners, multiple nights.

  And now it wasn’t going to happen at all.

  His heart sank.

  His one great contribution to Superbia Springs, ruined before it even started.

  Which meant they’d have to sell. The house would be gone, and then what? Where would he go? Back to some retail job in Atlanta? Back to hunting down an apartment that wouldn’t break the bank? Best case, he’d get some small percentage of the proceeds the way Liam had promised, but he’d still have to find someplace new to live.

  And it wouldn’t be someplace like this.

  He found himself reaching out, touching one of the vast stone columns bordering the porch. How do you go back to normal, when you’ve had all this at your fingertips?

  He realized he hadn’t answered her. “Yes, I’m Noah,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.”

  She nodded politely. “Good, then we’re all here. Mr. Raines has had us draw up some papers.”

  “Listen,” said Liam, “I’m not sure what he told you, but we haven’t really made a decision yet. I’m sorry you wasted your time coming down here, but—”

  “It’s no trouble,” she said. “This is what we do. Now, do you have a room we could all sit in? We’ve prepared a presentation for you that will help you think through all the factors here. I think, once you’ve seen it, you’ll find the decision is much easier.”

  “Where is Dalton?” Noah asked again. “Couldn’t he be bothered to come himself?”

  “Noah!” whispered Liam in a warning tone.

  “I just find it odd, is all. If he loves the house so much, why didn’t he come to talk to us, instead of sending his lackeys?”

  The smile on the woman’s face might have been forced, but it was steely and professional and not going away. “He’s a very busy man, Mr. Turnstock. Raines Holdings is one of the fastest-growing companies in the country, and someone has to be at the wheel. But Mr. Raines put his trust in us. You don’t have to worry, we will come to an arrangement that is mutually satisfactory. Nobody leaves one of these deals feeling cheated, believe me.”

  As though it were just money they were worrying about. As though you could put a price on a place like this.

  “Come in,” said Liam. “We can set you up in my office.”

  Don’t do it, don’t give in!

  He watched with sinking heart as Liam and Judah led the others inside. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bear to follow them. Maybe it wasn’t his business after all. Maybe all this thinking he’d been doing, was simply wasted time. Let Liam and Judah cash in on their good fortune.

  Don’t they understand what this place is? Don’t they know?

  He pressed his forehead against the stone column, feeling its cool solidity. It felt like the only real thing in the world, where everything else was fleeting and temporary.

  Noah was just about to go inside, when he heard gravel crunching, and the purr of a motor. He turned back.

  The drive leading to the house was a long and curved one; the architect had wanted the mansion to be a visual surprise, but it meant that you heard arriving cars long before you saw them. Noah waited to see who was coming.

  He knew better than to hope for that Aston-Martin. At best, this would be Mason driving up, here to support the family…

  Except, no, that wasn’t at all the sound of Mason’s old truck, with its coughing engine.

  Nor was it Colby Raines’ fancy car.

  This was a limo, long and black, windows tinted to obscurity. Noah felt his pulse racing in his throat as it pulled behind the SUV. A driver emerged, and this time, it was a man dressed as a driver, not just someone who happened to be in the right seat with the keys; it was a man in a plain black suit and black cap, who nodded at Noah before walking to the back of the limo and opening the door.

  Dalton Raines emerged, and even from this distance, Noah could see those strange green eyes.

  “Why, Mr. Turnstock,” he said, “you’re just the person I wanted to see. Would you care to get in?”

  Comfortable didn’t begin to describe it. He sank into the leather seat and it seemed to contour itself to his body so well that he could have instantly relaxed…if he weren’t so nervous. Across from him, Dalton had taken a spot in the center, crossing his ankle over his knee. His grey socks had an almost invisible pattern traveling over the ankle bone, leading up into his pants leg. Noah made sure not to stare at that. The windows were so dark that the afternoon light hardly made it inside.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” Dalton said.

  “Yes you may,” Noah croaked. His throat had been dry before, but now it was as dusty as the surface of the moon.

  He was caught so off-guard, he didn’t even know how to sit. How should he display himself, the best to attract the eye? All thoughts of his big plan were suddenly jumbled in his head. If I’d known it was this easy to get in a billionaire’s car, I would’ve done it ages ago.

  “I hope it’s not too early for whiskey,” Dalton said.

  “Never,” insisted Noah, accepting the tumbler from him.

  Dalton chuckled, and poured himself a glass as well. “I’m sorry if my entrance was a little dramatic.”

  “You certainly have a way with timing.”

  “It’s just, I felt that I owed you an apology. When I was here last, I cut you out of an important conversation. That was wrong of me.”

  “I’ve already forgotten it,” said Noah, grateful for the smoothness of the whiskey…and for something to do with his hands, other than pick at his shirt. Was this even the right outfit for the back of a limousine? Should he have gone with the suit instead?

  “I haven’t. It was unspeakably rude of me. You’re clearly a part of the team that brought this old house back to life, and I should have included you in the negotiations.”
<
br />   If I’d been there, there wouldn’t have been any negotiations, because I would’ve turned you down flat. But instead of saying that, Noah took another drink. Damn, rich people had good liquor. He could learn to like this.

  “Your people are inside now, trying to convince Liam to sign papers.”

  “Yes. And they’re much better than I am, at talking people into selling. They’ve got all the charts and figures and things. They don’t need me for it. Would you like to take a drive, Noah? Would you like to show me around?”

  Okay, something’s going on here, he thought. Here he was, trying to figure out how to enact his Secret Se-duc-tion Plan as Judah kept calling it, but Dalton clearly had a plan of his own.

  Why don’t you want me in the room with Liam and Judah, while your people give their presentation?

  Oh. Oh no.

  It came to him in a flash. Of course. Billionaires don’t get that rich without doing deals, and they don’t do those deals without knowing how to read people. Dalton had somehow realized that Noah was objecting to the sale. Before, he’d dealt with that by kicking Noah out of the conversation…and now, it was even worse. He was trying to tempt him away, while his real-estate people did all the dirty work. By the time Dalton’s limo got back to the house, papers would be signed, and Superbia Springs would be gone.

  Think, damn it, think!

  “Shouldn’t we go in?” he asked. “I mean, this is your deal, why have your underlings do it when you’re right here? Besides, I should be there. For moral support, you know.”

  Dalton laughed. “Underlings! I’ll have to remember that one. I’m sure Marcia and the team don’t think of themselves like that.”

  “But could we—”

  “Oh, you don’t want to sit through a boring presentation, do you? You don’t strike me as a fan of numbers, Noah.”