Chapter 1
Dario retreated into his office and poured a hefty portion of brandy over the ice cube. The hubbub of a busy restaurant came muffled behind the closed door. He dropped in the leather chair, set the drink on the desk, and dug his fingers in his scalp. For a few moments he stared at the melting ice cube in the golden liquid inside the tumbler. His mouth watered at the tempting sharp smell drifting from the glass. He pushed the drink away. The moment he took the sip, it would be no stopping. He worked damn hard to pull himself from the brink of the abys he tethered on and one drink would lead into the next.
By the decreasing clamor, it must be getting late. To hell with the paperwork piled on his desk. It didn’t take his mind offthe pain he carried for fourteen years. Some storms couldn’t be weathered and his was never-ending. His wound was still fresh and deep.
He straightened, leaning against the backrest, coldness of the leather pressing through the thin cotton of his shirt. Better get his thoughts back on the job at hand. These damn bills wouldn’t pay themselves. He grabbed the yellow purchase order from the top of the stack. The door to his office flew open and Ante stepped in, two uncapped beer bottles in his hand. He kicked the door shut.
Annoyance replaced Dario’s brooding. He pointed at his brother. “Your only saving grace is that we are family or I’d fire you on your first day for bursting into my office without knocking. Anyway, didn’t you see the notice on the door? No nuts allowed.”
“Ha-ha,” Ante teased, approaching the desk. “Very funny.” He plopped one beer in front of him and lowered to the chair facing Dario. “Never drink alone. Going back to hard liqueur? You know what that shit does to you.”
Dario tilted his brandy glass. Last time he had fooled his younger brother was in grade school, not likely he’d buy the lie now, but it was worth a try. “Wasn’t gonna drink it.”
Ante arched an eyebrow, staring at him with that who-are-you-kidding-bro look. “No? Then why torture yourself by staring at it?” He took a swig from his bottle and swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “We did great tonight. Wait staff is happy with tips they got and we’re ready to close. Mom must be proud, watching us from above.”
Dario brought his beer bottle to Ante’s in his raised hand. The glass clinked as the toast to their beloved departed mother, their ritual at closing for the night. “I’m sure she’s watches over us from heaven, and so does our dad.”
Ante nodded fast a few times, took another gulp of his beer, licked his lips, andthen brought the bottle to his mouth again. “So, coming to the party?”
Dario thumped his beer on the desk and pressed his finger at the stack of bills. “I suppose you’ll take care of this?”
“Oh come on. Leave the work for one night. It’ll still be here in the morning.” His brother threw his hands in the air, annoyance filled his tone.
“Exactly.” Dario leaned over the desk. “And doubled if this stack doesn’t get taken care of tonight. We receive deliveries every day.”
Ante pointed at him. “This paperwork is just an excuse. You think I don’t know you. Ana’s been asking about you.”
Dario turned to the computer screen, guilt brewing in the pit of his gut. “I can’t imagine why.”
“The two of you made a good couple, everyone thought—”
“Everyone thought wrong. Now leave me the hell alone.” Dario dismissed him with a wave of his hand. To hell with people’s opinions. Who asked them for the advice? The assumption that they knew what was best for him irked him no matter how hard he tried to ignore the rumors.
