heroic orchestrations playing in his head screeched to a full stop, and the picture of Sheldon’s sea-blue eyes, once lit with heroic worship, faded to black.
Like that would ever happen anyway.
2
THERE WAS ONLY ONE PERSON that Jeff depended on for advice. Himself. However, when gazillion-dollar financial matters were involved, he was out of his league, although he’d never admit it to anybody, especially his older brother, Andrew.
And it was for this reason that, when he called Andrew to meet him for happy hour, he told his brother that he needed to hit him up for money for a charitable donation.
Andrew was a successful hedge-fund manager—a hugely successful hedge-fund manager.
Jeff tried not to compare his successes to Andrew’s, because he’d always come up short—several billion short, in case anyone was counting. Of course even God couldn’t really compare to Andrew’s successes. But to be fair, God took a day off once a week, and Andrew never did. Jeff was a firm believer in a day off.
“So, what’s this cause of yours?” asked Andrew, sitting at the bar, sipping on his beer.
“Heart disease in kids. We’re doing a campaign to raise awareness. There’s some great breakthroughs in the medical community, new drugs that are entering trials and we’re putting together a complete media package, kicking off with this Their Hearts On The Line campaign. Great stuff. Really hits you right here,” said Jeff, laying a hand over his chest.
“How much do you need?”
“What’s the life of a child worth to you, Andrew? Then multiply that by fifty.”
“That’s serious cash.”
“Heart disease is serious business.”
“All right,” said Andrew, who then wrote one very large check.
Jeff tucked the paper in his pocket; he’d mail it to a charity tomorrow. He loved his brother unconditionally, owed him in ways that he could never pay back, but sometimes a man had to have a little fun. Separating Andrew from his vault full of money was Jeff’s favorite game. In the old days, those checks would be made out to Jeff, but eventually Jeff had managed on his own, so he had to think of new, better and more philanthropic causes for Andrew’s millions.
As the checks had gotten bigger, Andrew developed a reputation as a high roller within charity circles, and Jeff got to watch the pained expression on Andrew’s face as he signed his name at the bottom of each and every one.
Life didn’t get any better than this.
“So, how’re you doing?” asked Jeff. “How’s the new firm?”
“Lots of work,” said Andrew, blowing out a breath. “But worth it.”
“Saw where Jamie made the cover of Forbes.”
“Yeah,” said Andrew. At the mention of his girlfriend, Andrew’s face reflected something approaching humanity.
Whatever.
Jeff leaned against the bar and spotted a brunette watching him over the rim of her glass. Automatically he smiled at her, because deep in his genetic makeup, Jeff was wired for one thing: sex.
Andrew watched the interplay but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to, his eyes said it all. Andrew disapproved of Jeff’s lifestyle. Big whoop.
“I got a call from Ed Weinberger at Stockard-Vine Public Relations. We played on a golf foursome a while back. Anyway, he had a question about some stock, and I mentioned you to him. Turns out they’re looking for a VP. You should think about it.”
Jeff frowned into his beer mug. That was the problem with being around Andrew. His brother reminded him of the other thing that existed beyond sex and Jeff’s boat fund: responsibilities, with a capital R. The brunette stopped her perusing, and Jeff took a long swallow of beer. Responsibilities were best taken on when drunk.
Eventually, the taste of the lager left his mouth, but the sour taste of life remained.
Jeff met his brother’s eyes squarely. “Andrew, I’m not eighteen anymore. I have a career and a job that I got all by myself. I don’t need your help.”
Someday, his brother might understand that Jeff wanted to make it solo. ’Course, Andrew would probably be dead before it all sunk it, but Jeff would keep reminding him.
They’d been raised without their father, and Andrew had taken care of the Brooks family for so long that sometimes he forgot that everyone could take care of themselves now.
“I know you don’t like my help. I’m just letting you know the possibilities are there. It’d get you one step closer to that boat you want.”
Now it was time to change the subject. “So, listen, I have a question for you,” started Jeff, picking up a handful of peanuts and lining them up on his napkin.
“Shoot.”
“When you need to get somebody in line with your way of thinking, what do you do?”
“You’re kidding me. I thought you were the PR whiz.”
Damn. Lack of sleep was causing Jeff to lose his touch. “This really isn’t a PR sort of question. It’s more a question of mankind,” said Jeff, popping a peanut in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.
“Or womankind?”
“I don’t think we need to be gender-specific here. I’ve been thinking about this. I mean, PR is my business and all, but there are more important things going on in the world, and I need to pay attention to them.”
“What’s her name?”
“You know, it really ticks me off that you have such a low opinion of me that you think if I’m having issues, it has to be about women. I have thoughts. Deep thoughts.”
“Usually involving sex.”
“You don’t see my sex life thrown out onto the Internet like some cheap Playboy movie of the week,” Jeff reminded him.
Andrew’s face closed off. “That’s not fair.”
It probably wasn’t, but that never stopped Jeff. Last fall, Andrew and Jamie’s affair had been loosely fictionalized all over America in Andrew and Jeff’s younger sister’s sex blog. Gotta love technology.
“And it’s not fair that you don’t give me credit for deeper character virtues. You think all I have on the brain is women and sex.”
“What did you do last night?” asked Andrew.
“I was at a club.”
“By yourself?”
“There’s lots of people at clubs.”
“The night before?”
“I don’t
