Mila slept through the afternoon and all night. I checked her temperature while she slept, waking her up when she needed more Tylenol. By the time the sun rose, I was exhausted. I’d been up and down all night, unable to sleep because I was worried Mila might need me. She woke up that morning with her hair covering most of her face and her eyes bright red.

I helped her take a bath and then put her into warm pajamas. Her fever hadn’t yet broken, so I tucked her into bed and brought her breakfast.

“I get to eat in bed?” she asked, her eyes widening with surprise.

“The rules don’t apply when you’re sick,” I said simply.

She bucked up almost immediately. A wide smile spread across her face as she propped herself up with her pillows. I put the tray over her legs and sat with her while she ate her toast and drank her orange juice.

“How does your stomach feel?” I asked.

“It still hurts,” Mila said.

“Is the toast helping?” I asked.

“Not rea…”

Mila didn’t get to finish her sentence before what little bit she ate came back up. I whisked the tray away from her and carried her to the bathroom. She got sick a few more times, tears sliding down her cheeks. When she was done, she was even paler than before.

I washed her off and carried her back to bed. She snuggled under the covers and rested her head against her pillow. She could barely hold her eyes open. I sat with her until she drifted off to sleep and for a while after. I couldn’t bring myself to leave her alone.

“Daddy?” she woke up after a few minutes.

“What is it?” I asked. “What do you need, honey?”

“Water,” she said.

Her throat was scratchy from throwing up. I nodded and hurried into the kitchen. When I got back with her water, she was passed out again. I smiled and brushed her hair out of her face. After putting the water on her bedside table, I sat down on the edge of her bed to watch her sleep.

I stayed there until the doorbell rang downstairs. Frowning, I pulled Mila’s door slightly closed and hurried downstairs. Samson was standing just outside the front door, waving at me through the window.

“What are you doing here?” I asked when I opened the door.

He held up a grocery bag and headed straight to the kitchen. I listened for a second to make sure Mila was still asleep, and then I followed him.

“Brought Mila some soup and stuff,” he said. He put the bag on the counter and unpacked a few cans of soup, a two liter of Sprite, and a box of crackers.

“Thanks,” I said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Samson shrugged. “Just wanted to check on her. How’s she feeling?”

“Like ass,” I said. “She’s had a fever on and off since yesterday, and she just threw up about an hour ago.”

“Damn,” Samson said, shaking his head. “Poor thing.”

I nodded and helped Samson put the food away. When we finished, Samson followed me into the living room, so I could listen for Mila while we talked.

“She’s sleeping, or I’d say you could go on up,” I said.

“I’ll wait around for a while,” Samson said. “I don’t have any plans until tonight.”

“Date?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Her name’s Heather,” Samson said.

I was too tired to care about Samson’s sex life, so I just nodded and collapsed on the couch. Samson sat down in a chair across from me with a frown.

“You look like hell,” he said.

“Didn’t sleep much,” I said.

“You know she’s not a baby anymore,” he said. “She’ll get you when she needs you. You don’t have to stay up all night with her.”

“Because you know so much about parenting,” I said.

“Only what I’ve learned from you,” he said with a grin. “But seriously, you need to sleep too.”

“I will,” I said. “When she’s better.”

“You can’t take care of her if you’re passed out from exhaustion.”

“You forget that I’ve gone days without sleep,” I said. “One night is nothing.”

“You aren’t in your twenties anymore,” Samson said. “Your tired old body needs more tender love and care.”

“Fuck off.”

Samson laughed and leaned back in the chair. I closed my eyes and tried not to fall asleep. He wasn’t wrong. My body wasn’t used to this anymore. I’d been getting eight full hours of sleep every night for years now. The days of my military stamina were long gone.

“Take a nap,” Samson said when I opened my eyes again. “I’ll listen for her.”

“No, I’m good.” I cleared my throat and sat up straighter.

“If you say so.”

“What’s up?” I asked. “You didn’t just come by to check on Mila.”

“What? I can’t check on my niece?” Samson asked, his tone too innocent.

“You can,” I said. “But you didn’t. What’s up?”

Samson sighed and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe I would dare suggest such a thing. We both knew he was full of shit.

“All right,” he finally said. “We closed on the Frank deal yesterday.”

“I know,” I said. “I got the email.”

“Yup.” He nodded. “Everything went through perfectly. Frank signed. We just have to wait the allotted number of days, and then we can move forward with renovations.”

“I know how it works,” I said suspiciously. “What’s up, Sammy?”

He cringed at my use of his nickname but didn’t say anything. I knew then that he wanted something. It wasn’t like Samson to pass up a chance to complain.

“I want to move on the repair shop,” he said boldly. “We closed Frank’s deal, just like you knew we would, and now, we’re free to focus on other things.”

“Sam,” I began, but he cut me off quickly.

“You said we’d talk about it,” he said. “After we finished with Frank’s restaurant. And we have. So, let’s talk about it.”

“Okay.” I sighed. “You’re right. Go ahead. Make your pitch.”

Samson cleared his throat and sat up straighter. His eyebrows pulled together as he slipped on his best professional demeanor. It didn’t quite fit. To me, my brother would always be the little kid who tagged along behind me. He would always have his hair slightly messy and his fingernails covered in dirt from playing outside. It was almost impossible to see him any other way.

“I crunched the numbers,” Samson said. “And, with a full renovation and proper signage, Tanner Bikes could bring in more than three-quarter mil a year.”

I blinked. That number sounded way too high.

“That’s impossible.” I shook my head. “I’ve seen the location and—”

“It’s not!” Samson said eagerly. His eyes were alive with excitement. “I’ve done my homework, Dec. I know what I’m talking about.”

Samson pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and tossed it to me. He grinned triumphantly as I turned it over in my hand.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Everything you need to get on board with this idea.”

“Sam.”

“Daddy!” Mila called from upstairs.

I made to get off the couch, but Samson held his hand out to stop me. He smiled and jerked his head toward the flash drive as if to say, “You look at that. I’ve got Mila.” Then, he turned and hurried upstairs.

I shook my head and went to grab my laptop. My first instinct was to ignore Samson and go take care of my daughter, but I thought better of it. Samson always took great care of her, and she would be thrilled to see him. Besides, it wasn’t often that my little brother cared this much about a business opportunity. I owed it to him to at least consider it.

With the flash drive clutched in my hand, I grabbed the laptop off my desk and went back to the living room. I sat on the couch and fired up the computer, sticking the flash drive in the port and waiting for the files to load.

After ten minutes of scanning the various documents, I knew Samson was right. He’d done his homework. He’d crunched the numbers, and his math was sound. At first glance, I couldn’t find a single error in his work, which only made my decision that much harder.

I groaned and closed the laptop. This was the part of my job I hated the most, constantly being the decision maker, the one who had final say over everything. It was moments like these when I actually missed my father.

He’d died when Mila was just a baby. In the years since, my mother had remarried. Her new husband Jeff was the only grandpa Mila had ever known. He was a good man. Kind and decent, if not frivolous and overly privileged, much like my father had been when he was alive. The only difference between the two was that Dad’s kindness and decency had never extended to his sons.

I’d taken over the company when he died because my mother asked me to. It was my dad’s wish and, by extension, hers too. I didn’t want to do it, but with Mila to take care of, I didn’t have much of a choice. So, five years later, there I was. Faced with yet another decision. Only this time, my little brother’s happiness hung in the balance.

“So?” Samson said when he returned. “What do you think?”

“How’s Mila?” I asked.

“She’s asleep again,” Samson said. “I got her some water and tucked her in. She said she’s not hungry yet, but you should probably take her something soon.”

“I will,” I said. “Thanks.”

“So?” Samson asked again. “Did you look it over?”

Samson’s hazel eyes were wide and full of hope. I’d never seen him so excited about work. I usually had to drag him to meetings, hold his hand through conference calls, and rewrite all his emails. The fact that he took the time to put in real effort was nothing short of miraculous.

As he stared at me, I knew there was only one decision to make. No matter how strong my doubts were, I couldn’t argue with Samson’s logic or his enthusiasm. We bickered all the time. He was a huge pain in my ass. But, he was my brother, my baby brother, and I couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing him.

“All right,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

“Really?” Samson laughed and clapped his hands together. “You’re serious?”

“I am.” I nodded. “Put together a proposal and get it to me next week. We’ll see what we can do from there.”

“Thank you, Dec,” he said.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” I warned. “You heard Alex the other day. She’s not interested in selling. This isn’t going to be an easy acquisition. It’s going to be an endless, uphill battle, and in the end, we may not even get it.”

“We’ll get it,” Samson said with confidence. “This is what we do, right?”

I nodded, but my mind had already shifted direction. Mentioning Alex had brought her to the forefront of my mind. I’d been so busy with Mila that I hadn’t let myself think about her, but once I started… I couldn’t stop.

“Will you be in on Monday?” Samson asked on his way out.

“No.” I shook my head. “I want to keep Mila home. Make sure she’s better.”

“Good,” Samson said. “That’ll give me time to work on the proposal.”

We said goodbye, and I went to check on Mila. She was already doing better. By that night, her temperature was lower, and she’d managed to eat soup and crackers without getting sick. I knew she’d be better by Monday, but I still wanted to take the day off. Mila was just a great excuse to swing by Tanner Bikes. I owed Alex my thanks for all her help. But mostly, I just wanted to see her again.