- LOGAN -
I step into the massive complex that is the heart of my family heritage and feel nothing but anger as I storm toward the directory. It says a lot about how often I come into this building that I have to look at the directory to even know what floor my brother’s office is on. I haven’t been in here in years. Nearly a decade, actually, and the place looks completely different now. It’s a sleek modern fortress, intimidating and pretentious.
I spot the office of the CEO listed. Top floor, of course, I think, realizing I should have been able to guess that. My feet pound against marble floors that glimmer in the sun that shines through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the lobby.
Not a single fingerprint mars the mirrored elevator as I step in and press the button. My fingers are cold, wanting desperately to curl into a fist and punch my brother. Did he know? I want so much to believe that he didn’t.
As the elevator doors open, I’m greeted by a slick granite reception desk and a young woman in the tight ponytail and trim suit who asks if she can help me.
“Yes, I’m Jacob Sheridan, Jr. and I’m here to see my brother.”
Her eyes widen at that, and I’m partly surprised, having wondered if the people here even knew I existed. It wouldn’t be their fault if they didn’t. I’ve been the family recluse for so long, hiding out under the auspices of the U.S. Navy.
Nodding, she lifts her phone and tells someone I’m here.
She offers a seat to me, but I prefer to stand. I’ve got too much rage coursing inside my veins to sit in the soft chair she gestures toward, or sip on the coffee she offers to bring me.
An older woman approaches. “Mr. Sheridan?” she asks.
“Call me Logan, actually. I go by my middle name.”
“Of course. I’m Deborah, your brother’s assistant. Let me walk you back.” She signals for me to enter the long hallway and I spot the imposing double doors at the end. So this is where my brother hangs out these days, I ponder.
“You look so much like your mother. You have her eyes,” she says. She looks to be in her early sixties, the kind of woman who might have photos of her grandchildren framed and sitting on her desk. I decide to like her. “She’s such a lovely woman—your mother,” she continues.
We stop outside his door and she taps before she opens it for me. I spot him on the other side of a large mahogany desk, a desk I can imagine my father sat behind in the not-too-distant past.
“Let me know if you need anything, Mr. Sheridan,” she says and shuts the door behind me.
“Logan.” Standing, my brother looks concerned. “I don’t think you’ve stepped foot in this complex since…”
“Since a long time ago, Ryan,” I cut him off. “I’m well aware. Let’s just cut the bullshit for a minute. Does the name Newton’s Creek Boarding Kennel ring a bell?”
He looks at me, apparently confused, as he sits back down. “No. Do you need a boarding kennel for Kosmo?”
I lean back on my heels, a hint of relief seeping into my gut. “It’s a boarding kennel that went bankrupt a while back. Did I happen to mention it to you ever?”
I need to know. I need to know if I slipped about something that ended up causing Allie pain. It would kill me, but I need to know.
“I don’t think so. Why would you be telling me about a bankrupt kennel?”
“You just bought one, Ryan.”
Cocking his head, he frowns. “You mean the company did?”
“Yes, dammit, the company you’re CEO of.” My voice is thick with venom as I approach his desk.
His eyes narrow at my tone and he leans forward. “Do you have any idea how many acres we buy up every week, Logan? Oh, that’s right. You wouldn’t know, would you? Because you don’t give a shit about our family business. So don’t you dare come marching in here insinuating that I don’t know what’s going on in my company. It’s all land to me, Logan. I don’t give a damn if there’s an old kennel on it or an abandoned motel or a tree house. We’re after the land, not the buildings.” He pauses, checking his temper as he leans back in his chair again. “So are you going to tell me what the hell is going on, or are you just going to interrogate me some more?”
I square my shoulders toward him, still on the offense. “Allie put a bid on a foreclosure. An abandoned dog kennel. She wanted to turn it into a brick-and-mortar presence for her rescue organization so that she could save more dogs.”
Ryan’s face sags noticeably as he nods. “I remember you told me she was trying to buy something. But you never mentioned where.” He emits a quiet curse. “So I take it we outbid her?”
I nod. “By a sizable amount, I’m sure.”
“I didn’t know, Logan.” He moves his mouse, waking up his computer. “Where is it?”
“About three miles down Tyland Road. Two acres near the intersection with Birch.”
He taps at his keyboard and frowns at what he sees on his monitor. “In between two farms,” he says it under his breath, as if it’s more to himself than to me. “Yeah, we bought it and the two adjoining farms. We’ve got plans for forty homes there. A clubhouse with a pool. It’ll be a nice community, Logan.”
I raise an eyebrow. “It’ll be just as nice with a dog rescue on it.”
Ryan heaves a sigh. “I’m sorry about Allie’s plans. But there are other places where she can build a dog rescue.”
“You’re so detached from reality, aren’t you, Ryan? She doesn’t have the money for that. That’s why she bid on that old kennel. She had enough money to fix it up, not to start fresh. Why the hell can’t you just let her keep it?”
“I’m detached from reality? You’re the one asking me to keep an old dog kennel smack dab in the center of our newest seventy-acre housing development. The barking alone will drive people away. It’s not going to happen, Logan. I’m sorry. I feel horribly for Allie, but it’s nothing personal. It’s business.”
“Maybe it should be personal, Ryan. Maybe we have gotten too damn big if we’re buying up land without even thinking of the people it affects.”
“We build houses, Logan. We’re always thinking about people. We’re providing affordable houses in safe, family-oriented communities.”
“Affordable? That’s such bullshit, Ryan. Half the guys I served with can’t afford the homes you build, and they’re protecting your freedom, for God’s sake. You sit here in your slick new office with your Armani suit and build your houses for people in your world, not mine.”
“Listen—”
“No, you listen. That little piece of land was Allie’s dream.”
He stares at me, his eyes seeming almost sympathetic. “Shit. You’re in love with her.”
“Yes, dammit.” I know it’s the first time I’m admitting this, and it annoys me that I’m telling it to my brother, not her. I should have said it a long time ago. But it’s the last thing she wants to hear from me right now. “She’s everything to me. And you’ve fucked it up, dammit.” I give the chair I’m leaning on a shove, fighting back the urge to send it soaring across the room.
My breathing is tense and I need to get out of here.
“Where are you going?” I hear my brother over my shoulder as I head to his office door.
“To try to fix this.”