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I went back to Bodhi's in order to let him know I’d be in town for longer than I anticipated. On the way over, I called my father and told him about the purchase, letting him know owning property like this could be financially beneficial, and how I planned to get Bodhi to come back to Seattle. My father was all for me staying down here, essentially killing two birds with one stone. If I could help the company by acquiring property we could rent it out or flip. He told me to look especially for any office buildings that might be accommodating in case we wanted to open a subsection down here and get in while the town was still small business. I got off the phone with my father feeling good about everything and as I pulled into Bodhi's driveway, I was actually smiling.

Bre would be down here in a matter of hours and I already finished signing the paperwork at Victoria’s office. I already had a meeting scheduled with Victoria for tomorrow so I could show Bre the house and get her opinion. Once I was finished with Bodhi, I was planning to drive over to that B&B and get some rooms for me and Bre.

It was just before noon and my brother was at his home in a pair of sweats. He looked like he hadn’t showered in a while, and judging by the scruff on the lower half of his face, he hadn’t shaved either.

I sneered. “Bodhi,” I grumbled as I walked through. “This is ridiculous.”

Bodhi gave me an odd look. “What are you talking about, Max?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“This lifestyle that you’re choosing to indulge in has got to change,” I said, sliding my hands in my slacks and glancing at his sofa to see if it looked safe to actually sit on. A crumpled blanket was in a heap on the floor and a lumpy pillow was pushed against the armrest of the couch. “Jesus, are you sleeping on the couch, Bodhi? What the hell, man? You’re better than that.”

It frustrated me that my brother had every opportunity in the world and instead of using it to his advantage, he took it for granted and squandered it away, which meant my father put an enormous amount of pressure on me. Not only that, but Isla, Bodhi’s twin, had more sense than both of us combined, and yet my father didn’t trust her with the business because she was a woman.

But Bodhi didn’t care. He eould do whatever he wanted, not caring that Isla would kill to be in his position. Not caring that my father was harder on me because of him.

Bodhi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “What the fuck is your problem?” he asked. “Who do you think you are, my father?” He snorted. “Come on, Max. I know Dad sent you, you told me yourself, so you can tell him you found me, you can tell him I’m not coming back, and you can get the hell out of my house.”

I slid down onto the couch and sat on the edge, careful not to lean back on the pillows. I didn’t want to know what he did by himself in front of the television. It was apparent his hygiene wasn’t a priority.

“Okay,” I began slowly. “Let me humor you for just a moment. Let’s say you stay here. I’m going to assume you paid for this condo in cash, right? Probably used a realtor named Vicki, cute little number but uptight?”

“Victoria, yes,” Bodhi responded, “and she actually reminds me of you.”

“Since you paid in cash, I’m going to assume you depleted practically all your savings because you, unlike me, make rash decisions. You don’t stop and think about the repercussions of said decisions. So, you have a house, but no income to supplement the savings you just depleted.” I raised my brow. “How am I doing so far?”

Bodhi gave me a look, but didn’t comment. When Bodhi was rendered speechless, it typically meant he didn’t like to admit that he was wrong in any way. It meant I was on the right track.

“Continuing on,” I said, pulling my hand from a pocket and using it to gesture my points. “So, you have no job, which means you have no money coming in. Yes, you have a house completely paid off, but everyone who buys a house knows it’s not just a house. What about utility bills, the trash, the energy bills? What about cable and Internet? What about the five cans of soda you go through on a daily basis? The Sex Wax for your surfboard? Your surfboards? Wetsuits?”

“What’s your point, Max?” Bodhi asked. He threw his hands up in the air, clearly annoyed with me. Good. He needed to understand the ramifications of his actions.

“You can’t buy all of those things without money,” I pointed out. “And you don’t have money or any way of bringing in money. What I’m trying to say, Bo, is you need a job. And -“

“I already told you,” he said, his feet starting to pace up and down the length of the living room. “I surf in competitions. There’s money there.”

I really wanted to be supportive of this idea, but even I couldn’t pretend to be okay with my brother claiming surf competitions on his tax return. He wasn’t sponsored and while he was decent, he never made any money.

“Money that isn’t consistent,” I pointed out. “Money you can’t depend on. Doesn’t entering a competition actually cost money?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he huffed, waving my concerns off.

“Guess what, Bodhi? You have to talk about this whether you like it or not,” I told him. “You bought a house. With a house comes responsibility, and I didn’t think that word was in your vocabulary. But now it has to be. You have to figure out a way to get money coming into your bank account on a consistent, stable basis.”

“And how am I going to do that, Max?” Bodhi asked. “You have all the answers, don’t you? Tell me, how do I do that if I don’t plan on going back to Seattle and working for Dad?”

I rolled my eyes. This was pulling teeth. “I’ll tell you, Bodhi,” I said, sarcasm dripping like venom from my mouth, “you’re going to have to get something called a job.”