It’s the kind of day that stretches into the night. With no plans and nowhere to be, we separate ourselves from the clock.

I haven’t done this in years. Years. 

I’m not used to it.

It’s still dark out when I wake up.

My mind is curiously blank, except for a nagging question somewhere deep in my thoughts. It won’t quite surface, not at first. Something to do with Josie. 

This little vacation is over in two days. That’s what’s on the schedule, though if she begged—really begged, like she does when I have my fingers hooked inside of her just so—I might extend it. It’s the unknown on the other side of the flight that worries me.

Where’s she going to go? What does she do?

She works somewhere, doing something, right? I want to know what it is. It’s a little bit weird that it’s never come up, all this time.

Josie is still sleeping, her hair fanned out behind her on the pillow. She looks so peaceful that I can’t stay awake for much longer than it takes to kiss her on the temple. She stirs, murmuring something in her sleep, but doesn’t wake up.

Light. Light through the sliding glass door. I must have fallen asleep, and now it’s like I’m on a boat arriving slowly back to shore. It’s a strange heaviness, this unmooring from all my responsibilities, but I feel like it’s all right to dip my toes in again.

Josephine isn’t in bed. There’s a scrap of paper from the hotel notepad on her pillow. Quick run—won’t go too far. I didn’t want to wake you up :) —Josie

It’s too quiet without her, but I’ll take advantage of the solitude.

For once it feels like I’m choosing my work instead of the other way around.

The only frustrating thing? That she was right.

I take my laptop out to the balcony and drink in the morning air, silky on my skin, and listen to the waves crashing against the shore while I write. When I get back to the city, I’ll have to follow through on Italy—I might even plan a trip there personally—but I’m starting to get the impression that Adam is handling most of this on his own for once. I don’t know how a disagreement about operating methods ballooned into this, but that’s my brother.

As it is, the cash is still flowing, and we’ve managed to stay in business another day.

My dad used to say this thing. “Cash is king,” he’d tell me with a grin. I always thought it was a bullshit saying, the kind of thing that anyone’s dad would say, but looking back, it was clearly foreshadowing what a garbage person he’d reveal himself to be. “Follow all the laws, son,” he said to me once, sitting on the other side of his massive desk. “Do right by everybody. That’s the law at Cash Industries.” Then he laughed, leaning across at me with a wink. “And that’s why cash is king.”

It was a lie.

It took me years to see through it, but he was only being truthful about one thing: cash was king for him. Cash was king over everything else, including the rest of us, including his family. 

I shake my head, trying to clear the memory. There’s no reason he needs to be on my mind right now.

I’m making shit up to put in this email to pass the time. I send it, shut the laptop, and lean back in my chair.

The view from my suite is stunning. Down below, the pool glimmers in the sunlight, pristine and blue, the tiles around it gleaming and all the chairs arranged in neat rows to greet the day. A green lawn melts into the trees and trails, and finally there’s the beach, an uninterrupted stretch of white sand. The sound of the waves combines with the sound of the breeze rustling in the trees. 

Dex should put in a bid to take over this place. We have plenty of private getaways in the family, but the idea of something a little more public-facing strikes me as a good one.

How can I be against it when I met Josephine because this isn’t one of the vacation homes we’ve acquired over the years?

The door of the suite opens with a bang, flying open so hard that it connects with the doorstop. I stand up with a grin. If Josie’s in one of her moods, then she’ll probably be running at me right now with a light in her eyes and a wicked smile on her face.

One look at her shatters that fantasy like a glass chandelier falling from the ceiling onto unforgiving cement.

Josie has her phone pressed to her ear. “—know I can’t fucking stand you. Why are you even calling?” She waves a hand in the air like she’s batting away someone who’s standing right here. “No. No. I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help. If you actually cared about me—” Her face is bright red. “I don’t give a shit what you do with it. Put it by the curb. I honestly don’t want to touch anything that you—” Her mouth twists into a sneer. “Yes, the money. The money is very important, to both of us. You’re never getting another cent, Rolly. If you can’t afford the rent, move out.” One more pause. “Lose my number,” she hisses, then stabs at the screen with the pad of her thumb. As soon as she’s finished, she drops the phone to the tile in the entryway of the suite and covers her hands with her eyes. 

My heart aches for her. Josie is trembling with rage but trying her best to control it.

It’s not working.

She takes one deep breath, then another, but it does nothing to ease the tension in her shoulders. They keep rising up toward her ears.

“Hey,” I say softly.

Josie drops her hands and looks at me, her jaw set. “This is fucking embarrassing.”

“It’s really not.” I step fully into the room. If there’s nothing else to be done, I can at least hold her. But Josie spins on her heel, heading for the door. “Wait—”

“No.” She holds up a hand. “I need some time to cool down. Alone.”

Then she’s gone, the door swinging shut behind her.