Charlotte

I’d finally done it. I’d pushed Ben Hanratty over the edge and made him angry.

I was in shock, and then I felt bad. And then I got pissed off at how he’d yelled at me. And then I felt bad again.

I should quit. Or maybe he’d fire me. Maybe I should call him or text him. Instead I opened the nice new MacBook Ben had bought me as his assistant and Googled Michael Hanratty, Ben’s father.

I should really learn to Google things before I open my big mouth.

There weren’t a lot of articles about Michael Hanratty; he seemed like a very private person. There was an obituary that outlined his illustrious career. There were a few of his articles, linked in law journals. There was a photo of him standing at a podium, speaking to a class at Harvard Law. Harvard Law. But the most interesting picture was the one from the day he celebrated winning an important case.

It was from a local San Francisco paper, and it was a clear picture of a group. In the middle was the man himself—he looked like Ben but whip-thin, clean shaven, his hair dark and sprinkled with gray. Next to him was his wife, Ben’s mother, a big woman with a warm smile. Both of them were older, like maybe they’d had kids later in life.

Standing next to them was Ben. So different from the Ben I knew, yet unmistakably him: those eyes, those cheekbones. His hair was short and he was clean shaven, which made him look beautiful in a different way, boyish and almost sweet. He was wearing a suit, like any other smart, young, up-and-coming lawyer. A man who had every reason to step into his father’s shoes and continue his work. And yet he hadn’t, or not exactly. He’d become a different kind of lawyer than the kind who wrote articles and spoke at Harvard Law. I can’t ask my father about his wisdom anymore, because he’s dead.

Standing next to Ben was a woman. She had long, dark hair tumbling down past her shoulders and a pretty, perfectly shaped face. Flawless skin, dark lashes, nice makeup. Her dress fit her like she’d had it tailored—sexy and classy at the same time. She had one hand on Ben’s shoulder, and a small smile on her lips.

I checked the date on the photo. Ten years ago. The divorce was ten years ago, Ben had said to Estelle. I don’t even know where she lives anymore.

This was Janice, the ex-wife. The woman I’d variously heard referred to as the herpes of his life, the woman who fucked him over, and a raging cunt.

She was pretty. Beautiful, really, and in the photo she and Ben were a matched set. I could see why he’d fallen for her, and it gave me an ache in my throat.

Maybe he wasn’t even over her.

Whatever had happened, it had hit him so hard he’d spent ten years on a ninety-day sex schedule rather than get close to anyone again.

Don’t bother fixing me. It doesn’t matter.

Ben wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get close to anyone. I tended to push away the men in my life. Maybe it was time to rethink that.

I closed the browser, picked up my phone, and called my brother.

“Charlotte,” Jeremy said when he answered, “I’m kind of busy right now. Can we talk later?”

He’d said that last time I called, too. The other times, he hadn’t even answered. I felt a twinge in my stomach that my brother, the only family I had left, was brushing me off. “I’m calling to see how you’re doing,” I said. “You never talk to me.”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Really?” I said. “A biker gang just tried to frame you and kill you, and there’s nothing to talk about?”

“It’s over,” Jeremy said. “Ben got me out of there. My record is clean. I just want to move on.”

I closed my eyes. I’d always been the logical one, even when we were kids, while Jeremy was the dreamer. He’d always been absent, lost in his own head. Usually he was annoyed with me, like my silly logic brought him down. It wasn’t a big deal. But now… now it was starting to get on my nerves. “A biker club has some kind of vendetta against you,” I said, trying not to sound exasperated. “I don’t think you can just move on.”

“Ben fixed it,” my brother said. “I mean, I assume he did, after I told him everything.”

“What do you mean, you told him everything?”

“About the Lake of Fire, and all. He wanted me to tell him everything on the drive back to his office. He was pretty rude about it, actually. Especially after what I’d been through that day.”

I opened my eyes again. “What did you tell him?” I said. “Tell me.”

“Look, it’s over, all right?” Jeremy said, his voice tight. “I told Ben what happened, that’s what matters. I don’t want to tell you because you’ll get mad.”

Was I losing my mind? “You mean that you know why the Lake set you up, and you told my boss, but you don’t want to tell me because I’ll get mad?”

“See, there you go,” Jeremy said.

“Jeremy, for God’s sake. Just tell me.”

“Why?” he said, his voice rising in anger and irritation. “You think you can help? Are you gonna go to the Lake of Fire and fix it, Charlotte? Fix everything? Is that what you’re going to do?”

This was bad. He was being a jerk, sure, but something was wrong. My brother’s voice was wound tighter than a piano wire. “Jeremy—”

“This is what you do, Charlotte,” he said. “You walk in and take over. Like you have all the answers, and no one else ever does. Like it’s all your business. You’ve been doing it to me since I was a kid. Charlotte always knows best.”

That stung. “Hey,” I said. “I’m working two jobs right now. To help you out.” In fact, I had to leave now for the Red Cardinal—so I could work the rest of the night.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Jeremy said. “That’s what I mean. I can make my own money, Charlotte. I can make my own way. But you go ahead and take two jobs—”

“To pay your legal bills, asshole!”

“I would have worked something out.”

“Oh really?” Now I was angry, with tears fighting behind my eyes. “Like every other time you worked something out, Jeremy? You wouldn’t have taken any programming courses in the first place if I hadn’t helped.”

“Yes, I would have!” he shouted, making me jump. “If you would just let me do it, I would! But you never do!” He paused, and I heard him take a breath, trying to calm down. “I would have paid my own legal bill,” he said. “I didn’t ask you to do that. All I asked you to do was go find Ben and hire him for me. I would have taken it from there. But you just took over.”

“You’re being a complete prick,” I said. “I’ve been trying to help you. Ever since Mom and Steve split, there’s only me and you.”

There was a pause. Then Jeremy said, “Not anymore.”

“What?”

“It isn’t just you and me anymore,” my brother said. “I don’t want to be a programmer. I never have. I was just doing it because you were pressuring me so hard to get a job, to make money. But it isn’t what I want to do.”

“Oh, my god,” I said. It was like he was stabbing me with this. I’d worked so hard to help him through the programming course. I’d thought he was doing it to build our future, because we were a team.

We’d never been a team.

“I have to strike out on my own, Charlotte, sink or swim. It has to be just me from now on.”

“This sounds familiar,” I said, my voice bitter. “Mom said something like that when she took off to Costa Rica. Steve said something almost exactly the same when he left gambling rehab and left us with all the debts.”

“Maybe it does,” Jeremy said. “But this way you don’t have to pay for me anymore. I don’t want you to. I want to try going out in the world and paying for myself.”

I tried one last time. “We’re family,” I said.

“Sure we are,” Jeremy said. “Come see me tomorrow and we’ll talk. But right now I’ve gotta go.”

There was a click in my ear.

He was gone.