Brooke

The first day of November had a chilly breeze washing over our city of Los Angeles. Wearing a light sweater over my t-shirt and blue jeans, I was ready for autumn to take over for a while, leaving the heat of summer behind us.

My heels clicked along the sidewalk as I made my way to meet my brother, Brad, for lunch at Pitfire, a pizza joint my brother and I loved.

A whistle caught my attention, and I looked around to find Brad getting out of his brand-new Lambo, the fire-engine-red exterior sure to capture everyone’s attention. “Hey, show off.”

His hand ran over the hood of the car as he made his way to me. “You like my newest ride, baby sis?”

“It’s awfully bright. Did you really have to go all out and get fire-engine-red, Brad?” I crossed my arms as I stood there, looking at the high dollar piece of machinery.

My brother had struck it rich when he went to work for Forester Industries right out of college. From there, he jumped off into his own business venture, procuring investments overseas for wealthy people.

Brad came up to me, holding out his arms for a hug, which I gave him. “That’s not fire-engine-red, little sis; it’s called Rosso Mars, and that particular model is an Aventador Coupe.”

“Fancy.” I kissed his whisker-covered cheek. “So, you’re sporting a beard now. How fashionably progressive of you. But it needs more conditioner; it tickles my lips.”

His eyebrows wiggled as he grinned. “That’s what she said.”

I punched him in the arm. “Eww! Nasty!”

“I didn’t mean anything dirty by it, kid.” He looped his arm through mine, leading me into the eatery. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned into him, not about to say I’d missed him while away at college, even though I had.

After being seated in what used to be our usual booth and ordering a blistered cherry tomato pizza and some root beers, my brother and I started catching up. I had been away, staying in the dorms at Berkeley for the last year. With my first year of college behind me, I was excited about my future and the new semester that I was a couple of months into.

Brad had been gone all summer, having to work overseas, and had only been back a couple of weeks. He told me he was eager to talk to me and find out how my schooling was going. “So, how did you like your first year?”.

“I loved it, Brad!” I informed him, over a mouthful of lusciously buttery breadstick. “Mmm. I missed these. I mean, I knew I would love it. But it’s even better than I thought. The teachers, the campus, just … everything is amazing. And the classes. They’re all theory right now, but I’m more convinced than ever that teaching little ones is where I want to be.”

“No surprise there. What were you when you first started babysitting? Three?” The tiny wrinkles that etched the sides of his grin reminded me that he was in his early thirties. That age group of people who had kids, even though he didn’t have a wife and kids yet, himself.

“No, seven. I watched Lainey Bradshaw down the street while her mom took piano lessons in the next room.” Our conversation was briefly interrupted as our drinks arrived.

He gave the waitress a nod as his eyes roamed up and down her body. “Thanks.” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers while resting his elbows on the table, obviously trying to look distinguished. “You doing okay this afternoon,” he looked at her nametag that was strategically pinned just above her left breast, “Meghan?”

Gag me with a spoon. I groaned, kicking him hard under the table.

Her pretty green eyes lit up as she smiled at my brother. “I’m doing fine. You?”

“Pretty damn good.” He winked at her. “Thanks, sweetie.”

With a tiny wave and flushed cheeks, she left us alone as he watched her go. I rolled my eyes.

“Some things never change. So, Brad. Have any of your friends had kids since I left? I’ve missed working with kids who aren’t just textbook studies. And I want to try out some of the things I’ve learned.”


“None of my close friends have kids, kiddo. Sorry.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys. “I have a surprise for you.”

“No way,” I mumbled, staring at his palm without touching the silvery keys. “Brad …”

Brad only had the most badass automobiles. He’d given everyone in the family one of his used ones at one time or another. Brad’s used cars weren’t like normal ones. Bentleys, Mercedes, Beemers—you name the expensive car, he had owned one or more at one time or another, and my big brother had always been generous with his hand-me-downs around his friends.

He jingled the keys playfully. “Say please …”

“Brad,” I repeated, just as our pizza arrived and we had to wait till everything was settled in front of us. When Megan sauntered away, I turned back to my brother. “Tell me you didn’t.”

He placed the keys in my outstretched palm. “You need transportation now that you’re back here. Taxis eat up way too much spare cash. You are now the proud new owner of a gently-used Carpathian Grey, Jaguar F-Type.”

Automatically, my fingers snapped shut around the keys. Even so, I had to protest. I mean, how did it look for a brother, even one as wealthy as mine, to be doling out hundred-thousand-dollar cars to his sister? I was no mooch. “You really shouldn’t have. I mean it, Brad. And I can’t even promise to pay you back, because that would take me 5,000 years on a teacher’s salary.”

He winked. “I’ll figure out some way for you to repay me.” Lifting a dripping cheesy slice, he dug in, grinning around his huge bite.

A little in a daze, I got up and hugged him hard before sitting back down. “You are crazy,” I informed him, reaching for my own slice. “But thank you. Wow. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And don’t even start about insurance and crap. I’ll find a way to pay for it.”

I had no idea how, but I would, I promised myself.