3
Wesley Jansen’s stomach growled. He placed a hand over it as he looked over the financials for Squishy Cat Industries, the corporation he owned with his brothers.
“Food will be here soon,” Everly, his brother Chris’s girlfriend, said with a quiet voice and a knowing smirk.
Chris, his youngest brother, joined them in the boardroom. He had a Cheshire Cat grin on his face and a small, flat box in his hand. They’d been meeting weekly at 96.2 Sun radio station—just one of the businesses under their SCI label—since Wes had joined them on the West Coast. Chris and Noah both had a head start on establishing themselves in their communities, particularly Harlow Beach, where Noah lived. The brothers volunteered at one of the local recreation centers but also attended town halls to meet residents of the neighborhood.
Effecting positive change wasn’t just about money. It was about becoming part of the community and learning about real needs. Things that mattered most to the people who had to live there. Wes needed to catch up in that regard but he was trying to get them sorted in other areas first, such as finding an office space of their own.
Not that anyone minded meeting at the station. Everly worked there as a producer with her best friend, the DJ, and it was his suggestion. Noah’s girlfriend, Grace, was joining them for lunch today.
Jane, the office administrator, popped her head into the room. “I ordered enough for everyone but I’ll bring your salads in here when they arrive?”
Chris nodded, thanked her, then turned back to whispering something in Everly’s ear. It was good to see him so happy. Wes would never let his happiness rely on another person, but he was grateful his brothers had found love.
“You ordered salad?” Noah looked up from the notepad he and Grace were studying. “You that cheap?”
Grace smacked his arm. “I could use a salad. I’m pretty sure my blood is part brownie now. Tara has got to stop trying new recipes out on us.”
“Says you. You can never have enough brownies,” Everly said. She pinned her gaze on Noah. “These salads are awesome. You need to try them before you complain.”
“Oh, is this the place you and Stace tried last week?” Grace asked.
Everly nodded. “Delicious.”
“To a girl who eats like a mouse,” Noah grunted.
Everly stuck her tongue out at Noah. “Chris had one too and he loved it.”
“No. He loves you and therefore told you he loved it then snuck out for a steak,” Noah said.
Chris laughed, shook his head when Everly looked at him. “Not true. He’s lying. A man can love his girlfriend and salad. Noah’s just not that evolved.”
All of them laughed. God, it was good to be all together again. When his brothers decided to build their own lives away from their tyrannical father, Wes had hesitated.
He liked his life in New York. He enjoyed routine, knowing when all his favorite restaurants were quiet, which shops catered to locals, and he loved walking through the city. Like his brothers, what he didn’t like was his father’s insistence that what he did for the family business was never enough.
“Have you tried the salad place yet, Wes?” Everly asked. “I know you like your routine of coffee dates at Tara’s but the shop is right next door.”
Looking up from his laptop, he frowned. He’d seen it, obviously, since he lived right up the road from Baked and used one of their back tables like an office. Sure, he’d met a few dates there but no more. Not for a while anyway. “Coffee and work.”
She smiled. Everly was so shy and reserved when he first met her, he’d thought she didn’t like him until Chris explained she had severe social anxiety. Over time, she’d shown more of herself and Wes was thrilled his brother had found someone so special. Someone who grounded him but also appreciated what he brought to her life.
“Dates not going well?” Grace asked. She was different than Everly but every bit as lovely. Both of his brothers were damn lucky men.
“I’m taking a break.” He was in no rush. Not wanting to talk about it, he looked down at his phone.
Wes wanted a consistent, predictable dating life. He wanted to meet a woman who enjoyed an evening out, or in, shared the same interests, and wanted her own life, independent of his.
He wanted the like without the downfall of love. It looked and felt right for his brothers but Wes had worked hard to shield them from the realities of where love could lead. As the oldest, he’d seen and understood the nastiness of their parents’ divorce up close. He’d always been more attuned to tension—his father condescendingly referred to Wes as the “sensitive” child—and when his parents would start, he made it his job to distract them. They’d go play outside, find hiding spots in their enormous home, play video games, or just huddle together in one of their rooms. Wes didn’t want them to feel sick to their stomachs every day like he had in the end.