Unwritten
Page 64

 Melody Grace

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“If the wind changes, your face will stick like that,” a dry voice comes.
I turn to find my brother, Ash, leaning against the lobby desk, wearing a designer suit with his phone surgically attached to his hand and a group of women nearby sending admiring glances in his direction.
Business as usual then.
“What are you doing here?” I exclaim, going to greet him with a hug.
Ash slaps me on the back. “Business,” he explains, stepping back.
“What else?” I smirk. “It’s not like you have a personal life.”
He gives me a look. “An old business school friend of mine has some beachfront land he’s looking to offload. I figured it was worth the trip.”
“And to see your favorite brother, of course,” I add with a smile.
“Naturally,” Ash replies. “I’m booked on a flight back to LA tomorrow, so I don’t have much time. You want to come see the land with me?”
I’m tired, but Ash’s schedule is always so busy; I know that it was a big deal for him to even stop by to see me. “Sure,” I say. “Why not?”
Ash has a car waiting out front; his driver gives me a nod in the rearview window then slides the partition up. I look around at the plush leather interiors and whistle. “Not bad, big brother. I remember when you were rattling around in that beat up old Ford.”
Ash cracks a grin. “Until it gave up on me in the middle of the 405 exit ramp. Caused tail-backs all the way to the Valley.”
“You couldn’t find a tow truck to touch it.” I laugh. “You’ve come a long way.”
“You too.” Ash’s dark eyes flash with amusement. “Girls lining up to throw their panties at you.”
“Not just yet.” I laugh. “These days, I’m still lucky if I get a sweatshirt tossed in my direction.”
“You just wait. Between your future Oscars and Dex’s shelf of Grammys, I’ll be the poor underachiever in the family.”
I snort at that. “We might have the paparazzi stalking us, but with your real estate empire, you could buy and sell the both of us and not even blink.”
Ash doesn’t disagree.
He was always ambitious, but after our parents died, he became a total workaholic. I guess it’s paid off for him: he’s about to turn thirty, and his company has real estate developments all over the States.
“So, you’re going international now?” I ask, as the car turns out towards the coastline. It’s rugged and wild, with the sun setting back across the landscape in streaks of pink and gold.
Ash gives a measured shrug. “I’ve been getting kind of restless, maybe something like this is the challenge I need.”
“Restless?” I echo, surprised. “You mean your empire is getting dull.”
Ash chuckles. “Not just yet. I don’t know, I guess I need another mountain to climb.”
I’m not sure if he’s being metaphorical; with Ash, you can never tell. The guy went and climbed Everest a couple of years back, just because he felt like it.
After driving a few minutes more, the car comes to a stop on an impressive cliff-top by the ocean, and we get out. There are no other houses or buildings nearby, we’re completely alone.
“Give us five, Ed,” Ash tells the driver, who nods and pulls out a dog-eared mystery novel. Ash paces across the open brush towards the bluff with a thoughtful look on his face.
“What are you thinking?” I follow, picking my way along the overgrown path. “Luxury condos? A ridiculous mansion?”
He exhales. “I’m not sure just yet. Great views though.”
Now it’s my turn to shrug. “If you want ocean, just come to Beachwood Bay. That place has miles of undeveloped shore, you know, the whole quaint small-town thing. Plus you could actually spend some time with your family,” I add.
He turns, frowning. “Is everything OK with Tegan and Dex?” he demands.
“Yes, they’re great,” I reassure him. “But you don’t have to just come swooping in for an emergency. Dex and Alicia will start spitting out babies soon, Tegan’s playing house with her guy. It would be nice to all get together during the good times, not just the bad.”
Ash gives me another of his inscrutable looks, shadowed in the dusk light. “Says the guy camped out half-way around the world.”
“This is work!” I protest.
“My work keeps me busy too.” Ash’s lips press in a thin line: his “no arguments” face. I know it well enough from growing up, so I let the subject drop.
“It’s a good piece of land,” I tell him. “Whatever you choose will work out.”
“And what about you?” Ash asks, as we walk back to the car. “What are you going to choose?”
I look at him, confused.
“I may not visit, but I talk to Tegan every week,” Ash notes. “She won’t stop complaining about you screwing things up with Zoey.”
I sigh. “She doesn’t know the whole story.”
“I knew there was going to be trouble the moment I saw you guys together at New Year’s.” Ash looks rueful. “She’s been in love with you for years, you were always going to break her heart.”
“Hey!” Now my tone gets forceful. I stop and glare. “I’m hurting here too. I didn’t mean for any of this to get so fucked up.”
Ash’s expression gets sympathetic, just a little. “So what are you doing about it?”