Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Quaid turned, stopping in the middle of the street. “All right. Then tell me why you’re really here.”
Paul could sound very reasonable when he wanted to. He knew how to make people like him, how to get them to want to help him. He was excellent at looking like the good son, especially since their mother insisted he was. This meant that most people who met Paul thought Quaid was the problem. How could Quaid not see how nice his brother was? How polite and charming?
He was always made out to be the monster who couldn’t appreciate how creative Paul was. Paul was creative, all right. He was an excellent, creative liar.
“I’m here to see Mom and to spend some time with you,” Paul insisted.
Like he was lying right now.
Quaid turned again because he wasn’t buying that line of bull. He would take his brother home and then pray that Jayna was still awake and waiting to finish what they’d started.
What had they started? A kiss. A flirtation. Two people who could use some affection spending time together.
An all-raging-hot affair that would lead to . . .
“All right. I came because I got in some trouble.”
Quaid groaned, a deep weariness sweeping over him. If Paul was willing to admit he was in trouble, it had to be bad. “What happened?”
“I just . . .” His brother started to pace, moving back and forth behind the Benz. “I owe some people money.”
Quaid felt his gut tighten. His brother knew a lot of unsavory characters, dangerous people. They were the type of people Quaid liked to write about, not have in his life. “Drug dealers?”
Paul’s head shook in the negative. “No. I told you. I’m off the stuff. That last stint in rehab took. I’ve been clean for a long time now.”
“But not sober.” He didn’t see the difference. His brother had an addictive personality.
“I still drink,” Paul explained with a nonchalant air. “Drinking wasn’t my problem. And it’s weird to go to a bar and order water or soda. You know I like to fit in. I met some people I knew in high school tonight, and I ended up kind of hooking up with an old friend. Deena Kenmore.”
Quaid knew where his next divorce case was coming from. “She’s married with three kids.”
Paul held his hands up. “I did not know that.”
“Did you ask before you got with her?”
Paul shrugged. “Not exactly. I’d had a couple of beers by then, and is it really my problem?”
“It will be when her husband gets back from his rig and kicks your ass.” Deena’s husband was a roughneck, and he wasn’t known for his calm demeanor.
“Well, I’m not his wife so I don’t see why what I did is all that wrong. I’m not the married one.” Paul huffed. “Look, none of this matters. Like I said, it’s not drug dealers. But I might have borrowed some money for a movie project that never actually happened.”
“Well, then you should have the money to pay the bank back. How long was the term of the loan?” Quaid was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I didn’t exactly borrow it from a bank, and I had bills,” Paul admitted. “It’s why I had to turn off the security system on my car.”
“Who did you borrow the money from?” Quaid could feel his eye start to twitch.
“A guy I know,” Paul said, sounding exasperated. “Look, all I need is a couple of weeks to get the money and then everything will be fine. I’m going to lay low here. That’s all.”
None of that answered Quaid’s principal question. “Why the hell do you need money when you have a trust fund? Please tell me you still have a trust fund.”
Paul was silent for a moment. “Things are expensive in LA.”
Quaid cursed and felt his hands fist. It was every bit as bad as he thought it would be. “Millions of dollars, Paul. You went through millions of dollars. Did it all go up your nose?”
“No,” Paul said through gritted teeth. “It went into my career. It went into acting lessons and the clothes I need and the networking that goes on, and it went into a couple of projects that might still pay off. I produced two movies with friends of mine. One of them is good, Quaid. It’s a great movie but it’s tied up in a bunch of legal shit that could take years to deal with, and now I’ve got to sell my house to pay off this guy who might break my legs if I don’t.”
Naturally his brother had gotten involved with a loan shark. Maybe even the mob. That tracked perfectly. “How much do you owe?”
Paul took a long breath, his hands going into his pockets. “I told you I’m handling it. I’m working on selling the house, but it takes time.”