Blissful Surrender (Bliss #3)(14)
Author: B.J. Harvey

“Sean Miller’s office. How may I assist you?” an uppity voice answers.

“Hi. I need to speak to Sean,” I say quickly, sounding slightly more irritated that I want to be, but me and uppity don’t work well together. Miss Bouncy Bones (new name) replies, “Sorry, but Mr. Miller is working from home today. Can I take a message to give him tomorrow?”

“No, that’s okay. It’s Sam Richards from CPD. Just wanted to check in after the break in the other day. No doubt one of the detectives on the case will contact Mr. Miller once they’ve concluded their investigation. Thanks though.” I hang up the phone so damn fast that her ear might have gotten whiplash.

Fuck! I check my watch and see that I’m running late after the extended shower session. I put my car into gear and head toward the hospital, still not sure whether getting involved in the life of the Miller men is a smart move or not.

Once bitten, twice shy.

At least one good thing came from this morning.

Now I know where I can take Ryan.

Chapter 7: “Loneliest Soul”

Sean

Sitting in my home office, I should be working on my complex takeover case. Instead, I’m staring out the window overlooking Lake Shore East Park spread out before me. It’s Thursday lunch time and the park is bustling with office workers escaping the confines of their tall towers for fresh air and sunshine. The thought that people feel like getting outside into the fresh air gives them a sense of freedom makes me smile. I used to be like that, an intern, then an associate, and years before my time, a partner. Now I can charge high, hit low, and generally determine whether a case sees the inside of a courtroom or not. It’s been hard going, but all of my work has paid off, despite the loss of my parents, the loss of my grandparents, the loss of …

Anyway, now the only thing, the only person I have to deal with is Ryan.

I look at the clock hanging on my office wall, Ryan must be released by now. I don’t know this because Ryan called me and asked me to pick him up, but from the billing clerk who called a few hours ago wanting details for payment. Of course, I paid it, I always pay where Ryan is concerned. Whether with money or with pride, someone always pays.

I lean back in my leather chair, lifting my legs up and resting them on the top of my desk, my ankles crossed as I grab my cup of coffee and reflect on where my life is going. I’m thirty-four years old in a month. Thirty-four with a million dollar view, a successful career and a nightclub that keeps rising in popularity but what else do I have?

What would my grandfather think of my life? He was a fair man, a good man who believed in reaping the rewards of hard work and who tried to instil the same philosophy in both of us, but Ryan was never the type of person who wanted to work hard to get what he wanted. Even as a young boy he sought instant gratification.

Maybe that is why gambling has become his addiction of choice. I know, he could have chosen much worse, but his addiction and his need to be saved encroached on my time and my business, then I had to cut my losses. Brother or not, he needs to save himself, stand on his own two feet and not have me and everything my hard work has earned propping him up.

But old habits never die and I’m wondering where Ryan is going to go. I put in a call to his landlord on Tuesday morning and paid for this month’s rent and the month he was in arrears. That’s not to say I won’t make him work his ass off to pay me back for it, but I’m not heartless enough to leave him homeless either. I’ve contacted his old therapist as well and she’s sending me details regarding local Gamblers Anonymous meetings for him to go to. I can’t force him to get help, but if he wants any help from me he’ll need to take action. Doing something about paying back his debts would be a good start, but once he’s recuperated and back home, I’ll swing by and have a talk.

My outburst at the hospital still stands true though. I’m sick of being stuck in a parent role instead of a brother role which means that something has to change. I’m just hoping that Ryan will take the initiative this time, with a little encouragement from me.

The doorbell snaps me out of my thoughts. I take a sip from my coffee and switch screens on my monitor, almost spitting out the contents when I see Samantha and Ryan standing at the front door to my condo. I stare at the screen in shock but not because of Ryan. It’s the fact that he’s with Sammy, my Sammy, that is the kicker.

I thought it was strange that she’d turned up at the hospital the other night to check on him, but pleased as hell that she had and I got the chance to see her again. I meant every word when I said I’d see her soon, but two days later with my brother on my doorstep wasn’t on the cards.

Making my way down into the living area, then down the wooden stairs to the entranceway, I hesitate for a moment, sucking back the anger I still feel for Ryan while trying to work out what the hell he’s playing at by bringing Sam to my doorstep. Not for my sake, of course, but for hers.

I open the door and her radiant eyes captivate me once again. “Samantha, nice to see you again. Twice in a week is a pleasant surprise.” I look past her to see a sheepish Ryan holding a bag to his chest. His eyes are glued to the ground, refusing to meet mine. “Ryan,” I say in a low, strained voice.

Samantha clears her throat and looks me square in the eye. “Look. I know you weren’t expecting us, but when I called your office they said-”

My head jerks back. “You rang my office?”

“Yeah, they said you were working from home, so when Ryan told me that he couldn’t go back to his place right now, I thought it would be okay to come here.”

I shoot Ryan a menacing look before ushering them both inside. Ryan goes first, followed by Sam. I don’t miss the opportunity that presents itself to check out her perfect, peach shaped ass. Images of rubbing my hands over the soft orbs flash in my mind and I have to think of cold showers and wrinkly old ladies to calm the blood that’s rushing south of my belt. Amazing that she still affects me like that.

When we reach the living area, I walk behind the kitchen counter, buying myself some time to will my body back into a more relaxed state. Ryan stops by the counter and drops his bag on the floor before taking a stool. To be honest, he looks worn out. He couldn’t have gotten out of hospital more than an hour ago.

“Would you two like a drink? Coffee, juice, wine maybe?”

Ryan looks up at me suspiciously, his brow raised in silent question.

“Beer, Ry?” I watch him lift his chin before I cut across to Sam who politely shakes her head and takes a seat on my black leather sofa. I grab a beer out of the fridge and pop the cap with an opener from the drawer before handing it to Ryan. I brace myself on the counter and take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for whatever I’m about to be told.