Crazy Thing (The Brighton Family #5)

Chapter 8

8

DARIUS

“ S hots!”

“Hell, yeah!”

“Another, my brother!”

I roll my eyes at the guys. They’re acting like idiots. We’re all hanging out at Nolan’s bar. When I got here, I thought we were going to talk through my strategies for the waterfall situation. But tonight, my brothers are too wrapped up in some stupid drinking game they just made up.

I can’t keep up. They’ve already changed their rules a half dozen times. If they keep at it, they’ll all have alcohol poisoning by the end of the night.

They’re being so obnoxious that even Karli couldn’t stand to be around them. A few minutes ago, she got up from our table and dragged her best friend, Layla, over to the bar just to get away from our rowdy table.

Yeah, my brothers are having the time of their lives.

Meanwhile, I’m bored.

I’d love to have the luxury of unwinding like the guys, but I just can’t turn it off like they can. Lately, thinking about this waterfall mess has been consuming most of my waking hours. Now that the dust has settled, everyone around town has gone back to business as usual.

I feel like I’m the only one still taking this problem seriously. So I’m sitting here at the table, working from my phone to pass the time until I can bail on them and get back to my home office.

As always, I have a shit ton of work to do. Even more so now that I’ve had yet another assistant quit on me. Surprise, surprise .

I wasn’t even mean to this one. I guess she just didn’t plan on actually having to do work while she sat in front of the computer. The woman was highly offended that she couldn’t just scroll on social media all day.

Maybe it’s time I give up. I’ve been trying—and obviously failing—to have a local assistant helping me. But it’s just not working out so far, and I’m out of ideas.

Running my businesses really would be easier if I move back to New York or San Francisco. But now that I’m cursed and dying slowly, my days are numbered. I need to stick close to my home base. And more importantly, I need to make sure that my family is financially secure before I go. What’s the point of all the wealth I’ve accumulated if the people I’m closest to aren’t set up for success?

I’m focused on building. Always. That’s the way my brain works.

My siblings like to say I’m the boring one. Too uptight. Reserved. Detached.

They can say whatever they want. I know who I am. I’m purpose-driven.

Boring? Sure. If ‘boring’ means financially secure and fiscally responsible, then sure. But more than anything, I’m purpose-driven .

I nudge my oldest brother with my elbow. “What do you want in life, Archer?” I ask.

He looks at me, his shot glass suspended halfway to his mouth. “Huh?”

I shrug, expecting this to be a weird conversation. Weird, but necessary.

“Well, I helped Felix take over the medical clinic from Dad. I helped Karli start her meal subscription business. I helped Ronan with his hockey career. I’m helping Nolan with the bar remodel here. I even created a trust fund for little Stella and I’m paying for Mom and Dad’s year-long trip to Europe. But you…I don’t know what you want.”

Archer’s head turns toward the stools at the front of the bar. I follow his gaze. Together, we watch as Layla checks the time, hurriedly pulls her purse onto her shoulder and plops a kiss on Karli’s cheek. She discreetly glances in our direction, her eyes locking on Archer.

I swear, my brother’s ribcage immediately locks up as he holds his breath. Layla freezes, too. She offers a timid smile and a quick wave. Then she’s hustling toward the door, no doubt on her way to pick up her toddler son.

Archer stares longingly after her. “The thing I want most in life is not for sale. There’s no price tag on it,” he slurs his words.

“Well, fuck.” That shit was deep.

Archer’s head bobs slowly, his eyes lingering on the empty doorway. “Yeah. Fuck.”

My oldest brother would probably deny it if I came right out and asked him, but the obvious truth is that he has a thing for Layla. He has for years now. Watching his drunk ass tonight, I’m seriously wondering how much longer he’ll be able to suppress those feelings.

Nolan shows up at our table with a tray of burgers. “Eat up, you losers. I’m not babysitting any of you tonight.” Then he turns to me, a big grin eating up his face. “The contractors are almost finished with the terrace. You wanna go see it?”

“Hell, yeah!” I say, already out of my seat, my grin matching his.

I follow Nolan across the crowded bar and up a narrow flight of stairs. With a rough bump of his shoulder, he pushes open a finger-smudged door and a warm gust of air greets us as we step out into the balmy night.

“Fuck, yeah! This is what I’m talking about,” I say, my head bobbing in approval.

Nolan beams with pride. “Inez wants to put a little garden over there,” he tells me above the music bleeding up from downstairs. “We’ll set up a bunch of high-top tables on the other side. And we have to go pick out some string lighting from the hardware store.”

I take in every corner of the space, from the canopy-covered lounge area to the wide open dance floor to the view of the lush mountains in the distance. “I see the vision. The tourists will love it up here.”

The local witchy festivals draw large crowds to Starlight Falls year-round. I know that this terrace will be a hit among the visitors. Once it’s opened, this spot will be the perfect location to come and soak up the late summer breeze and enjoy a glass of wine on evenings just like this.

“Ah, shit. I’ve got to call the furniture company,” Nolan says suddenly. “I’ve got a couch delivery to reschedule.” He’s already backtracking toward the door.

“Go. Go on,” I tell him. I lean against the guardrail and stare out at the space again.

This bar upgrade was a good business decision for me. I can already tell .

To be clear, this investment was never about the ROI. It’s about helping my brother take his business to the next level and securing a bright future for my niece. Even still, it’s a satisfying feeling, knowing that my money is going to good use.

My moment of reflection is soon interrupted by the groan of tires. My eyes are drawn to the side of the building, and I watch as a big, ugly converted school bus pulls into the parking lot below.

It’s hideous.

With huge pink flowers, bright yellow smiley faces and multi-colored peace symbols stenciled all over the purple paint job. The name Lady Tourmaline is printed above the front windshield.What an eyesore.

The oversized vehicle makes an awful sound, one that I can even hear over the bar’s blaring music. It makes my ears ring.

I feel a scowl form on my mouth, annoyed at the sight of the bus entering the bar’s parking lot. But when I notice that the driver is trying to squeeze that big, ugly thing into the spot right next to my luxury sedan, my temper snaps.

Without a second thought, I bolt for the door and take the stairs two at a time down to the bar’s main level. Nolan’s cook gives me a wide-eyed look as I sprint past the kitchen and push my way out into the parking lot.

Oh, if they put even a hairline scratch on my paint job, this lunatic better be ready to pay big time…

But before I make it across the parking lot, the driver parks without incident. No scratches.

Still, I’m already fired up. So I march up to the bus, ready to curse the driver out about parking so damn close to my vehicle. Come on. If you’re going to drive a big-ass boat around, can’t you at least park at the back of the lot ?

Before I can get my tirade started, the door pops open, and my jaw flaps wide. It’s Ziggy Beaumont descending from the vehicle.

Correction: an angry Ziggy Beaumont .

My chest constricts at the mere sight of her. Angry or not, it makes little difference. This woman is a fairy goddess and I can’t help the overpowering effect she has on me.

My feet slow to a halt when she storms in my direction, hands curled into tight fists at her sides.

“You paid off my rent!” she accuses furiously, her blue eyes shooting fire at me from beneath the brim of her floppy hat.

The hell? That’s what she’s all fired up about?

My brow lifts slowly. “I did…”

Those pretty eyes go narrow. She tears the hat off her head, revealing silky, tangled pink hair. “What the hell kind of power trip are you on, Darius Brighton?”

I grunt. “What? Power trip?! How was that a power trip move? I’m trying to help you out, Ziggy.”

“I want to know why!” She huffs.“Why are you ‘helping’ me?” Her fingers draw air-quotes around the word.

Wow. This woman is a piece of work. I can not believe she’s about to berate me for helping her. Well, fuck. I definitely didn’t see this coming.

I fold my arms across my chest, challenging her. “Maybe I just wanted to hear a thank you from that rude mouth of yours.”

Sparks explode around her head. Fumes spill out of her ears.

Jeez. Why am I poking the bear?

“Oh, so you get off on the idea of making other people bow down to you? Huh?” Her tiny shoulders are practically vibrating, she’s so mad. “Well, guess what—I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Does the idea of losing your shop and getting kicked out on your ass turn you on? Because that can be arranged. Trust me.” I turn the tables back on her. See how she likes a taste of her own medicine.

Ziggy tucks her hat under her arm and stomps her foot. “What. Do. You. Want. From. Me?”

I give a mighty shrug, both of my shoulders rising and falling in exasperation. “I already told you. I just want to help.”

She scoffs, the sound dripping with sarcasm. “Like you want to help with the waterfall situation?”

I’m as serious as a heart attack when it comes to the waterfall. I let her know that. “Yes. I told you—I can fix the Edison problem. I can make it go away. If you get the stubborn townsfolk to cooperate with me.”

Damn. I’m starting to think literally no one wants my help. Why is everyone making this so frigging hard?

Ziggy just rubs salt in the wound. “They don’t trust you. For good reason.”

“Well, you could help them trust me,” I point out.

She puts her hand on her hip, indignation and attitude flashing like neon lamps in her eyes. “So basically, you want me to betray my friends. For you ?”

She smells like flowers and vanilla and incense smoke, a unique combination I’ve never smelled on any woman before. It weakens and disorients me.

“Geez. We used to be friends, too, Ziggy.”

Her tough exterior wobbles. She looks away from me, refusing to meet my eyes. “Friends no one knew about. Look how well that turned out.”

I step forward. “What was that? ”

“Nothing…” she mumbles, before pressing her glossy pink lips together.

Shit. I don’t get my ego bruised all that often, but ever since Ziggy strutted back into my life, she’s been using it as her personal punching bag. If only she knew how much I’ve beaten myself up over the years for the fact that I ever hurt her.

I stare at her for a moment. “Come on, Ziggy…”

My eyes hook on her lips again. They look like rose petals.

And they’re spitting fire at me.

“Look, I didn’t ask you to pay my rent, Darius.” She sighs, her blue irises turning up toward the darkening sky. “Now I’m indebted to you, and I don’t have a way to pay you back.”

I could think of a few ways. They’ll involve you on your knees with your mouth open though. But I’m not a masochist. So, I don’t dare voice my fantasies aloud. Because that’s just all they’ll ever be. Fantasies. That’s right. Because Ziggy Beaumont hates my guts.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, feeling drained from this five-minute encounter.

“Trust me, I plan on paying you back every single penny.” She grinds the toe of her chunky leather sandal into the gravel at our feet. “But I’m going through a few small financial… challenges at the moment.” She peeks up at me. “So, it might take me a while.”

I don’t want her money. When I decided to help her out, it definitely wasn’t meant to be a loan. It was a…gift, I guess.

But I know I’m going to have to pick my battles with this woman. So on this one? I give up.

“Fine…” I grumble out.

She eyeballs me for a moment before nodding. “Fine… ”

Then she turns to leave. She doesn’t make it far before she stops.

She glances over her shoulder and clears her throat. “And…thank you,” she rasps reluctantly.She settles her hat back on her head.

Then I watch as she stomps off toward her ugly bus.God—I love the sensual way her hips sway. Even as they’re marching away from me.

“Just think about one thing,” I shout, calling after her. “If we don’t team up on this, Edison wins. The whole town of Starlight Falls loses.”

She keeps walking but I see the wobble in her steps.

I continue, pressing my luck. “And everybody in this town has memories at that waterfall. I know we do.”

That gets her attention.

She swivels around, leveling me with those fiery blue eyes. “Don’t you dare bring that up, you asshole—”

“Come on. It’s not about us, Ziggy,” I say, closing the gap between us in a few long strides. “It’s about saving the waterfall. All you have to do is convince the locals that I’m not the bad guy here.”

Her nostrils flare as her eyes blaze with determination. “But that’s the thing—you are…”

Fuck. I take on difficult negotiations on a regular basis. But it’s clear that I’m not going to win this battle. No matter how hard I try.

It’s too personal. The wounds are too deep.

I sigh. “With or without you, I can’t let this happen. I can’t let Edison win.” I quickly rifle through my wallet, handing her a business card with my contact information. “But here’s my phone number. In case you change your mind. ”

She takes the card from me. She doesn’t rip it into pieces. That’s promising…right?

Not so fast.

“I’m not working with you, Darius,” Ziggy says, resigned.

She’s already climbing up the bus’s steps.And I know she has zero intention of taking me up on my offer.

Fuck. I give up. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know what else to offer. “Fine.”

“Fine. Bye,” she mutters in response.

And the door closes in my face, leaving me staring at a multi-colored peace sign.