Page 6 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

“He’s this crazy billionaire,” said David. “Ex-navy or something. Kind of a loner. He bought that place a couple of years ago. Hardly anyone ever sees him.”

“Maybe this billionaire’s hiring,” I said. “I need a job, after all. Not that he seems like a likable character. He ran off when he saw me.”

“Making enemies again already?” said David.

I put my fork down and gave David The Look of his own. Only, it didn’t seem to do much.

“What does that mean?” I frowned.

“It means…” said David, “…that I spoke to Mom the other day. She told me you haven’t called.”

“I’m not in the mood right now,” I said. “I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

David stared down at me. It seemed like he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it.

“I guess it is a little weird,” he said eventually, after we’d shared an uncomfortable silence. “But I’ve seen her new place. It’s out past the rail depot.”

“And why exactly is our dear mother living in the backwoods?”

“I don’t know. I guess she couldn’t stay here, after everything that happened with Dad.”

“That must have been hard.”

David sighed. “It was a shock. I guess you’ve kind of missed out on all that.”

“I’ve missed out on a lot, David,” I said, feeling the bitterness rise in me. “I mean, what was Dad even doing out there?”

“It’s late,” David sighed. “Let’s not go into that now.”

I put down my fork and fixed him with a glare. “When are we going to go into it, then?” I said.

David sat in silence. He really did look like Dad. His black hair was buzzed into a flat-top and he was still dressed in a dark suit. He worked for Aron Lovelock’s office now, down at the town hall. I was proud of him. No one could have figured that the two oddball kids of the oddball Solomons would have wound up as a journalist and a political aide, respectively.

“I wanted to come,” I said. “But I know how Mom feels about me.”

“How would you know that when you guys don’t even talk?” said David quietly. He always spoke more quietly when he was feeling angry about something—the years had changed a lot, but this part about him hadn’t changed at all.

“David,” I said, lowering my voice. I didn’t want to start a fight now, but families have a way of stinging each other with words. “I really appreciate you keeping in touch. I do. And if something—anything—good came out of what…happened, then it’s that we’re in touch again. And I appreciate you taking me in.”

“It’s your house too,” he said. But I got the feeling that even as he was saying it, he was wondering to himself. “Even if you didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Speaking of things I’d rather not talk about,” I said. “It’s late. I’m gonna hit the hay.”

David rubbed his eyes. Even if I hadn’t seen my big brother in the flesh for years, he knew better than to bring up the subject of why I was back. Or why I’d left, for that matter.

“Sure, Laura,” he said. “Look, tomorrow’s Saturday. I’m gonna take Kyle up into the hills. Why don’t you go for a walk? See what’s changed.”

I smiled politely. “Sure thing,” I said.

*

As it turned out, almost everything had changed. And even though, as I drove into town, I recognized buildings and places that had been the center of my world as a teenager, the essential shape of the town had vanished from my memory. Like I’d succeeded in blocking it out, and it was now somewhere different.

For a start, Main Street was in disarray. I knew that the economy hadn’t been kind to towns like Caluga Falls. Mining and industry had been at an all-time low when I’d left, but even on a Saturday, Main Street had been crowded with families and kids who hung around. A fair few of the shops and houses were boarded up. I was heartbroken to see that the ice-cream parlor where I’d gone with my friends after school on Fridays was shut.

There was one place I recognized. The library. Caluga didn’t have much in the way of entertainment for its small population, but one of the things it did have was a library. It was a 19th-century building in the center of town, opposite the town hall where Aron Lovelock’s office stood. But I was disheartened to see its paint peeling from the walls as I approached across the square.

I stood looking at the place, revisiting the many hours I’d spent there, reading newspapers, books, and anything I could get my hands on. Outside, a small trestle table had been set up. Hung from its side was a sign that read RAISING MONEY FOR CALUGA FALLS LIBRARY AND COMMUNITY CENTER.