enemy.
Damn Merriweather for pitting them against each other.
Damn his budget, too, for not being enough to do right by her and his brothers, and damn his ego for deciding that this
was the property to make his mark. He had too much invested in this project to lose it.
But the sharks were already circling, wondering if Livvy was going to sell. He’d had to fend off six phone offers today; he wondered how many Scanlon was getting at the office.
God help him if Livvy heard the amounts people were offering. There was no way he could compete unless he brought in more investors, cut back on his vision for the place, or lowered the projections he’d given his brothers when proposing this deal. So either they’d make less or Livvy would. What a freaking choice.
The alpaca snorted and pulled back on the makeshift bridle Sean had fashioned.
“Not now, Rhett. I don’t need you giving me trouble, too.” His conscience was doing enough of that already, because the only way he could save his company and his brothers’ money was to do the one thing that hadn’t been a problem before he’d met her but now went against his very soul: swipe Livvy’s birthright out from under her.
Chapter Thirteen
Y OU look awful pretty in green, Bryan. Matches your eyes.” Sean couldn’t resist ribbing his brother, the only one of them who hadn’t changed for the dinner with Gran as they waited in the common area of the assisted living facility where she now lived.
“Don’t push it, Scene.”
Bryan had teased Sean about the spelling of his name their entire lives. As if it was
his
choice to have an odd spelling. That and the dyslexia that had made learning to spell it a bigger challenge than it should have been.
“Seriously. How does Mac expect us to call ourselves
Manley Maids
when we’re wearing the most
un
manly
pants in the history of work uniforms?” Bryan picked up the latest copy of
People
off an end table and thumbed through it. “See?” He held out the magazine. “Now
that’s
a work uniform.”
It was a picture from his last movie where he’d had bombs bursting behind him, a gun in each hand, and a woman clinging to each arm. Bikini-clad women.
“Hey, I’m up for giving Mac the money for new uniforms.” Liam slapped Sean on the shoulder when he arrived. “I feel like a frickin’ girl in those clothes.”
“We could sing like one, too,” said Sean, adjusting himself. “Who the hell designed them?”
“I did.”
The three brothers shut their mouths when their grandmother walked into the waiting area. “I take it there’s a problem?”
Sean felt about three inches tall. Another part of him did too after spending eight hours in the uniform
that his grandmother had designed
. “I’m sorry, Gran. We didn’t know—”
“I realize that, Sean. I know you boys would never deliberately hurt me.” She touched Bryan’s arm and he bent down to kiss her cheek.
Sean was startled at how much Bry
had
to bend down. Gran had seemed to shrink as they’d grown, but he’d put it down to them growing so quickly. But now that they were all over six two—and presumably finished growing—she was still shrinking.
It didn’t help that this new home dwarfed her. He’d never thought she’d leave the Cape Cod–style house that’d been too small for three rambunctious boys and the little sister who tried desperately to keep up. Gran had presided over her small old house where Mac still lived with such strict rules and fierce love that she’d seemed larger than she actually was. But now . . .
Gran was getting older. Sean sucked in a breath. She’d been the one constant in their life after their parents had been killed in the car accident. He didn’t know what would’ve happened to the four of them if it hadn’t been for her. Both of their parents had been only children, so Gran was their only relative. He didn’t want to think about when she wasn’t with them any longer, but seeing her here, so tiny and
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