Page 15 of The Refiner

“My ‘cruise,’ as you call it, wasn’t filled with martinis and bikinis. I spent twenty hours most days in the operating room.” I’m dehydrated and likely suffering from a mild case of exhaustion. But instead of going home and sleeping, I’ll end up at the office, checking on my brothers and staff, because that’s all I know how to do—stay busy so I don’t think about calling Piper and canceling our meeting.

“Of course, you did. What a waste.” Remington scoffs sarcastically and shakes his head. “So, Hal said I’m supposed to take you home, but you look like you need a few beers and a smoke first.”

“I’ll pass on the smoke, but a beer sounds good,” I answer as Remington unlocks the car. I’ve never been a smoker, but Remington never misses an opportunity for a smoke break—cigarettes, not weed. However, he won’t turn that down either.

“What’s wrong with you?” He eyes me over the hood of the car. “You get food poisoning from the lobster?”

Food poisoning would have been a blessing, considering the hell I’ve been through. Being part of the Grace of Mercy was as rewarding as it was brutal. It was an excellent way to strip me of the stressors that have plagued me the last few years and reminded me of the man I am at my core.

A craniomaxillofacial surgeon.

The most sought-after plastic surgeon for children in Texas.

A career I’ve managed to neglect for the past few years.

Unlike Vance, nothing catastrophic happened that excused my late arrivals to the office or the lack of leadership required as the oldest brother. No, all that fell to Vance, my middle brother.

He was the one who stepped up and made our father proud by continuing his legacy, rebranding Potter’s Plastics with the intent of being the most distinguished practice in all of Texas.

And he succeeded.

All on his own and without the help of his big brother.

While I was exploring other countries, Vance was making me money.

And then he collapsed last year.

Nothing makes you wake up and realize you’ve been pissing your life away than death.

My brother lost his best friend.

And I nearly lost my brother.

If Halle hadn’t come along, I don’t know that I would be going home, back to a conscious brother who has always been one of my closest friends.

“Earth to Astor.” Remington lets out a bird whistle that grabs my attention. “Should I offer you my bottled water?” He tilts his chin, his gaze turning serious. “Or should I go by the office and let Vance-hole check you out?”

I make a noise in my throat. “While your…concernis appreciated, there will never come a day when Vance will ‘check me out.’” This kid has killed too many brain cells. “Take me home. I’ll get water there.”

“Whatever you say, but just know if Halle asks me how you seemed, I’ll tell her you looked two seconds from crying into my cupholder.”

Vance is right; Remington really should be fired.

“I’ll dock your pay.”

He shrugs. “I don’t work for you.”

Halle has worn off on him.

I get into the car without another word. Really, there’s nothing left to say. I don’t have the energy to keep lying.

My house is cold and empty like I left it, with one noticeable difference.

Remington eyes the paper taped to my front door. “Who’d you piss off?”

Ignoring him, I snag one of the dozen notes and read it.

I hope you’re enjoying your vacation on a yacht, DICK BAG! At this point, I wouldn’t be mad if you wandered too close to the edge and fell. The world could use fewer men like you.

---