Take Your Time (Boston Love #4)(37)

Shit.

I’m about to ask about the breed — I think it’s a dachshund, but I don’t know much about dogs so I could be off base — when Duncan’s stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead. (But not the puppy: he’s out like a light, snoozing on my feet. I can feel a puddle of slobber forming on my skin as we speak.)

I lift my eyes away from the slumbering beast and quirk my head in question.

“Hungry?”

“Starved, actually. You have any food in this joint?” Duncan glances around the apartment, eyes widening as he finally takes in the sight of the boxes scattered everywhere. “By the way, why is all your shit packed? Are you moving?”

“Yep.”

“Thought you loved this place.”

“I do.”

“So, why the move?”

Clenching my hands into fists, I try to think zen thoughts so I don’t scream at the top of my lungs about him being the reason for my unwanted change of address. We’ve only just stopped bickering — I’d like to see if we can make it a solid ten minutes before we start up again.

“You know, I actually don’t have any food here,” I murmur, ignoring his question. “Give me a second, I’ll throw on some real clothes and we can go grab something. There’s a cute cafe around the corner with great croissants—”

“No!” His loud yell makes my eyes go wide. The puppy’s tiny head shoots up in alarm.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “If you don’t want croissants we can go someplace else—”

“No,” Duncan says again, calmer this time, but I see his face has drained of all color. He glances over his shoulder toward my front door, as if afraid there’s someone waiting for him on the other side. “Let’s stay here. I’m not that hungry.”

My brows lift skeptically. “Duncan, what’s going on? The truth, please.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly that’s a lie.”

He closes his eyes and rubs his temples in slow circles, massaging away a migraine. When he opens them, I see fear in his gaze along with desperation. The sight of it shakes me to the soles of my feet.

“I need money,” he says bluntly.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

I blink at him. “You must be joking.”

His jaw clenches. “It’s just a loan.”

“Seriously. Tell me this is a joke.”

“I’ll pay you back, every penny.” His voice is emotionless. “But… I need it Lila. Now. Today. As soon as you can get it to me.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Duncan…”

“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

“How much?”

“A hundred grand,” he says, grimacing.

I can’t help it — I laugh. And laugh. And then I laugh some more, until I’m bent over at the waist, gasping for breath, wiping tears from my eyes. The dog adds to the chorus with a series of squeaky yaps, as if he hasn’t quite figured out how to use his full bark yet.

A hundred grand.

Is my brother insane?

My bout of laughter comes to an abrupt end when a set of hands land on my shoulders and jerk me upright.

“Stop!” Duncan hisses in my face, voice gruff. His eyes are flashing with a scary edge I’ve never seen before. “This isn’t a joke, Lila!”

“Could’ve fooled me.” I snort again. “You show up at my door unannounced and ask me for a hundred thousand dollars more casually than a neighbor wanting to borrow a cup of sugar!” I choke down a sound of hysteria — it could be either a laugh or a sob, it’s hard to tell. “So, yes, I’m still waiting for a punchline, because there’s no way in hell you’re serious right now.”

“I need the money, don’t you understand?” His hands flex so hard on my biceps, I wince in pain. The puppy unleashes a low sound of displeasure.

“You’re hurting me,” I say quietly.

“Sorry.” He drops his hands with an apologetic look and runs them through his mussed hair. “I’m sorry, Lila. I’m just… I don’t know who else to go to for help with this. I’m at the end of my rope. If I don’t get the money in the next few days…”

My eyes are wide. “Why would you possibly need a hundred thousand dollars? What happened, Duncan? Where did all the money Mom and Dad gave you go?”

He’s silent.

I cross my arms over my chest. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I made some faulty investments,” he says tiredly. “The thing is, the loan Mom and Dad gave me wasn’t nearly enough to keep ManScents afloat.”

“Isn’t that why you have investors?”

He nods. “Yes. But between production costs, employee salaries, and our first retail shipments to stores… there was practically nothing left to keep us out of the red. No more money to manufacture new scents, or to market our existing products.” A defeated look twists his face. “The loan from Mom and Dad was great, but I needed at least three times that amount to keep investors from pulling out and production lines from shutting down.”

Foreboding fills my chest. I have a feeling his story is only going to get more upsetting from this point on.