A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain #1)(85)

“It’s set up exactly how you asked,” a familiar voice said from behind me.

My jaw flexed with recognition. I should have locked the damn doors.

“It’s great,” I said, turning toward the helicopter instead of my brother. “Did you get all the equipment Ramos asked you for?”

“It’s here.” Reed walked over and stood at my side.

He had an inch on me, but what I lacked in height I more than made up for in muscle. He’d spent his years in boardrooms, and I’d spent mine in the gym or flying. We had the same dark hair and eyes, the same chin, and definitely got our dad’s ears, but that’s where the resemblance stopped.

“You look good,” Reed said, giving me a once-over.

“Thanks. War was great for my complexion. You look…” I spared a glance over his slacks and Patagonia vest to his perfectly coiffed hair. “Polished.”

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“It’s not.” I shrugged.

Reed scoffed. “I left the share agreement on your desk. You know, the one that gives you an increased stake for every year you’re at Madigan.”

I grunted. I wasn’t here for the shares and we both knew it.

He tilted his head in examination as he stared at the helicopter. “I thought you’d go with something more like what they’re using in Telluride. The Eurocopter—”

“Has a five-passenger limit and one engine for over two million,” I countered. “This triples that capacity with two engines at just under three million. And you signed off on it, remember?” The thrum of a familiar engine filled the hangar from outside. Maria had made it.

“I did.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Still, the hourly costs—”

I muttered a curse. “Am I talking to my brother or my business partner?”

His head snapped in my direction. “Will you talk to your brother? Because the only communications I’ve had with you for the last decade have been family business and this helicopter.”

I ignored the jab. “This is a Bell 212 HP-BLR. It’s been structurally overhauled and rewired within the last year, and yes, that’s fresh paint. It has less than ten thousand hours on the body and comes complete with gear cage”—I pointed to the long wire basket along the fuselage—“and rescue hoist.” I gestured toward the lift. “It has seating capacity for fourteen, and did I mention a second engine just in case that first one goes out?”

Reed rolled his eyes. “Weston—”

“Now the Eurocopter does have an operating cost that’s down around $875 an hour, and the Bell is going to take that up to $1,508, but even if we operate only at the Eurocopter’s capacity, we’re still going to profit about three grand a day.”

Reed opened his mouth, and I ran him over.

“Now, the Eurocopter is going to profit about $4,600 a day as long as they only book at five people. But the second they go to six, they have to take a second helicopter, and they won’t just book it for that one. They have a minimum of three. So let’s go with eight, just for fun.” I crossed my arms in front of me. “So, for eight people, our profit is seven grand a day and theirs is—wait for it—$6,300 a day because they have to eat the hourly costs for the second helicopter, and that’s before the cost of an additional pilot. We don’t have that issue. Every person over three is profit for us, and we can take parties of four or five. They won’t. You’re not the only one in the family who can do math. Oh, and did you hear the part about the second engine? Trust me, you’d care if you were the one flying it.”

Reed took a measured breath. “Damn, Weston, I wasn’t saying you made a bad choice.”

“No, you were just second-guessing it.” Like he always did.

“It’s a lot of money! And that thing is huge. Do you even think you can put it down on the ridgelines?”

“If I can put wheels down on the edge of a bombed-out building in a war zone to load up a platoon of soldiers, then I’m pretty damn sure I can handle some tourists in the snow.” I turned to face my brother, looking into his eyes for the first time in years. “You’re the one who asked me to come back and get this operation running. You called me, Reed. If you’d like to get behind the controls, then feel free, but flying up at this altitude is more complicated than the hostile takeovers you’re used to—”

“That isn’t even what I do—”

“Facilitating in those boardrooms of yours.”

“For fuck’s sake, this is getting us nowhere.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Have you always been this much of an asshole?”

“Yes.” That shut him up.

A couple seconds passed in awkward silence, and we both cracked a reluctant smile.

“I guess you’re not in the mood to hear, ‘Welcome home’?” Reed asked slowly.

“Just tell me he’s not here and I’ll consider that welcome enough.” Seeing Reed was one thing, but handling our father? Fuck that. Not today.

“No. He’s off cruising the world for his honeymoon.” Reed sucked in a breath. “You know, he’s really changed these last—”

“Not interested.” Dad had sealed his fate with me years ago when he’d disappeared into himself after Mom died and left me to raise Crew. Reed leaving us to fend for ourselves while he moved to Vermont for college had been a dick move, but Dad’s abandonment? My fists clenched.