1
Salvatore
It is unfortunate that you’ve gotten the impression we’ve—
No, that was too combative, putting the blame on them for having a bad impression. Deleting it, Salvatore tried again.
I assure you that the McLintoc Miller brand is still on course and united—
No, that was a blatant lie, and one that was easy to disprove.
Growling, Sal slammed his laptop shut, his desk groaning in response as he pushed himself away.
He hated writing emails, he hated sales, and he was pretty sure he hated his brothers for getting him into the mess in the first place.
But noooo, Solomon had to get up on whatever fancy horse he was on and refuse to work with one of their long-time contracted companies that they sold manure to. Something about harmful chemicals? Or worker abuse? Sal couldn’t keep track. It seemed like every week his brother was trying to save the world this way, or improve morale that way, and he just couldn’t stand it anymore.
Sal had liked the way things were before his family had started falling apart. He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but one minute Samuel announced he wasn’t coming back home, and the next minute, three of his other brothers had turned into some bleeding heart, environmental mumbo-jumbo-touting enthusiasts.
He didn’t get it.
Sure, things hadn’t been perfect, and sure, Sal had been a periphery son at that, fit for errands and any task that needed intimidation. But he’d been fine with that. He liked his family’s lifestyle. He appreciated how hard his father had worked to build their ranching empire, and he didn’t appreciate how his brothers were beginning to sound like poor folks, always blaming someone else for their problems. Never willing to take responsibility and always wanting handouts…
His temper spiked up again and then he was on his feet, walking from his wing to the kitchen. Sure, maybe food wouldn’t cure his problems, but it sure wouldn’t hurt. Besides, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t work it off in the gym later.
Then again… he had a lot less gym time since he’d started taking over multiple responsibilities from his brothers. Because hey, if they were going to jeopardize their position in the family, at least Sal could take advantage of it.
… he just wished those responsibilities involved fewer emails. He never was very good at writing. Gym class had certainly been his strong suit.
If only life was as simple as it were in high school.
Granted, when he’d actually been that age, Sal had been the smallest and reediest of all his siblings. Even Simon had stood at least a couple of inches taller and broader than him. But he’d finally hit the standard Miller growth spurt in his senior year, and then he got involved in bodybuilding, and then he hadn’t stopped growing until he was twenty-three.
Sometimes, Sal still saw himself as that tiny boy, the smallest of all his brothers. Now he was the biggest, but that didn’t seem to earn him much respect.
It didn’t help that Simon was still off on his world-traveling thing. That had been a real wild fight, right in the middle of Simon’s graduation party. Sal was pretty sure that his younger brother had done that on purpose, as the furor stopped pretty much everyone from addressing him directly.
As it were, his cousins to the north and cousins to the west had cut off almost all of their contact with Dad. They didn’t bother to talk to Sal much either, but he wasn’t sure if that was because he never was close with them or because they knew he was trying to help Dad keep the business on track.
Besides, he’d never really liked the western cousins. One son and four daughters from the youngest brother on his Dad’s side, and they were all… grouchy? Sal wasn’t sure that was the right word for it, but there was a certain standoffishness to them. Like they were always judging his family for everything.
He reached the kitchen, wondering if any of Mom’s pecan pie was still left. But as he walked through the open door, he realized that one of the twins was there with all three of the low-class women who seemed to have invaded the ranch as of late. The tiny, trampy one, the redheaded mechanic who needed to wear looser clothing, and the tall veterinarian who needed to smile more. Sal had heard his dad rant about them at length, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the three were part of some sort of