Bachelor Swap - Lacey Black Page 0,7
one to compare it to.
My point is I have a decision to make where Matthew is concerned, and I’m hoping tonight will help me decide one way or the other.
Do we move forward or do I move on without him?
Chapter Three
Mason
I scan the document in front of me, with a critical eye. When I get to the bottom, I glance at my twin. “Are you serious?”
Matthew doesn’t so much as flinch. “You need the money, and I have it.”
“But…you want me to be you?”
He nods once. “For three weeks. It should be a walk in the park.”
“A walk in the park? Seriously? I know nothing about running a business like yours, Matthew,” I argue, reaching for the glass, only to find I’ve already emptied it.
“Or any business, if your financial situation is any indication,” he retorts, hitting directly below the belt.
“Fuck you.”
He just gives me a half grin and relaxes farther into his chair. “Do you have another way of securing one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Mason? I don’t see another bank anywhere in the United States touching this with a ten-foot pole. The beef market is shit right now, which means you have cattle you can’t sell for profit. How long has this been going on?”
I refuse to answer, mostly because he already knows the answer. If my brother has found out about the lack of loans and the debt already incurred, he knows more than he’s letting on. So instead of pacifying him, I just return his stare.
“I’m told the market projection is on the upturn, but in the meantime, you have a debt owed and no way of paying it.”
The bastard gets even more comfy, as if he’s not talking about my livelihood. I’m well aware the market tanked and is expected to rebound this fall, but the damage is already done. I’ve cut costs wherever I can. My only help is a seventeen-year-old kid who lives a few miles away. He comes over and helps whenever I need it, which I try to keep to a minimum. I manage the day-to-day aspects of maintaining the fifteen-hundred head herd, but everything else has gone to shit. I’ve sold off everything I could, including the horses and other small animals I had. The barns are in need of some TLC, but the money isn’t there yet to maintain them. It’s been a rough year, to say the least.
When my brother realizes I’m not going to answer, he sits up and rests his elbows on the desk. “You need one hundred and fifty K. I have it. I’m willing to throw in an extra fifty if you help me out.”
“By pretending to be you for three weeks.” It’s not a question.
“Yes.”
I sigh and rub my thumb between my eyes. I have a massive headache starting, and it has nothing do to with traveling today and everything to do with the weight on my shoulders. It has followed me to Boston and is staring me straight in the face in the form of my twin. “What exactly do I have to do?”
My brother gives me the full wattage of his smile now. He knows he has me. Hell, he knew the moment I boarded the plane.
“I’ve lived in this building for almost a year. The contacts I’ve made and secured because of it were exactly the reasons I fought so hard to get into this place.”
“What’s so special about it?” I ask, recalling the sterile environment I walked into.
Now, his grin turns wolfish. “The Tower. It was originally owned by Garry F. Brockton. I was personally invited to live here after we met last year. Unfortunately, he passed away recently, and now the building is owned by his niece. She’s making…changes.”
“What kind of changes?” I ask, curiously.
“Until recently, no women live here.”
I blink once, twice, three times, while processing this information. “Until recently?”
“Yes. She allowed the first woman to move into the building not too long ago, and it’s been nothing short of troublesome since. All of the tenants here are male, with money, and all looking to make connections and more money.”
“But I saw a dozen women in the bar when I entered this place,” I tell him.
Matthew just smiles. “And none of them live here. They’re here for the sole purpose of being invited upstairs.”
“Meaning to an apartment.”
Matthew nods.
“Okay,” I start, rubbing the sides of my forehead now. “So what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to oversee the redecorating of my home. It’s too…white.