CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWO
Sunday was the weekly family dinner, not Tuesday night. That hadn’t stopped Michael Patterson from jumping at his mom’s invitation. A second home-cooked meal in three days was worth driving through Charleston’s rush-hour traffic. For over a month, he’d bounced from one friend’s place to another. Eating fast food, takeout, and pizza was getting old. Besides, he wanted to see his parents before he left town for the rest of December.
Michael opened the front door, not bothering to knock. He’d grown up in this house with his brother and two sisters. After he stepped inside, he closed the door.
The sharp pine scent from the decorated tree in the corner and the faint smell of smoke from the wood burning in the fireplace hung on the air. Only Christmas carols were missing. Not hearing the music was strange. His mom played them nonstop until December twenty-sixth.
As he entered the living room, Michael froze, surprised to see all his family. They sat on the two couches and chairs: his mom and dad; Mason, Ashleigh, and baby Monroe; Madison and Rory; and Marley and Von.
Michael hadn’t expected his parents to invite his three siblings and their significant others. That never happened during the week, but maybe his mom was trying out a new recipe and wanted everyone’s opinion. It wasn’t a problem. The Patterson family motto was
the more, the merrier
. This would save him from texting each of his siblings about going out of town for Christmas.
With a grin, he adjusted his baseball cap. “If I’d known everyone would be here, I would have worn something other than sweats and a hoodie.”
A joke, because he’d worn that most days since he’d lost his job.
No one laughed or smiled.
Weird
. His family looked like wax figures from that tourist attraction up north.
Unease trickled along his spine. “Everything okay?”
His dad motioned to an empty chair. “Take a seat, Mikey.”
He’d been Mikey for as long as he could remember, but the nickname bristled. Still, it beat “big baby” or “big boy.” Even though he was the youngest of the four kids, his siblings called him their “big” brother because of his six-foot-three height and broad shoulders. His athletic build had come in handy playing sports through college, and he still enjoyed working out. It also paid off because dressing up like a superhero for Halloween made all the pretty ladies want to flirt and take selfies with him and his shield.
As Michael sat, he glanced at the clock on the wall.
I’m not late
.
So why was everyone staring at him like he wore two different shoes? A glance at his feet showed they were the same, but his socks were different colors.
No one spoke, but they kept looking at him.
“Seriously, guys. You’re freaking me out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s going on?”
Baby Monroe slept soundly in Mason’s arms and appeared fine. No one looked sick or injured. Yet they remained silent.
“Mom?”
His mother fingered the edges of her apron. Something she did only when nervous. She inhaled deeply before exhaling. “Have you found a new job?”
Oh, great
. The stop-messing-up-your-life lecture was coming. Again. He guessed the weekly “you’re a loser” talks weren’t enough for them. “No.”
Which they should have known since they’d discussed this on Sunday night—forty-eight hours ago.
His dad crossed his arms. “You’ll have to explain the gap in your resume.”
Michael swallowed a sigh. This had to be the hundredth time he’d said this, but he would say it again. “The company went under. It isn’t my fault I lost my job.”
He wished his family understood that. Instead, they viewed him as Mikey, the twenty-seven-year-old man-child who partied too much on weekends and lost his job when the start-up he’d worked at for three years folded. He’d loved his position in the marketing department. He’d been promoted twice and, on occasion, helped code, too. But the founders—two tech guys—had mismanaged everything so badly the investors had salvaged what they could before walking away.
Being unemployed, however, had been a blessing. Just one he couldn’t share with anyone.
Yet
.
Still, he needed to tell his family something, even if it wasn’t what they wanted to hear.
“I’m keeping my eyes open.” Not a lie. Occasionally, he checked the job listings online and thanked his lucky stars he would never work for someone else again. “Trust me. Everything will turn around in the new year.”
“Have you found a place to live?” Mason asked.
“Not yet.” Michael hadn’t renewed his lease. Extreme, perhaps, but he didn’t want to raise suspicions if he wanted a different place in January. Not having a job had given him the perfect excuse to move out. “I’m staying with Tristan.”
For now
.
Madison’s eyebrows knotted. “I thought you were over at Isaac’s?”
“That was last week.”
“What about Brendan?” Rory asked.
Marley’s mouth quirked. “You were at Colton’s for a few days.”
The shared glances flying around the room made Michael’s hands clammy. He rubbed them against his sweats. “I’ve stayed with each one of them.”
His father brushed his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Aren’t you a little old to be couch-surfing?”
Michael fought the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s temporary, Dad. If you’re worried about my living situation—”
“We’re worried about you, Mikey.” The words rushed out of Marley’s mouth.
Von held her hand but said nothing.
Ashleigh nodded.
Madison leaned forward. “You were laid off in September, and you still don’t have a job. Rory offered you one, and so did Von.”
“I thanked them, but those jobs weren’t right for me.” Michael envisioned his perfect life. Soon, it would be his. “As I said, things will turn around in the new year.”
And in a big way.
One day, he’d been laid off, handed a lousy severance package, and escorted out of the building with his personal belongings in a box that had once held copier paper. The following afternoon, when he normally would have been at work, he’d bought a candy bar and a lottery ticket at a corner convenience market. That night, his ticket not only matched all the numbers, but it was also the only winner of a seven-hundred-million-dollar jackpot.
Unbelievable but true.
Now accountants, financial planners, and attorneys worked for him. Fortunately, he could claim his prize anonymously since he lived in South Carolina, but his team was doing the legwork so no one could track the money to him. A trust was involved, maybe two, because he wanted to make sure his family, especially sweet little Monroe and any future nieces and nephews, were safe from kidnappers and whoever else preyed on the wealthy.
Michael didn’t care how much
that
cost him.
Even if it meant having those he loved most in the world think he was a complete loser for another month or so. He was keeping quiet for all their sakes. The lawyers had been crystal clear about what happened to many lottery winners and why few, if any, people should know about the jackpot.
Even so, people were trying to figure out the winner’s identity. A fired cashier from the winning convenience store had stolen a security camera video of people, including Michael, buying lottery tickets. The footage surfaced two days ago on the internet, but thankfully, he’d worn sunglasses and a beanie. Those things and the beard he’d grown since losing his job made him unrecognizable. But others from the footage had stepped forward to say they weren’t the winner.
That was why his high-priced attorney from New York had told him to stay out of Charleston until the new year. That was when a representative of the trust planned to turn in the ticket and claim the prize money, but Michael had wanted to see his parents before he took off. He just hadn’t expected an interrogation to be on tonight’s dinner menu.
“It’s going to be fine,” he added.
“You keep saying that, but you have no place to live and no job.” His mom wrung her hands. “We want you to know how much we love and accept you.”
Mason nodded. “You’re the best younger big brother ever.”
That made no sense, but whatever. Michael smiled at him. “Thanks, bro.”
“You always know when to show up with a pizza and a six-pack,” Madison added.
His dad nodded. “You’ve been a binge drinker for a while now.”
Huh
? Michael stiffened. “I wouldn’t say that. I don’t party nearly as much as I used to.”
His father’s jaw tensed. “But you still do. Drink, that is.”
Marley cleared her throat. “What Dad means is we’re concerned you’ve been drinking too much and possibly doing more since you lost your job.”
“Are you drinking and doing drugs?” his mom blurted.
Say what
? Michael stared at each person who showed the same concern and… fear. His heart dropped.
Forget this being an interrogation.
This was an intervention.
How had this happened? Why was this happening? “No. Of course not.”
“I saw your second cell phone on Sunday. Is that how you call your dealer?”
“I don’t have a dealer.” His temperature rose. Sweat beaded his hairline. He used the extra phone to contact his team, and it would become his permanent one after they collected the money, so he had better control of who had the number. This was all part of the attorney’s plan, who had worked with big lottery winners for years. But his family didn’t know that.
They couldn’t know that.
Not yet.
As he dragged his hand through his hair, Michael considered what to say. This would be laughable, except they were so serious. “I appreciate the concern, but I promise I’m not doing drugs or drinking too much.”
“That’s what addicts say,” Madison mumbled. “I’ve seen you drunk.”
Rory kissed her forehead.
Seriously
?
They’re really going to do this
. Michael blew out a breath.
“And I’ve seen everyone in this room except Von drunk, including Mom and Dad, yet you don’t see me accusing any of you of being…” He couldn’t say it. “I drink a beer now and then. More on the weekends, but it’s always been like that. I’m not a drunk or a druggie.”
A vein throbbed on his dad’s neck. “Your recent lifestyle suggests otherwise, especially sleeping somewhere different almost every other night.”
“My friends aren’t kicking me out.” The words rushed out of Michael’s mouth. He was compelled to defend himself, even if they were dead wrong. “I don’t want to take advantage of anyone.” And he planned to reward their generosity once he had his winnings.
“You could stay here,” Mom offered.
He stifled a groan. “I’m too old to move back home. And there’s no need for anyone to keep tabs on me.”
Madison leaned forward. “Your eyes aren’t bloodshot.”
“Of course not. The last drink I had was here on Sunday night. It’s none of your business, but I haven’t taken so much as a pain reliever in months.”
Once again, glances passed around the room.
This is unreal
. “Do you want me to pee in a cup? Take a blood test? Because I get the feeling that’s what you’ll need to believe me.”
“That’s not funny, Mikey.” His father’s nostrils flared. “This is serious. We’ve checked into rehab centers and found space for you in one. We’ll pay—”
“Unnecessary.” He glanced at Von. “Please, help me out here. Your sister’s boyfriend is an alcoholic, right?”
Von nodded. “Josh is sober and doing well.”
“Happy to hear that, but it makes you the most experienced with this. Does anything in my behavior suggest I’m drunk or high or have a problem?” Michael asked him.
Von glanced at Marley, who nodded. “No, and I mentioned that to everyone before you arrived.”
Relief surged through Michael. At least someone was on his side.
“You show up on time. You haven’t lost weight. You’re dressing the same way you always have, other than the beard,” Von continued. “And you don’t smell like alcohol.”
“Thank you.” Except his future brother-in-law appeared to be the only one who believed Michael.
Part of him wanted to tell everyone the truth, but if word slipped out—accidentally at a holiday party or Christmas celebration—it would ruin all the plans his team was putting in place. If he collected the jackpot anonymously, people, including strangers, wouldn’t ask for money. His family wouldn’t be the target of scammers out to make a buck or steal from them. Monroe wouldn’t need a bodyguard to keep some lunatic from taking him.
His mom’s knee bounced. “If you’re really okay and this is all a… misunderstanding, why won’t you come with us to North Carolina for Christmas?”
Because I would have zero privacy and be unable to keep in touch with the people who are setting everything up for me
. This was a critical time, and he wanted to be available if needed. Michael hated withholding the truth from her—from everyone. “There’s stuff I need to do.”
His mom’s shoulders drooped. “What stuff is so important it requires you to be alone for the holidays?”
This year was the first time the Patterson clan—including aunts, uncles, and cousins—wouldn’t gather for Christmas in Charleston. Everyone was spending the holidays with their in-laws who’d been ignored for…
Well, forever
.
His parents were spending the holidays with his mom’s family in Asheville, while Mason and Monroe would travel with Ashleigh to Savannah. Madison was heading with Rory and his family to Colorado. Marley and Von were meeting his twin sister, Hope, and their parents in Berry Lake, Washington, to be with Josh Cooper and his family.
Michael preferred spending the next few weeks on his own, preparing for his new life. And though his team wouldn’t be with him per se, they had web meetings and calls all the time. Which gave him an idea—one that might appease his mom. “Who said I’d be alone?”
Silence fell over the room. The only sound was the crackling wood in the fireplace.
Madison closed her gaping mouth. “Do you finally have a girlfriend?”
“I never said that.”
“But your friends will be with their families over the holidays,” Marley said.
“Who is she?” Ashleigh asked, her eyes full of curiosity.
“I bet she has blond hair and is a foot shorter than you,” Madison said.
“Of course, she’s petite and has blond hair,” Ashleigh agreed.
Marley nodded. “Mikey has a definite type.”
“But what about the second phone?” his mom asked.
Once again, his lottery win provided the answer—a truthful one. “I’m using it for business. That way I don’t miss any calls, and I didn’t have to make my voice mail greeting professional.”
Mason nodded. “Yeah, those burps you have on there wouldn’t go over well if someone wanted to set up an interview.”
Suddenly, everyone talked over each other, laughing about their intervention and showing the same relief Michael felt. From addicted to attached in minutes. A good thing he loved them so much, but they
could
drive a person to drink.
The only problem?
There wasn’t a girlfriend. Nor would there be one soon.
He didn’t want to date or fall in love. Not with so many things changing in his life. And once he had the money, Michael had no idea how that might work. He didn’t want to make someone he liked sign an NDA before they went out. Trust would be a big issue. Insurmountable, even.
But if his family wanted to believe he’d met a woman, so be it—and in his defense, he worked with three women on his team. The dates on his calendar were for calls or meetings, not dinner or a movie, but no one needed to know that.
Finally, his family quieted.
“Do you want to stay at the house over Christmas?” The tight lines had disappeared from his mom’s face.
Michael wished that were an option, but he had to get out of Charleston. “I’m thinking of driving to Myrtle Beach.”
“That’s too far. Why not spend the holidays in Indigo Bay?” Von asked. “You can stay at my house.”
Marley straightened. “That’s a great idea.”
Von nodded. “We leave on the eighteenth for Berry Lake and we’ll be back on the thirty-first in time to host the Pattersons’ New Year’s Eve party.”
“You told me you love the place,” Marley added as if Michael needed any convincing.
Von was a contractor. He’d remodeled the beachfront cottage in Indigo Bay after buying it from his parents, who were living in an RV and visiting every state.
A free place to stay less than an hour away? That should be far enough away from Charleston to give him anonymity. Michael smiled. “That would be great, but will Hope mind?”
“She’s already in Washington, so the place will be empty.” Von flashed an encouraging smile. “When we spoke the other day, she mentioned something about finding a house sitter before the call dropped. It’s fine. You can use my bedroom.”
“This will be awesome.” And cheaper than renting a place or booking a room somewhere, since Michael had a credit card, but cash was tight. He’d used his severance check to cover the initial retainer for his team. “Text me what you want done while you’re away, and I’ll take care of it, including getting things for the party.”
Von grinned. “That would be great. I’ll also need you to bring in the mail and water a few plants. I’ll leave the Wi-Fi password on the kitchen counter. You can help yourself to whatever food is there. Not that there’s much with Hope away.”
“I can feed myself.” Even if he ended up living off frozen pizzas and ramen since he wasn’t much of a cook. “I appreciate it.”
“I hung lights and garland on the front of the house and the rear deck, but we didn’t put up a tree since we won’t be there on the twenty-fifth.”
As Marley side-eyed Von, she pointed to the tree in the corner. “Neither will my parents, yet they have one.”
Von kissed her. “I can put one up before we leave.”
“It’s fine,” Michael said. “I don’t need a tree.”
“Mikey.” His mom’s tone held a warning. “You love trees.”
This wasn’t worth fighting over. “I can get one myself.”
“We have decorations in the garage,” Von said. “I’ll leave them by the door in case you want to use them.”
Michael’s gut instinct was to say no, but that wouldn’t go over well with his mother. “Thanks.”
“Yes, thank you so much.” Relief shone in his mother’s eyes. She fanned herself. “This evening has turned out better than I’d expected. And I’ll worry less knowing Mikey is at your place than spending the holidays in a dive motel, shooting up somewhere.”
Come January, he would remind his mom of what she just said.
“Me, too,” he joked. “But the next time you plan an intervention, make sure you put out appetizers. I’m starving.”
Everyone laughed.
“Seriously, I appreciate the love, but I’m doing great.” And things would only get better—seven-hundred-million-dollars-minus-taxes better. “Please don’t worry about me at all.”
Come January, Mikey Patterson would shock each one of them.
In the best possible way.