Page 38 of Duke, Actually

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Page 38 of Duke, Actually

“What does your brother do? Is he also a lie-about?”

“No, he works for the mining company.”

“For real? Or is he just on the books?”

“He’s legitimately employed there. We have a non-family CEO, but my brother is the executive vice-chairman and chief science officer, and he sits on the board.”

“Wow, a genuine passion for mining.”

“It would seem so.” Though to hear Sebastien and Father over the holidays, it sounded as though Seb’s passions lay more in this “garden project.” Max had no idea what that meant. He probably hadn’t been paying attention at some point. He couldn’t give a damn about Father, but he didn’t used to be the kind of person who ignored his brother.

“Okay, how about this?” Dani said. “Let’s make a plan to eachdo one small thing toward our resolutions this week. First week of the new year—baby steps toward divorce and job.”

He could get behind this. But the phrasenew yearmade him remember his point in calling her. He pulled his phone from his ear momentarily to check the time. It was quarter past six. “Oh, damn it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I got distracted by my ‘woe is me’ routine. And by telling the true story of the Depraved Duke. I was going to make you do a countdown.”

“Eh, it’s fine.”

“All right, well, this is our year, then?”

“Yes. The year of divorces and jobs,” she said through a chuckle. “Doesn’t sound that glamorous when you put it like that.”

“It’s going to be good.” For the first time in a long time, he believed it—that the future was going to be good.

She yawned. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

He felt like he could probably sleep now. He wished he could get the artist out of his room, but he could hardly wake her and ask her to leave. Perhaps he would go sleep on the sofa. “Happy New Year, Dani.”

“Happy New Year, Max.”

Chapter Seven

When he got back to Riems, Max invited Sebastien to the cottage for lunch.

“What’s wrong?” Seb said after they tucked into slices of tomato-leek galette.

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

“You’ve never invited me here for a meal before. So either there’s something wrong or you want something from me. And usually when you want something from me, you text. I’m left to conclude that something is wrong.”

Well, that stung. But Max could not deny any of it. He hadn’tintendedit, but that hardly mattered. He studied his brother. They had been close as children, conspiring to run wild on the mountain any time they could escape the schoolroom—and Father. It had been easier to dodge Father in the early years. Father ascribed to the philosophy that children should be neither seennorheard, so apart from dinner every evening, the boys had rarely crossed paths with him. When they weren’t doing lessons, they’d been free to play “two-man up-mountain footie,” whichfootball-crazed Max had invented, and the pretend games Seb preferred without parental interference.

It wasn’t until they got a little older that Father started taking an interest. And by “taking an interest,” Max meant destroying toys of Seb’s he deemed too feminine. Or seizing an apple strudel Seb had helped the cook make and hurling it against the wall in the dining room.

And then Max had refused to go to boarding school. What a row that had been. In addition to guaranteeing his presence at home, that blowout had taught him the efficacy of diversionary tactics. Being a bigger disappointment than Seb was a surprisingly effective strategy for drawing his father’s attention—and anger.

But somehow, that early closeness between the boys, that sense of being allies, had faded away. Max studied his brother, really looked at him, for the first time in a while. Sebastien still had the close-cropped hair and too-big nose of his youth, but gone was the easy smile that used to be his signature.

“You’re right,” Max said, needing to clear his throat. “I don’t treat you well.” It was an uncomfortable thing to admit, to confront within himself, especially given that the first ten years of Seb’s life, everything Max had done had been in service of Seb. It was just so frustrating that after all Max had done to get Seb out, Seb boomeranged right back. Still, they werebrothers. “I’m sorry. It has to stop. It’sgoingto stop.” Max continued to study Seb, who had the same blue eyes as Max—except Seb’s had gone wide with shock. “I did ask you here because I wanted something from you. I’d like your advice if you’re willing to give it.”

Max wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Seb’s eyes grew even wider.

“I want to get a job, but I have no idea how to do that.”

Seb switched to blinking rapidly, and Max chuckled. “I hoped you’d give me your thoughts, seeing as you’re the gainfully employed brother.”




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