He was just a happy-go-lucky, funny guy who pretty much said and did whatever the fuck he wanted, whenever he wanted. Several years ago, after I’d started to make my money, I’d silently opened a charitable foundation. It operated mostly anonymously. Aldo ran it on my behalf.
Basically, it was his job to keep his eyes and ears open and to approve funding or provide donations to organizations, causes, and people that needed it. We’d developed a set of guidelines for how to decide who to give money to together, but outside of that, I trusted Aldo’s judgment.
He had his finger on the pulse and his mind on the purpose. I wanted to help and give back, and he made sure it got done—with no recognition of me or other fanfare if I could avoid it.
When I got to the restaurant, he was already there. His face split into a wide grin when he saw me, and he pushed a glass of water and a shot of espresso across the table to my seat.
“I took the liberty of ordering this for you. Never know how much time you’re going to have.”
“Thanks.” I slid into my seat and picked up the menu. “I have more meetings this afternoon but only later.”
“Does that mean we’re going to be able to finish our food before you have to take off this time?”
I lifted my eyes from the options on offer and rolled them. “That was one time. You have to let it go.”
“Nope.” He smirked as he laid a cloth napkin over his lap. “I plan on milking it for as long as I possibly can.”
“Yeah?” I tilted my head and studied him. A familiar calculating yet mischievous gleam had entered his eyes, and it spelled trouble for me. “Milking it how?”
“I’m training for a marathon, and training by myself is boring. I was hoping I could convince you to join me.”
“I have too much work. I don’t have time to train for a marathon right now. You’re on your own, buddy.”
He pouted and folded his arms across his chest. “Everyone needs a break from work to blow off some steam. This could be it for you.”
“If I wanted a break from work to blow off some steam, I wouldn’t take that break by training for a marathon.” I was all for exercise, but I’d never really gotten the point of a marathon. “Besides, I couldn’t take a break right now even if I wanted to.”
“What if I told you I had a plan to cut our training time in half?”
I arched an eyebrow and tucked my chin closer to my chest. “How would we do that?”
“You could start the marathon and dip off somewhere around the halfway point. I could finish it. It’s a win-win.”
“No, it’s a cheat-cheat.” I sighed, shaking my head as I went back to studying the menu. “The old switch got old back in high school, brother. We’re not doing it.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you the marathon was for a good cause?”
“Nope.” I decided on my lunch and set the menu down on the one side of the table, then looked around until I caught the eye of a server. “If you think it’s a good idea to support the cause, just donate money to them.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Why not? It’s the same to them. In fact, they’ll probably get more money from a donation than a marathon entry fee. Especially if we only pay for one person.”
He exhaled a deep breath, but he was feigning his disappointment. “Fine. You might have a point. I’m still going to do it, though. A marathon is a great way to meet people.”
“It is?” I frowned. “Also, since when do you have trouble meeting people?”
“I don’t.” Another smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “But I’m bored with the same old routine. I’m over meeting people on the club scene or at a bar. I think I need me some fit friends.”
“You already have fit friends,” I reminded him. “We box at the gym three nights a week, we swim, and we spend almost every weekend in winter skiing.”
“But it’s not winter now.” He wagged his eyebrows at me. “We need something to replace the skiing. Running is good for you.”
“I know. I run every morning.” I noticed a waiter walking up to us. We ordered our food, and once the server was gone, I turned my attention back to my brother. “I’ll be there to support you, but I don’t want any part in your shenanigans.”
“No one would ever know we switched. Come on, man. It’s been too long since we’ve taken advantage of being identical.”
“There’s a good reason for that.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“We’re not sixteen anymore,” I said, plucking a breadstick out of the basket in the center of the table. “It was fun while it lasted, though.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. How fun it used to be. We need to have some fun. Or rather, correction. You need to have some fun. I have fun all the time.”
“So do I,” I argued, but it wasn’t exactly true. In fact, the most fun I’d had recently was that conversation I’d had with Addy at the club.
Aldo gave me a knowing look but stopped bugging me about it. My brother knew when to push me and when he was wasting his time. This was an example of the latter.
For the rest of our lunch, we got caught up and discussed some possible new causes he wanted to look into for the foundation. When I got back to the office, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw a familiar head of blonde hair studying something in her lap.
Addy’s deep blue eyes met mine when she looked up, a determined expression on her face. “Hi, Marco.”
“Hey.” Unfreezing my limbs as I got over my surprise at seeing her there, I closed the distance between
