“Pretty self-evident. It’s right there in the name.Man.Scents.”
My brows lift, still totallyconfused.
“They’re malecandles.”
“I wasn’t aware wax had a gender,” I say in a strangled voice, trying very hard not tolaugh.
He pins me with an exasperated look. “Candles for men, Lila. Man candles. It’s really not thatcomplicated.”
Complicated? No, that’s not the word I’d use to describe this new business venture.Asinine, on theotherhand…
I bite my inner cheek so I don’t start giggling. “And… what do theseman candlessmelllike?”
He hesitates for a beat, jaw ticking like a time bomb. “Our most popular scents areGolf CourseandCrispy Bacon. But we’ve been seeing steady increases in demand forGunpowderandPot Roastover the past few months.Gym Socksalso has a surprisingly strong cultfollowing.”
I try to hold it in, I really do… but I can’t help it. I start cackling like ahyena.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Duncan sounds majorly offended by my mirth. “Great to know I’ve got yoursupport.”
“I’m sorry,” I gasp, trying to get a handle on my meltdown. “I think…” I choke down a snort and try for a somber tone. “I thinkManScentssounds like a genius business idea. Gonna be huge.” Another giggle slips out. “Save me a celebratoryGunpowdercandle to light up when you make your first million. It’ll be like blasting off a cannon in mylivingroom.”
“You don’t have to be abitch.”
“I was beingserious!”
He glares at me. “You’re my family. You’re supposed to believe in me, no matter what. Guess it was ridiculous to assume you’d have faith in your own blood,though,huh?”
“Duncan…” I sigh, feeling my amusement flee. I don’t want to crush his dreams, but bygod,the man needs a reality check. “Maybe it would be different if this was the first time we’d had this conversation about your big, new business idea… about how it’s so radicallydifferentthan all the others that failed before it… about howthis oneis the one that’s finally going to make it big…” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but we both know that’s just not the case. I wish you all the best, I truly do, but the fact that we share DNA doesn’t guarantee I’ll put blind trust in every one of your ventures. Especially when I’ve been burned inthepast.”
“I realize some of my past ideas haven’t panned out but I swear, Lila, thisoneis—”
“Different?” I cut him off. “I know. They always are… untilthey’renot.”
He glowers. I know he’d love to contradict me, but he can’t. Deep down, he knows I’mright.
“If I’d known you were going to be such a bitch, I wouldn’t have flown three thousandmiles.”
“If being honest makes me a bitch, I guess I’m a bitch.” I shrug. “Trust me, I’d love to believe you aboutManScents. I hope it’s a huge success. I’m your sister — I support you, I believe in you. But it can’t be unconditional, Duncan.” My tone gentles, to soften the blow of what comes next. “Trusting your word when it comes to where I should investment my money feels less like a leap of faith and more like a free-fall off the side of a cliff. Onto jagged rocks. In shark infestedwaters.”
“Oh, fuck you, Lila.” His expression clouds over into a dark scowl. “Clearly I was an idiot to come here, thinking you might help youronlysibling.” He pauses and his voice drops low. “Isn’t that what we promised each other, after her funeral? That we’d always be there for each other, now that it’s just the two ofusleft?”
Iflinch.
“Wow. Playing the Mimi card already?” My whisper is stark. “Guess your deck is stacked pretty low, if you’re already resorting to emotionalblackmail.”
His face crumples a bit, when I say that, and I swear it sends a lance straight through my chest cavity. As pissed as I am at Duncan — and, trust me when I tell you, I’ve been seeing red for weeks — it still pains me to see him hurt. More so when I’m the one causinghimpain.
“I’m sorry.” He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I shouldn’t have gone there. Shouldn’t have broughtherup.”
I shrug. “I’m not the one who refuses to talk about her. You’re confusing me with our parents. They’re so adept at dodging emotionally-charged discussions, fuckboys all over the world should take classesfromthem.”
He snorts. “As if you’re a barrel of free hugs. When was the last time you actually had a conversation with someone about anything of substance, littlesister?”
Just yesterday, in fact. But you’d never believe me, if I told you who I haditwith…
“You know me,” I murmur instead, the white lie familiar on my tongue. “The good time girl — I’m style over substance, wheneverpossible.”
He stares at me with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry I called you abitch.”