“Just take me as far as you can, and I’ll handle it from there. I kinda need to get home.”

“Join the club, dude.” Dylan shoved his way past Southern Boy. “That’s what everyone here wants. Why should we take you with us?”

“Three drivers are better than two. And I’ll pay for a third of the car. Or all of it. Otherwise, I’ll just go with you to the dealership and head out on my own.”

Determined bastard. “Who are you?”

“Wyatt Maitland.”

That figured. Dylan had heard of him. He’d met Wyatt’s cousin Chase last year when the southerner had dated Dylan’s sister. Good family. Wyatt was probably okay. With Ryan in the car for muscle, they could overpower and shove him out on the side of the road if he caused any trouble.

“Like the Wyatt’s Department Stores?” Ryan asked.

“Yep. And National Package Delivery.”

“Cool,” Ryan said. “You got any ID?”

“You’ll see it when I buy the car.”

“I guess we will. Come on then.” Dylan continued toward the exit.

Ryan rubbed his hands together like they were starting an adventure. “Let’s go get a fast car with a screaming sound system.”

Maitland shook his head. “Not a Porsche, Ferrari, or a Maserati.”

“Why not?”

“Too small,” Dylan said, explaining the obvious. “We’ve got a long way to go, and we’re all at least six-feet tall.”

“Especially the walking logo,” Maitland said as they queued up at the taxi stand. “What are you anyway? A bodybuilder?”

“Football player,” Ryan answered. “Stanford wants to recruit me, and I came to LA to practice with the team.” He stuck out his hand for Wyatt to shake. “Ryan Eastham.”

“Then all that Eastham gear you’re wearing isn’t just a coincidence? You’re damn near a human calling card.”

Dylan would have slugged Southern Boy for that comment. But Ryan shrugged it off. “My dad likes for me to wear his company’s stuff. He’s proud of it and of me.”

“I’ll bet he is.”

And he had good reason to be. Over the next two days, Dylan was thankful to Ryan any number of times. No matter what happened or whose temper flared, the football player smoothed things over and calmed all of them down.

As they traveled cross-country in the newly-purchased Lincoln Navigator, they split travel expenses three ways. Tense and nervous the first few hours, the three of them spent more time trying to use their cellphones than they did observing their surroundings and each other.

As horrific as September eleventh turned out to be, by the time they reached Nevada, Dylan had talked to his mom, uncle, and grandfather. His uncle had lost friends at the Pentagon. His grandfather hadn’t been in the Twin Towers, but his brokerage had been wiped out, along with about half of his employees. Dylan took personal comfort in knowing his family members were safe, but he still wanted to get there and see them for himself. And do what he could to help and support one of his home cities, no matter how little help he could provide.

By the time they reached Albuquerque, Ryan admitted he wasn’t just anxious to get back to his team for the upcoming football game. His parents had separated over the weekend, and it looked like they were headed for a divorce. Despite his concern, his usual sunny nature reasserted itself. He predicted that his family would take the hit, but in the end, they would bounce back and be just fine. Just like the country would rebound.

And by the time they reached Winslow, Arizona, even Wyatt loosened up enough to reveal that his father had suffered a massive heart attack and was being kept on life support until all the family had a chance to gather. Turning tragedy into scandal, the heart attack had occurred while the revered judge was handcuffed to his mistress’s bed.

With the worst behind them, the trio talked non-stop of other things. Joking, teasing, bragging, and sharing their opinions on the benefits and drawbacks of being over-privileged sons from renowned families. About how that honor came with expectations and responsibilities most other teenagers could never imagine.

They reached St. Louis to discover that Dylan’s uncle had arranged for his nephew to travel on a military flight to New Jersey. That was close enough for him to get a ride into New York City.

Despite his close relationship with his mother, Ryan moved in with his father, knowing even then that his dad would need his son the most. And the football player kept the car.

Wyatt’s mother had sent her housekeeper’s husband, Jonah, to drive Wyatt to Atlanta. They made it back in time for him to say his final good-bye to his father.

Three boys, each with differing temperaments and backgrounds, but each destined to be a billionaire in a few short years, had formed a friendship. An unbreakable bond.

A brotherhood.

Chapter One

New York City, Present Day

With his head down and mouth clamped shut, Dylan Bradford plunged through the crowd of paparazzi snapping his picture and pelting questions at him outside his apartment building.

“Dylan, where’s Maya?”

“Are you getting married?”

“How do you feel about your mother’s death?”

How did the vultures think he felt? Like planting a right hook in a reporter’s face. Instead, he plunged into the back of the limo as one of them asked, “What are you going to do now?” The chauffeur blocked out the paparazzi’s buzz with a slam of the door.

“What do they expect me to say?” he asked his sister and brother-in-law. “That I’m going to Disney World?” He kissed Natalie’s cheek and reached across her to bump fists with Linc as the car eased into Manhattan’s gridlock traffic.

The asinine questions probably grated on him worse than usual because he didn’t know the answers to some of them. If he wanted his personal life to headline the next edition of supermarket tabloids, he could have announced that his relationship with Maya—if it ever could have been called that—was toast.

But what the hell was he going to do now? More of the same, damn it, when what he needed was a diversion or a challenge... Maybe even a crusade. Some deserving or demanding or hair-raising outlet to channel all this bottled up energy.

“There wasn’t a media circus outside our apartment.” Linc stretched his long legs out in front of him.

Natalie rubbed the baby bump that harbored her second child and made a theatrical grimace. “We just have to face it, honey. We aren’t blessed with my brother’s style, looks, or charisma.”

A stab of sorrow ambushed Dylan as their mother’s sense of mischief haunted him from his younger sister’s blue eyes.

Slouching down in the seat, he pushed the emotion away. God knew the day ahead would be long and difficult enough without breaking out the tissues just yet. “Some blessings carry a curse, you know.”

“It’s being named one of People Magazine’s ten most eligible bachelors that draws all the attention.” Her smile revealed her dimples. “If you really want the press to lose interest, you could marry Maya.”

“Don’t you start on me, too. It’s bad enough when they do it.” Dylan jerked a thumb toward the photographers keeping pace alongside the car.

He loved Natalie and Linc, but he was in no mood to be teased about his pseudo-celebrity status. Especially not by them.

Not their fault they have everything I want. He was happy for them, really, with their successful careers, loving marriage, two-year-old son, and baby girl on the way.

He’d set the same goals for himself once upon a time, but nepotism at its finest meant gaining a partnership in his maternal grandfather’s stock brokerage hadn’t taken much effort. His boredom with the dating scene had him doubting the right woman would ever come along. And that little detail left his hopes for marriage and fatherhood exactly nowhere.