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Dustin clasped his hands behind his back. His father’s will was not something he really wished to discuss, though he knew it was inevitable. It had to be done, and sooner rather than later. Addison was right on that one point, anyway.

Their mother had died when Dustin was fourteen and Addison was sixteen. He remembered her as a sweet, delicate woman who always smiled and always had an eye and an open hand for the poor and needy. She had kept the house full of laughter and singing, and always had a prayer or a song of praise on her lips.

His father, on the other hand, was as cold as stone, a strict disciplinarian who practiced what he preached—that God helped those who helped themselves.

Never mind that that particular “verse” wasn’t really in the Bible.

Addison Fairfax, Sr., had worked long hours establishing the firm Addison Jr. now led and held a majority interest in.

Dustin knew his father had wanted him in the company, as well. Addison Sr. had been bitterly disappointed when, as a young man following his own strong, surging creative impulses, Dustin took a different career path.

To Dustin, being boxed up in an office all day would be like caging a wild beast; and the thought of spending all day crunching numbers—especially anything to do with money—made him shiver.

It was enough just to balance his checkbook every month. That was not the kind of life for him, caged behind a desk with nothing but figures on paper for company.

He wanted to help people, but in another, more creative fashion. One on one, where he could reach out and touch his customers, smile and encourage them to smile back at him.

He pinched his lips together to keep his smile hidden from his brother’s observant gaze. It was an understatement to say that math had never been one of Dustin’s better subjects.

And so now it came down to his father’s last wishes, laid out plainly, literally in black and white. Dustin had been at the formal reading of the will. He knew what it contained, especially in regard to what he was expected to accomplish in order to win the coveted trust fund, which Dustin desperately wanted, but for reasons he would disclose to no one.

At least not yet.

And that was no doubt why Addison was visiting him today. It was up to his big brother, as trustee of the fund in Dustin’s name, to see that Dustin cleaned up, became a pillar of society and made a real contribution to the world in some way not explicitly drawn out in the will, but legal nonetheless.

Dustin knew Addison wasn’t thrilled with the job. He had enough responsibility with his own work without burdening himself with his younger brother’s supposed faults. But there was one thing Dustin knew about his older brother—he would follow his father’s dictates to the letter without question.

Even if Addison didn’t necessarily agree with the terms. Besides, it was legal, drawn up and finalized by their father, who’d known exactly what he was doing.

“You want the money, don’t you?” Addison asked crisply, his golden-blond eyebrows creasing low in concern over his blue eyes, all traits of his father.

Dustin had his mother’s curly black hair and green eyes. It was a startling contrast between the two brothers, and just one more way they were different from one another.

Dustin took a deep, steadying breath. “Yes, I do,” he said solemnly. “You know I do.”

That was as much information as he was willing to offer, which no doubt perplexed his older brother.

“Hey, Addy boy,” he said, cheerfully changing the subject, “you want a soda or something?”

“I’ve asked you repeatedly not to call me that,” his brother responded through gritted teeth, shaking his head in warning.

“Why do you think I do it?” Dustin responded with a laugh.

“You little punk,” Addison said affectionately. He grabbed Dustin around the neck and scrubbed his knuckles across Dustin’s scalp, just the sort of roughhousing they’d done as kids. “Don’t forget I’m bigger than you. I can still knock your block off anytime I want.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Dustin challenged, grabbing his brother by the waist in what amounted to a wrestler’s hold.

Addison sighed and abruptly released his hold on Dustin. “As much as I’d like to monkey around with you, bro, I just don’t have time today. I’m behind on my schedule already just by being here. Can we just get this painful business settled as quickly as possible so I can return to work?”

This business. Was that all it was to Addison? Another piece of business to settle and then move on? It was only Dustin’s life they were talking about.

And so much more. If only Addison knew. But Dustin wasn’t ready to trust his brother with more information than he’d already given.

Dustin felt like no more than a thorn in Addison’s side at times, a trial to be borne through and just as quickly forgotten.

Addison was staring at him. “I’m sorry to say this, little brother, but you need a makeover,” he said soberly, though his eyes were gleaming with amusement at the prospect.

Dustin grinned and crossed his arms over his chest in an instinctively protective gesture. “Oh, like a facial and a mud bath, right? You want me to get a manicure and a massage?”

Addison cleared his throat and looked out the nearest window, gazing for some time before speaking. “This is a very serious matter. You joke about everything,” he said softly.

Dustin shrugged. “Of course. In my book, it’s better to go through life with a smile than to be grouchy all the time.”

“Grouchy? Is that how you see me?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

Dustin shook his head. “I was speaking in relative terms.”

“Yes, well, I’m not sure I believe you, but let us get back to the subject at hand. As it happens, per the will, I’ve hired a girl—”

“No way.” Dustin cut him off with his voice, and concurrently made a severe chopping gesture with the flat of his hand. “My personal life is mine. I won’t be set up, even by you.”

“I’m not talking about your personal life, Dustin,” Addison said, sounding as if he were straining to be patient, and yet with the hint of laughter to his voice. “I’m talking about your image. Who you know, where you go and especially how you dress. A change you and I both know would make our father happy.”