I look at him, still drinking, still wearing last night’s clothes. “I think I’ll take my chances. It’s not like there’s anyone else to manage all of you.”

“If managing five people is beyond you—”

“I manage more than our family, and you know it.”

Sometimes, getting all five of my brothers to coordinate their efforts is an impossible task. I have no idea why Dad brought us all on. He’d have done better to poach experts from other resorts. But here we are without him. In years past, the resort and club have made enough money so that we can all live comfortably—even Asher. Half the time, I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing.

“Anyway,” I continue on while Beau drinks. “Dad always said that if you want something done right, you should do it yourself. You don’t have your drunk brother do it for you.”

He nods sagely. “I guess now’s the time to beg forgiveness.”

My heart throws itself headfirst against my rib cage. “Forgiveness for what?”

“For hiring you a girl.”

This is it. This is how I die.

“Beau.” Even my own voice sounds deadly. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell are you doing asking strippers to come to the resort? Oh, Jesus. It’s not a stripper, is it? If you hired a call girl—”

Beau doubles over, his laughter echoing across the pool. Jerry looks up to see what’s so funny, shakes his head, and goes back to his work. “I didn’t hire you a stripper. It’s not like that. It’s not like that, I swear.”

“Then tell me what it is like before I keel over.”

“I hired you a social media manager. She’s really good.”

I blink at him. “What do you mean, she’s good? And how would you know? Your specialty is networking.”

“Here’s what I know.” Beau takes a celebratory swig of his mimosa. It’s comically large, in one of the steins meant for a foot of beer. “You’ve been mulling this over and problem-solving it for weeks. You keep bitching about it whenever we have dinner. It is pointless for me to keep hosting events and being the center of attention if all you’re going to post are pictures of the empty front desk.”

He has a point.

“So I went behind your back and hired someone.”

My brain can’t wrap itself around this. “How did you hire someone? You hire event staff. How the hell did you even—”

“She came highly recommended. Can we sit down?” Beau looks around for one of the lounge chairs, but they’re all lined up in the neat rows I insist on. I have the staff come out three times a day to make sure they’re configured in a pleasing arrangement.

“No, we can’t sit down.”