“I was thinking maybe Mary Beth would want this space,” Bobby Joe continued. “As it is now, she drives from school to school. She would make more as an educational consultant and this could be her office.”

“Nice idea. Is it hers?”

Bobby Joe shot him a sarcastic smile. “No. Mine. I haven’t suggested it to her yet. But we have to start saving for a down payment.”

“Oh. So you actually aren’t doing that well.”

His younger brother’s quick temper flared again. “I’m sorry I ever asked you for money, ever. Just forget it, Parr.”

“You signed a promissory note to repay my loan within a year.” His brother could consider himself reminded. “And now you’re asking for a second. That’s not how it’s done.”

Parr wouldn’t be doing Bobby Joe any favors if he let him slide.

“Didn’t you just close some great big deal? You must be rolling in dough.”

“I put in the winning bid for a new office complex outside Memphis. But no one’s showed up with wheelbarrows full of cash yet. Takes a while. You know that. Anyway, that is a done deal. What you have here is nine-tenths imagination and one-tenth obligation.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Get your cash flow going on your own. I’m not bankrolling you this time.”

“What if I pay you what I owe?”

“No. It’s painfully clear that you can’t unless you borrow from someone else to do it. I can wait. I just wanted to make sure that you hadn’t forgotten.”

Parr sure as hell hoped that Mary Beth found out about Bobby’s freewheeling approach to finance. She could end up bankrupt and broke before she saw it coming. However—Parr silently gritted his teeth—he couldn’t tattle on his brother.

“Great,” Bobby Joe snarled. “Just great. I’m trying to get ahead and you get in my way.”

Parr had had enough. “Getting into debt is what you’re talking about, not getting ahead. And how come you always have to do that on someone else’s dime?”

Bobby Joe bristled and took a step toward his big brother. The warning fire in Parr’s dark eyes was enough to make him think twice. Bobby Joe stood in the middle of the empty office, clenching his hands.

“We’re not going to fight, Bobby Joe,” Parr said finally. “At least not with fists. But I think you owe Mary Beth an explanation.”

“Leave her out of this!”

Parr shook his head. “Sorry. This must be—”

“What?”

“Mother said you two weren’t speaking to each other.”

“She’s wrong.”

Parr studied his brother’s expression. He did know when Bobby Joe was lying as a general rule. This would be, in his estimation, one of those times.

“What’s going on? You didn’t—”