Vegas Sunrise by Fern Michaels Page A

should be involved. When you own your own business you don’t let strangers or outsiders run it for you.”
    â€œMy first thought was, how is Celia going to take it?” Birch said. “I was a little upset, but it was okay. A hundred grand a year and the penthouse isn’t shabby.”
    â€œWill Celia think it’s shabby?”
    â€œMy gut says yes. The day before yesterday I would have said no. Sunny, I feel like a net is getting ready to drop on me. It came out of nowhere. Maybe I don’t belong in society.”
    â€œI wish I could help you, but it’s all I can do to help myself. I’ll try to like her for your sake. If it doesn’t work, it won’t be because I didn’t try. Remember the rules now.”
    â€œYou want me to apologize to that doctor, don’t you?”
    â€œOnly if you want to. What are you going to do now?”
    â€œGo look for a car. I’m going to need some wheels.”
    â€œWant mine?”
    â€œYour Volvo? Do you still have it? You really have the old gray ghost?”
    Sunny smiled at the excitement in her brother’s voice. “I sure do, and it’s in mint condition. It’s candy apple red now. Dad had it overhauled, repainted, new upholstery, the works. Feel free to use it. God, how I loved that car.” She fumbled in the side pocket of a canvas bag attached to her chair. “Here’s the key. Swear you won’t drive it over forty miles an hour. Sometimes when I have trouble falling asleep I think about all the good times, running to the car, running here or there. I’m always running, and then I slide into the car. Oh God, Birch, I’m never going to be able to do that again. Never, ever.” Her high-pitched keening wail sent shivers up Birch’s spine.
    His heart breaking for his sister, Birch lifted her out of the wheelchair and into his arms. He walked with her, around the old tree and then back and forth, his tears mingling with Sunny’s as he crooned to her. Until that moment he wasn’t aware of how thin and bony she was under her layered clothes.
    â€œOkay, I’m done bawling now. You can put me back in the chair. Jeez, I haven’t done that in a long time. Did I mess up your shirt?”
    â€œNah. Are you serious about the Volvo? Sage and I were so jealous when Mom let you get that car. At night when you were sleeping we’d go out and sit in it.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œYou knew and you didn’t beat on us.”
    â€œYou’re my brothers. Take Jake out in it sometimes, okay?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œWhat’s Celia going to say when she sees you driving around in a fifteen-year-old Volvo?”
    Birch shrugged. “She wants a Cadillac.”
    â€œDad always called them pimpmobiles. Thanks for coming by, Birch.”
    â€œI’ll be here every week, maybe twice. I’ll go pick up your car and drive out to Mom’s house. I can’t wait to see it.”
    â€œDid Mom tell you about Daisy’s pups? She had four. Sage took one, and Bess took one. Mom kept two. She calls the girl Growl Tiger and the boy is Fosdick. Mom and Marcus just love them. All three of them sleep on the bed with them. Jake baby-sits the dogs when they travel. He really keeps them spruced up. Oh, oh, here comes my therapist. Don’t go yet, I want you to meet her. Her real name is Libertine. Don’t laugh. We call her Libby.”
    Birch turned, hands jammed into his khaki trousers. She looked golden in the early-morning sun, her reddish hair a nimbus of curls around her head. Her eyes were cornflower blue and crinkled at the corners. Her smile was so warm it wrapped itself around him. Her handshake was bone-crushing.
    â€œYou must be Birch. Sunny described you perfectly. I think I’d know you anywhere. I’m Libby Maxwell. I lost ten dollars two weeks ago at Babylon.”
    â€œOh. Well . . . ah, are you going to try and win it