The Darkest Sunrise (The Darkest Sunrise #1)

“I need you to cook.”

I’d spent the morning ordering a gazillion pounds of meat (rough exaggeration) and calling in four of our sous chefs to make burger patties, pasta salads, potato salads, and a bunch of other amazing picnic-style foods Tanner would never allow us to serve at the restaurant.

“You need me to cook for you every day. Seriously, I can’t watch you make a PB and J without cringing, but why specifically on Saturday?”

“I’m trying to get Travis an appointment with that new pulmonologist, so I volunteered to cater their Spring Fling.”

“And you think having celebrity chef Tanner Reese show up is going to help get your foot in the door?”

I rolled my eyes. “Your humility is astounding. No. I don’t need celebrity Tanner Reese to do anything. I do, however, need my brother to show up, be charming, and grill a literal shit-ton of hamburgers. Though, if someone asks for an autograph, sign it. Just, please, for the love of all that’s holy, wait for them to actually ask. It’s embarrassing watching you snatch cocktail napkins out of people’s hands each time you exit the kitchen. You have no idea how many of those ‘collector’s items’ the bar staff throws away each night.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “One time. One time.” He paused and gazed off into the distance at the picturesque pond dancing in the background.

I’d always loved that plantation house, with its wraparound porches, oak-lined driveway, and the massive weeping willow that decorated the front lawn. It was the perfect house to raise a family. Thus, it had boggled my mind when my brother of all people had bought it two years earlier.

“No,” he said absently.

“No, what?”

He turned to face me. “No, I’m not spending my first day off in almost a month making a bunch of burgers for a Spring Fling. Get Raul to do it.”

I took a long stride toward him. “Don’t fucking do the diva bit today.”

He smiled. “I’m not being a diva. I’m exhausted. I need a day off.”

“So take next weekend off,” I offered—though I had no idea what the hell I’d do without him.

We booked out months in advance on the weekends. And, as much as I hated to admit it, most of that hype was because customers knew that Tanner would be there, not only in the kitchen, but also meandering around the dining room. Worse, with the soft opening of the new restaurant quickly approaching too, I doubted either one of us would be able to take a weekend off for a long while.

“Can’t,” he replied. “We have the Leblanc wedding reception. He paid a small fortune to buy us out for the night.”

I ground my teeth, desperation getting the best of me. “I need you there.” And then the truth escaped my mouth before I had a chance to stop it. “You have to come. What if she tells me no?”

He paused with the cigarette halfway to his mouth. “She?”

I interlocked my fingers and rested them on the top of my head. “Dr. Mills. I was kinda hoping you’d come and put her in that weird trance thing that makes women actually like you.”

“The trance thing,” he repeated, humor thick in his voice.

“I don’t know. Okay? I just can’t afford to fuck this up and I thought maybe, if you were there, I’d have a better shot at getting her to say yes.”

I had no idea that a human face was capable of stretching that wide.

“Say it… You want celebrity Tanner Reese.”

“No, what I want is for you to stop talking in third person.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Then no. I can’t make it.”

“Fuck!” I exploded, tugging at the top of my hair. “Fine. I want the minor celebrity—”

“Major,” he countered.

I glowered and then amended through clenched teeth, “Major celebrity Tanner to come—”

“Full name or it doesn’t count.”

Closing my eyes, I tipped my head back and stared up at the wooden slats of the second-floor balcony. “I need you, major celebrity Tanner Reese, to come cook burgers and help me schmooze a doctor into taking your nephew on as a patient.”

When he didn’t reply with a smartass comment, I pried my eyes open and found him watching me with a satisfied grin.

He smacked my arm before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m fucking with you. I was in the minute you said it was for Trav.”

I shrugged his hand off. “You’re a dick.” But knowing he’d be there lifted the weight of the world off my shoulders. If anyone could talk a middle-aged, crotchety doctor into treating Travis, it was my brother.

Laughing, he put his cigarette out and headed to the door. “Whatever you need, man. Text me the details and let yourself out.” Just before the door closed behind him, he leaned his upper body out and said, “Go around the side of the house. I hear it’s past Andrea’s feeding time, and I don’t have time to save your ass with the ladies twice in one week.” He winked, and then he was gone.

He was seriously obnoxious, but with a barbeque to coordinate, a restaurant to open, two kids to pick up from my parents, an ambush medical consult to plan, and a beer calling my name from my refrigerator at home, I left his house smiling for the first time all day.





* * *





Something was wrong with me. And more than the normal bullshit that was always wrong with me. Usually by March ninth, I was done with the wallowing and I’d gotten my shit together. But it was now the tenth and I couldn’t seem to emerge from the madness churning in my head. I wasn’t sure if it was the realization that I’d had watching Tom fawn over my mom or maybe seeing Brady moving on with his new wife and son. Or maybe I’d finally gotten so lost in the darkness that I couldn’t find my way out.

But, whatever it was, it was drowning me.

Mr. Clark had still been at the hospital, but I hadn’t been able to drag myself up there to check on him. Instead, I’d allowed the on-call to treat him while I had lain in bed, soaking my pillow in salty tears, mourning the loss of what felt like my entire life.

It had been ten goddamn years; it should have been getting easier to climb out of bed every morning, not harder. Yet, that morning, as I’d forced myself to get dressed and leave the house, it had seemed more difficult than ever.

Enough was enough. I couldn’t keep living like that. That is if you could consider what I was doing living at all.

I needed something to change.

Anything.

Hell, maybe everything.

Deep down, I knew the truth. I was what needed to change. But it wasn’t going to happen without conscious and continuous effort on my part. It was only that realization that had led me to attend the office Spring Fling.

“You came!” Rita exclaimed as I’d strolled up to the welcome table. She raked her gaze over me. “And…in a hoodie. How charming.”