Read Broken Glass for Free Online Page B

his hands in a gesture, as if to say, See how annoying my sister is ? “Sure,” he said. He reluctantly moved away from scarlet fingernailed Jill, whose talons were still gently rested on his bronzed shoulders, and stood up. He’d grown since I last saw him. He was now well over six feet tall. He’d been working out, too. A brand new Will, who’d left his old self behind in Vermont. I pulled him away from his sexy entourage.
    “Will,” I hissed in a whisper, “keep your mouth shut about your winnings, or these girls will strip you bare.”
    “They already have,” he said, raising a confident eyebrow. Just like Will—he’d always been generous, never understood the meaning of money. “Have already stripped me, already stripped me.”
    “How much?” I said, wondering how he’d handle it when it finally sunk in what he’d done.
    “All the way, sis. With all three.” He was still grinning.
    “Are you talking about what I think you’re talking about?”
    “Sure am.”
    “Did you use a condom?”
    “I used three condoms.”
    I couldn’t help but smile—Will always did take things literally. I had my answer, anyway. He was no longer a virgin. Three times no longer a virgin. “The money, have you spent it all?”
    “Nooo, it’s in the bank.”
    “In a bank? Like a real bank?”
    “I opened up a bank account today. Put my winnings in, except I did buy the girls dresses, and drinks and, well . . . maybe some jewelry. Taking them out tonight, dresses and all. They look great in their dresses, great in their dresses.”
    “You put the money in a bank ?”
    “Better under a mattress? Or down a bra?” He laughed. I was reeling with this information; Will and banks didn’t seem to go hand in hand.
    “Will, how much are you talking about?”
    “Eighty thousand dollars. Give or take, give or take, give or take.”
    “Holy shit! You’re kidding me?”
    “Nope.”
    “And you put it in a bank?”
    “Yup.”
    I narrowed my eyes. “In your name, or in one of the girl’s names?”
    “Janie, I’m not dumb.” He twizzled around like Fred Astaire.
    “Holy shit!” I sounded like a broken record. I hugged my not-so-little brother in celebration, my arms squeezing him in a tight embrace. Here I’d been thinking he needed my help. Maybe what he really needed, all along, was to get away from us—from Dad and me—to think clearly, be his own person, and this trip to Vegas offered that. We spoke some more and Will revealed that, before he laid his first bet on the table, he’d come up with an airtight plan; to quit after his third winning, put the money away, and only invest five percent with each new round. If he lost, he told me, too bad, but if he won, it would prove that his system worked. It did. Another thing he confided was that he’d planned this trip ahead of time.
    Will was smarter than all of us put together.
    “For now, just don’t tell Dad, okay?” I suggested. “He’s shell-shocked enough as it is with this whole . . . whole manhood thing, he doesn’t need to know about the money yet. Just promise me you’ll be careful, Will.”
    “I promise, I promise. I promise.”
    Just then my cell rang. Daniel.
    “Did you find your brother?” he asked.
    I told him the Will saga and he laughed.
    “Have you been to your room?” he said. Just hearing Daniel’s raspy voice was doing things to my body.
    “No, why?”
    “Because there’s something waiting for you when you get there.”
    “Champagne?”
    “No, I want you sober.”
    “What then?”
    “Something for tonight. I’m taking you to a party.”
    “A party?” I instantly wondered if I had anything to wear.
    “A Hollywood party at the Bellagio, a lot of producers and directors will be there.”
    “Are my father and Will invited?”
    “If you want them to be, sure.”
    “Okay, I’ll mull that one over.”
    “A show first, though, just us, no third party. If they want to come they can meet us later. I’ll knock at your