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The server pops by for our orders and vanishes as quickly as he can. Dad notes, “The service here has fallen off a cliff.”
“You picked it.”
His eyes narrow, and it’s like being glared at by my future self. I hate how much we look alike. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was younger, and it’s uncanny. But I refuse to end up as miserable and angry as he is. No one with his kind of privilege should be this much of a crabby bastard.
“I have something important to discuss, Anderson. Can you keep your barbed tongue to yourself, or do you wish to lose another argument today?”
I clench my jaw, trying to rein myself in. “I didn’t lose the Johnson case this week. The jury was bought.”
“Keep telling yourself that. I’m sure it’ll make Mr. Johnson feel better about losing.”
“Dad—"
“Never mind all that. Johnson was a loser in the first place. You didn’t have much to work with.” He concedes with a shrug, and I’m shocked. Elliot West is not one to forgive anything. Ever. “You vanished at the Chamberlain auction last weekend. It’s all anyone is talking about. I want to know why.”
As if I’ll ever tell him. “You know how Tag is. I had to get him out of there.”
He arches his brow and sneers, before taking another swig of martini. “I don’t like that boy. Never have. You have to stop taking him to everything. A woman would be a more suitable date for important functions.”
Perhaps agreeing with him will confuse him and shorten the discussion. “Certainly.”
When he frowns, there’s no confusion. Damn. “But you’d have to commit to one first. A steady. Someone bright and beautiful to lull people into a secure feeling in their dealings with you. The right partner is essential in business, Anderson.”
Stellar. We’re having this talk. Again. “I am more than aware of your thoughts on the matter.”
“You have the reputation of a man unwilling to commit. How can clients trust you, commit to you, if you cannot commit to a woman?”
“Having a girlfriend is not representative of my capacity as a lawyer.”
“On the contrary?—"
My cocktail arrives with no fanfare from the server. He simply places it and flees. I wish I could go with him.
Dad continues as I sip my Maker’s old-fashioned, “If you have a girlfriend, it shows clients you can commit to someone, something, a plan, at the very least. How am I supposed to relinquish the firm to you if you can’t even do the most basic thing?”
“You know who I am. You know what I can do. But you’re stalling because retirement freaks you out.”
“A West does not stall. A West commits. He protects what is his. If you can’t commit to a woman, how do you expect me to think you are faithful to the firm’s employees and shareholders?”
“That is hardly the same thing.”
But he shakes his head once. “The man who sits at the top must be, above all else, reliable and trustworthy. You have proven to be neither in your affections, and that is where you play at commitment without a net. It is the easiest thing in the world to find a woman who wants to be with a wealthy, attractive man. Find one. Commit to her. Then I will reconsider my options.”
This is the same song and dance I get at least once a quarter. Every lunch is some version of a speech on inadequacies. How I lack direction or foresight or some other skill he mastered in the crib. Nothing is ever good enough for Elliot West. I’d long ago given up whining about how unfair he was—whining showed a lack of character, according to him, and I was sick of hearing how I’d never measure up.
One of the few times I’d ever received his praise was when I wanted to help Kalen Black. But he didn’t give it right away. He paid for Kalen’s tuition under the strict agreement that I’d work at the firm the entire summer and miss out on the trip I’d planned with my friends between graduation and starting college. So, I worked my ass off that whole summer without getting paid, without complaint. When my friends posted pics of the trip, I never mooned over them. Just kept my nose to the grindstone. At the end of the summer, when my debt to him was finally paid off, he said, “Good show,” and firmly shook my hand.
It was as close to a hug or a genuine compliment as I’d ever received from him, and it meant the world to me at the time.
Thinking of Kalen makes me think of June, because after last Friday, the two are inextricably linked in my mind, and now that I’ve started thinking of her, a convenient story pops into my head. “Well, on that matter, I’ve actually started seeing someone.”
A few of the lines in his face fade. His version of being surprised. “You have?”
I nod. “And it’s been getting serious.”
“Why haven’t you mentioned her before?”
“You know better than most that this is unfamiliar territory for me, Dad. I’m not exactly sure what the proper milestones are in this.”
