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Macon pointed at Dominick and then at me. “No wonder the two of you are best friends.”
Dominick flipped him off. “The answer is, a couple of hours. Don’t worry, Macon, you’ll have plenty of time to be fed a bottle and lie down for your nap before the game starts.”
“I’m an expert at bottles,” Ford, the youngest Dalton, said as he moved toward the front. “I’m pretty good at burping, too, if you need help there.” He winked at Macon.
“That makes two of us now,” Cooper added.
I put my hand over my mouth, laughing my ass off, while I took the liquor from Jenner.
Magic happened when the Spades and Daltons hung out. It wasn’t just because we were practically family now—lots of families didn’t hit it off. It was because there was an understanding between us, a mutual respect, the ability to throw all the shit we wanted and it was never taken as shade.
And one of our favorite things to do together was travel as a group. This trip had been planned during one of the nights I was out, having drinks with Dominick and the Weston family—a group of five siblings we did business with who owned high-end steak and seafood restaurants all over the world. Beck Weston, one of the brothers, played in the NHL for the LA Whales. All three families had box seats at the arena in LA and went to many of his games, but it was that night we’d decided to hit the road and attend one of his away games. After checking out the schedule, we’d chosen Tampa.
But for this trip, the whole crew hadn’t been able to make it. Camden, the youngest Dalton, along with his twin sister’s boyfriend, Declan, were in Boston, litigating a case, and had to pass. And there were also the Coles—Ridge and Rhett, Rowan’s two brothers—who had been given a pity invite even though we knew they wouldn’t come.
The three of them were now equal partners in our business—a merger I wasn’t fucking happy about. The thought still pissed me off, but there was nothing I could do about it.
I wasn’t surprised the Cole brothers hadn’t made it. Their dad wasn’t doing well, and one of them was always with him, but the real reason was that things weren’t warm between us. They weren’t cold, like they had once been, but I didn’t see them vacationing with us anytime soon. Considering we had to work together and get along, at least things were headed in the right direction.
I took a long drink of the whiskey and handed it back to Jenner just as the SUV pulled out of the parking lot.
“Three weeks until Edinburgh closes,” Jenner said to me.
My blood pressure spiked. “You never take a vacation from shop talk, do you, Dalton?”
He laughed. “You’re telling me you do?”
He had a good point. Not a single motherfucker in this vehicle could separate himself from work. If we weren’t chatting about law, their specialty, we were talking about hotels. I preferred the latter.
“Do you think it’ll get pushed back?” I asked. “Or is three weeks a hard deadline?”
After several trips to Scotland, viewing all the available properties and land for sale, I’d decided on a rehab rather than a full build-out, and we were in escrow for a high-rise in the Old Town area of the city. Although my siblings had moved to the locations where they’d built hotels—Macon had gone to Hawaii; Cooper and Rowan and the baby would soon be headed to Lake Louise and Banff—that wasn’t my plan. I would spend four days a week in Edinburgh and the other three back in LA.
A lot of fucking flying, but it was the way I wanted it.
“I’m about ninety percent sure it’ll close on time,” Jenner replied. “Dealing with laws outside our country is always a bit tricky, that’s why I left the ten percent buffer in case Scotland decides to pull out some red tape.” He shifted in his seat, turning more toward me. “How long will the rehab take?”
“I’m hoping no more than six months.”
“Which means about a year,” Jenner said.
If there wasn’t gel in my hair, I would have dragged my hand through it. “I sure as fuck hope not.” I set my phone on my leg, tired of holding it. “Since I’ll be commuting back and forth, it’s going to be a nightmare to share the plane with the other six partners. Shit, we’re already struggling, and I haven’t even started my weekly hauls to the UK.”
“Before Walter and Ray signed the paperwork for the merger, I told them you guys needed a second jet. They didn’t want to hear it. They wanted it to become your problem.”
“Sounds about right,” I groaned.
My uncle and Ray—who was Rowan, Ridge, and Rhett’s dad—had wanted the two companies to become one, and when that was done, they let their heirs handle every internal fire. There were fucking hundreds that had ignited—from accounting to IT to HR. We were still dealing with kinks that were challenging our processes and testing our strength as a business. The mention of a second jet was something I’d brought up months ago, but with everything that was going on, it wasn’t a priority to the executive team.
“And it’s become a big problem.”
“I didn’t tell you to do this,” Jenner started, “but, buddy, just go buy one.”
Jenner was our corporate attorney. Aside from our accountant, there wasn’t anyone who could give me better advice.
“You know I will,” I told him.
He squeezed my shoulder, shaking it in his grip, and I glanced down at my lap, where my phone was vibrating.
