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“Pardon my language, Dad, but Scott stuck his dick in too many guys for me to have counted. I get closure every time I get a negative diagnosis from my half-yearly STI and HIV tests. What made you come up with this?”

Dad’s surprised expression nearly made me laugh. He put cream in his coffee and stared over the top of the cup at me. “Bridges, I want you to be happy, son. You know I thought you’d join me at Aames Investments when you finished college, and maybe I was upset when you announced you were going to make bicycles and race them around the world. I mean, you’re successful now, but your mother and I worried about you.

“We were shocked when Claude told us he was going to invest in your company, and we felt guilty that we were blinded by our own expectations to see you were passionate about what you planned for your future. We don’t want to see anyone take advantage of you.”

I bit my tongue for an instant. Was he alluding to Weston? Did my parents think he was taking advantage of me?

“If you’re referring to Weston, Dad, you have nothing to worry about. He and I love each other and we’re making a life together. He makes me happy, and I’m doing my damnedest to do the same for him.” I meant it.

“How do you feel about the situation Claude created with his will? This whole thing about Weston needing to convince the Board that he’s prepared to run the company?”

Before I sent my lover to the slaughter, I wanted to know my father’s feelings about Claude’s bullshit. If I got a bad vibe from him, I’d make Weston put him at the end of his lunch date rotation.

Dad shook his head. “I loved Claude like a brother, but he had some fucked-up guilt complex about how his marriage with Elise ended and how he got together with May. If he got a couple scotches in him, he’d talk about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know how they got together, right?” Dad raised an eyebrow at me.

“Yes, Claude told me when we rode out to Long Island once. He didn’t say anything about guilt or regret, though. He just said that May was a one-eighty from Elise, and his marriage to Elise had been in the shitter for quite a while—his words not mine. Anyway, I got the impression he didn’t really want to talk about it, so I didn’t ask questions.”

I thought about it for a moment and looked at Dad. “Was it guilt over his poor choices that’s driving this stupid caveat for Weston taking over Aames? Him having to prove himself to the Board? That CJ and Claudia get to vote regarding whether they think Weston can run the company? What’s the contingency plan if they don’t approve Weston? Who runs Aames Investments?”

That was something that had never been clarified as far as I knew. Edmond didn’t reveal much information, which gave me the feeling that there was more going on than either West or I knew about.

“What are you and Edmond hiding? You know West had an accident and has been going to physical therapy. He was clipped by a cab as he was going to Edmond’s office to pick up a package, or so Edmond says.”

I was getting pissed. If the two of them had conspired to do anything to sabotage Weston, I’d find a lawyer and figure out how to take them to court for fraud of some sort.

No way were they going to tank my guy’s success. “Are you going to answer me?”

“Look, son. When Claude told me he’d been diagnosed with stage four cancer, he asked me what I thought of Weston as his successor. We all knew that CJ wasn’t the guy to take on that level of responsibility, and Claudia would likely have bled it dry without a thought. At the time, I didn’t think Weston would be a very good fit either. He’s young. He’s had issues with impulse control. Hell, he permanently lost his driver’s license here in New York because of his lead foot. The kid as his MBA and he had no plan for a future.”

Dad took a gulp of his cooling coffee and shook his head. “That damn caveat was my fault. I told Claude to give Weston a challenge. A chance to earn the company. I said it would give him a sense of accomplishment if he succeeded, and then I’d be around to help the kid if he needed it.

“I blame myself for it, but maybe it’ll give Weston some incentive to prove everyone wrong. I hope so.”

That was not the answer I wanted to hear. Sadly, it was exactly what I expected.

Chapter Twenty-three

Weston

March

Some days were diamonds, and some days were shit... I’m sure that’s not the saying, but that was what I was experiencing.

First, I’d called Edmond to set up lunch. He claimed he was getting ready for a fucking trial, though I’d never known my uncle, a trusts and estate lawyer, to go to trial. I had to believe him because I had no proof of anything else.

After that chore was done, I held my nose and called my brother, Claude Junior. He worked in the Aames Building, which I didn’t feel comfortable visiting any longer since I wasn’t supposed to know anything about the firm. It was a stupid rule someone had come up with, and if I succeeded in my trip, I was going to fire them. Well, maybe not. They were just looking out for the company, I supposed.

CJ refused to meet me, even going so far as to hang up on me. Okay, I guessed I could count him as a no vote.

I walked into the five-star restaurant where Claudia had agreed to meet me for dinner, not lunch. “Little West, dear, I don’t get into the office before three in the afternoon, so I’ve already had lunch. Cocktails at six, and dinner at seven. Tuesday night. I won’t bring a date, so don’t you, either.” That was the message she’d left on my phone after I’d left a message with her assistant inviting her to lunch. The assistant was someone I pitied more than anyone I’d ever met.

When Claudia floated into the restaurant in a cloud of expensive perfume with a man I’d never seen before, I was pissed. I’d left Bridges at home with a carryout club sandwich and a stupid reality show on a streaming platform. We’d been watching it together, but I gave him permission to watch an episode ahead.

“Hello, Weston. Good to see you. What have you been up to?” I could tell Claudia knew exactly what I’d been up to by the smirk on her slightly Botox-enhanced face.