Page 7

Dad and I touched glasses before sipping our drinks. It was funny that he didn’t want to be the head of the company he helped establish, but it made perfect sense. Dad never wanted to be in the spotlight, so being named the head of Aames Investments wouldn’t have been his choice.

“Uh, no. He didn’t name CJ. You, however, will be acting CEO for the time being.” The look on my father’s face was priceless.

“Fuck. Claude mentioned it to me, but I hoped he’d changed his mind, the jackass. Yeah, I agreed to do it for a year, but he’d better have named someone for the position after that. Your mother will have my head if I don’t retire early enough so we can travel. I’ve promised her we’d have a life after you went to college.”

I chuckled. Mom had a list of places she wanted to visit before she died. If he didn’t retire, I was pretty sure he’d be on another list of hers.

“Yes, and I meant it. I’ll find another man to travel with me. Maybe I should start going with Bridges when he goes on some of his trips so he doesn’t have to go alone.” I turned to see my beautiful mother in the entrance.

Dad chuckled as he went to the bar to make Mom a martini. “Yes, dear, because every single man wants to travel with his mother.”

Mom placed the meat, cheese, and fruit platter on the table before rushing out and returning with small plates and a basket of various types of crackers. She handed each of us a cloth napkin before taking a seat next to me on the sofa as Dad brought over her cocktail.

“So, how else was the estate disbursed?” Mom placed her martini on a coaster and quickly made a plate for Dad, standing to hand it to him.

There were four different cheeses, some prosciutto, salami, and Parma ham, along with plump figs, green grapes, and dried apricots. Sprinkled in the open spaces were cashews, pistachios, and lightly smoked almonds. It was a Constance Eaton masterpiece. I didn’t hate joining my parents on charcuterie and cocktails night.

“Uh, CJ and Claudia are getting the beach house in East Hampton. There were some things that belonged to the Ames’ grandparents that Claude listed specifically, and the best part was the look on Elise’s face when she wasn’t given anything. Claude even made a statement that she’d sucked him dry when they got divorced.”

Dad and I laughed, but Mom tsked us. “Elise got a healthy settlement when they divorced, it’s true, but the way their marriage ended is quite sad. CJ and Claudia were the sacrificial lambs when it came to their parents.”

Mom shook her head. I knew she got along with May, but she didn’t approve of Claude’s affair with her. Claude should have been kicked in the ass for what he’d done, but I still cared for the man.

I knew it made her wonder about Dad, but Mrs. Johnson, Dad’s executive assistant, was damn near eighty so I was confident Mom had nothing to worry about. Mrs. Johnson seemed more along the lines of a prison warden.

Dad took another sip of his drink. “What did he leave for May and Weston.”

That was when it got tricky. I knew Dad was going to lose his mind, and I wished to hell Edmond had asked to meet with him before I’d shown up at the house.

“Uh, well... Claude named Weston as the CEO of Aames.”

Dad slammed his rocks glass on the table and stood, dumping his plate on the fancy Persian rug on the floor. “That son-of-a-bitch? That fucking brat isn’t—”

“Daryl! Language!” Of course, Mom was mortified. I didn’t think I’d heard any cursing worse than hell out of her mouth since I understood what swear words were.

“I’m not working with that fucking asshole, Constance. Hell, you don’t like him either.”

Mom stood and walked to where Dad had dropped his plate, squatting to clean up the mess. “I believe May and Claude might have needed a firmer hand on Weston at points in his life, but I don’t dislike him. You don’t like him because he’s not afraid of you.”

My father swatted her away and moved to pick up the mess, carrying the plate into the kitchen before coming back with a clean plate. He made it himself, and sat down, draining his glass. “Get us another drink, Bridges.”

I was taking the subway—or maybe I’d take a cab—back to Brooklyn, so another drink wouldn’t hurt anything.

Picking up Dad’s glass and my own, I walked to the bar. “You’ll be happy to know that there are caveats in Claude’s bequests. First, CJ and Claudia get to keep their jobs for one year to prove they’re worthy of them. If they don’t, they’re to be terminated without severance packages. They still have their trusts, and I doubt it would bother them not to have to work.”

I walked over to put Dad’s glass on the table in front of him before retaking my seat. “Regarding Weston assuming the helm of Aames Investments—it’s subject to him proving to the Board of Directors that he’s up to the challenge, and for the next year, he has to support his mother. They have to figure out how to live without the money.”

Mom’s face morphed into mortification. “You mean May has to get a job?” It was as though the idea was similar to May being sold into slavery.

“I guess, unless he left money to run the household. They have that huge apartment across town. I know he loves May, and I’m sure there’s something more that Edmond didn’t share regarding expenses.

“He asked me to help Weston achieve his goal. I said I’ll help, but I’m not figuring it out for him.” I glanced between my parents to see Mom’s gentle smile and Dad’s scowl.

I took a drink from my glass and turned toward my father. “Do you dislike West because you think he’s a brat, or is it because he’s a proud gay man?”

My father sputtered, but Mom came to his rescue again. “Bridges, you know we’re not homophobic. Your father doesn’t dislike Weston.”

Not surprisingly, Dad didn’t say a word.