Page 8

Chapter Three

Weston

Mom and I sat in the kitchen of the fabulous apartment she’d shared with Dad, where we still lived for now. Both of us were dazed by the turn of events regarding Dad’s will. My father had given us a curve ball free throw—or whatever sports metaphor was appropriate for destroying a family’s life. We were about to be homeless and penniless, and it was more than a surprise.

God help us, we’d stooped so low that we were cooking a frozen pizza Mom had picked up at a neighborhood bodega—not even a delivery. Renata, our cook, had been released the day we were given the news of my father’s complete abandonment of us.

Mom had given Renata a nice severance package from the household accounts that nearly emptied them. We now had some hard truths to face.

The buzzer on the oven—we were forced to search for the instruction book to learn how to set the temperature and the timer—blasted, scaring both of us because we’d never heard it before. I went to take out the pizza.

“Weston, honey, use a potholder. In that drawer.” She pointed to the drawer to the right side of the oven, so I opened it, grabbing a potholder and pulling out the pizza that appeared to be blackened on one side and still half frozen on the other.

“This doesn’t look right, Mom.”

She stood from the island and walked around the side to see the mess I was holding.

“Damn. Renata told me a month ago that she’d called a service company because the oven was acting up. I failed to ask for more information from her before I let her go, just assuming she’d already gotten it fixed. I should have paid more attention.”

If my father hadn’t been cremated, I’d dig his ass up and kill him again. This mess he’d left us in? We didn’t deserve it. Well, Mom didn’t deserve it. I probably did because I was a spoiled asshole for most of my life.

Mom tossed the pizza into the trash and turned to me with a big smile. “Let’s take walk down to Graziano’s. They sell by the slice. We weren’t going to eat that whole thing, anyway.”

“Sure. Let me get my shoes.” I glanced at the weather app on my phone to see it was threatening showers. “Get an umbrella, Mom.”

I hurried to my bedroom and grabbed some shoes that wouldn’t be ruined if it started to rain. When I returned to the foyer, Mom was wearing a rain poncho and boots. She handed me an umbrella, and we headed out.

Once we were on the sidewalk, Mom took my arm as we slowly walked down the street. “I think we need to sell the apartment, West. I’ll check with Edmond about it. I’m sure there were things in the will that he didn’t cover, but I’m sure we can sell the apartment and get an apartment somewhere else. That way, we’d have money to get by on until we figure things out.”

“No, Mom. That’s our home. No way did Dad mean for us to be homeless. Hell, he gave CJ and Claudia the beach house. There has to be something that Uncle Ed skipped over.”

Mom shook her head. “We don’t need all that room, West. We can downsize and probably not even notice. Maybe we can move to Brooklyn or even the Bronx. I had a fourth-floor walk-up in the Bronx when I moved from Burlington to work as a production assistant for Bite of the Big Apple, a news magazine about living in New York City. Rents were high in Manhattan, and my salary wasn’t. I worked for the show for a year before I got the job working at Aames Investments.”

That was surprising. I never knew my mother worked in television. “Did you want to continue working on the show?”

Mom giggled. “No. I wasn’t great at it. I felt much more at home working as a secretary, which was what it was called before the title was upgraded to executive assistant. I started at the bottom at Aames, but I made more in the secretarial pool than I did as a PA.”

I’d known my mother for twenty-five years and never knew she’d done anything other than work for my father. God, was I that self-absorbed that I’d never bothered to ask?

“Anyway, we didn’t really explore the other boroughs when you were growing up, so we can look at this next phase of our lives as a new adventure. I can even get a job. I was a pretty good executive assistant to your dad, and I learned a lot about the investment business. Of course, that was all before you were born. Dad was willing to teach me all sorts of things that could translate to any business, I think. I bet I could get Daryl to give me a reference.”

My heart was ripped out of my chest at her words. No way was my mother going back to work. My father, cutting us out like that? What a prick!

Though, if I was being honest with myself, he hadn’t cut us out. He’d just challenged me to do something I had no desire to do—run Aames Investments. I didn’t want to be a corporate drone. I wanted exciting adventures and new experiences, not working in an office on Fifth Avenue.

I exhaled. “I’ll get a job, Mom. I’ll take care of you. Is the apartment paid for? I mean, if it is, we can stay there for now, can’t we? We don’t have to sell it right away. We can cut back. We don’t need cable TV or the internet. We can go down to the café on the first floor to use theirs, and after I get a job, I’ll make sure we’re fine.”

Mom chimed in. “You know, we could move to Brooklyn or even across the river to New Jersey. Heck we can probably rent the apartment as an executive rental for a few weeks at a time. It would provide extra income.” That sounded like blasphemy to me. Surely Claude Aames wouldn’t want that for the woman he loved and the kid he tolerated.

Mom and I arrived at Graziano’s, and we ordered two slices before taking a seat at a two-top outside because the place was jam-packed. Just when the server brought our slices and two glasses of Chianti, the sky opened up.

We were under an awning, but the rain was coming down hard. Mom looked at me and started to laugh hysterically. “The angels are weeping.”

I laughed. No truer words were ever spoken.

Later that night, I was scrolling through my phone to look for a job. I still hadn’t found anything I thought could redeem me in the eyes of the Board of Directors at Aames Investments. Hell, I had no idea what might appease them.

The Board consisted of Daryl, Claudia, CJ, Uncle Edmond, and Dad, though his seat was now vacant. I needed to ask Uncle Edmond about it. As I did the count, I had three of the board members against me, one vacant seat, and Uncle Edmond. The three people who hated me the most made up the majority, and I wouldn’t stand a fucking chance at winning over anyone.