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Kimber was eighteen when she gave Aidy up for adoption and she struggled through those emotions and some heavy-duty postpartum depression without a support system.
Swigging down the last sip, I set my empty on the white linen table cloth. It’s frou frou for a golf club’s restaurant bar, but whatever. Twisting the bottle around, I stop myself from tearing at the label and shredding it into a pile.
I’ve made my fair share of messes. Jake? Today he’s using that to his advantage.
Holly Carrington, the assistant manager at Sweet Caroline’s, put in an application with the local big brother program for her son, Bhodi. The coordinator matched Holly’s nine-year-old with a guy named Cary Cass. According to the information Cary gave Holly when they spoke, Cass is employed at a local car dealership. If his last name was Smith I doubt anyone would have thought twice. But cars across the Triangle have Cass-Stanton emblazoned upon their tailgates or holding the back license plates on.
Holly is a great mom. Every decision she makes is with that kid in mind. It was smart of her to come to me with a red flag. All she needed was for me to ensure she wasn’t letting her kid go off unaccompanied with a deviant.
I didn’t find a trace of drug abuse, a history of any arrests, or restraining orders. Cass keeps a low-profile online, has squeaky clean credit, a job with the benefit of eventually owning the damn company, and decent equity in a half-million-dollar house on the sound in Manteo. He drained his trust fund dry because of it. But if you ask me, the kid’s not doing too bad. If Morgan wasn’t shacking up with Aidy in my attic, I’d convince Kimber’s daughter she was in the market for a new car.
Who knows why Cass is volunteering as a mentor? It could be as simple as It’s part of his company’s charitable outreach. However, it was a dumbass move on my part to mention to Jake I was looking into Cary Cass. Not only does my partner know the man already, Cary Stanton is also Rex’s progeny. It drove Jake bonkers—not that it takes a hell of a lot—trying to piece together why the twenty-something dropped Stanton in favor of his grandfather’s surname.
Of course, I’ve dug deep before for Jake Ballentine on other matters. One of Cass-Stanton’s execs had certain proclivities that didn’t include his wife and would have left a congregation of parents questioning if they’d misplaced their trust in the man who acted as a youth pastor to impressionable young men every Sunday. Sexual deviation is not tolerated in strict southern houses of worship.
Hell, I’d be more concerned about who was fucking the exec’s wife if he was fucking someone else. But I also have a marriage of my own and a wife I haven’t screwed around on since the moment I stuck my dick between her legs... And it isn’t because I’m afraid a feisty redhead like Kimber would cut it off along with my balls.
She so totally fucking would.
But not Jake. He thought someone was off about Stanton and was correct figuring Rex would pay to keep his employee’s secret. So, Jake hadn’t bought it when I muddled through explaining the bad blood between Cary Cass and Rex Stanton was probably one generation trying to make its mark while the other wasn’t ready to hand over control. I wanted Jake to leave it alone for Holly’s sake. Admittedly, sleeping like crap has made me exhausted and I flubbed the shit out of it when I told him. Jake took advantage. Like a viper, he knows when to go in for the kill and the shithead gets worse year after year.
I thought Jake would settle down at some point. Start living his best life. Stop obsessing over, and falling for, women he can’t have. And kick the worse habit of collecting and using all the ones easily attracted to him. Women can’t change men unless or until the man finds the reason within to want to be changed. Even then, it’s all on him.
At this point, I humor Jake because I know if he had his druthers Sweet Caroline’s would have shuttered its doors when Jake’s mother, the club’s namesake, stopped stripping. Complying also gets me home in the company of the people who mean the most to me.
I adjust my ass in the chair and tap my fingers on the underside of the table. My bored expression attracts a waiter who asks if I want another round. I wave him off once and then again a few minutes later, saying no to the check.
In my peripheral vision, I’m able to see what’s going on. Stanton’s face is red and his fists are clenched. Jake’s leaning in. His arm reaches high and his palm is flat to the wallpaper. He’s placed his empty green beer bottle so close to a plant that it’s practically inside. The cleaners will have a tough time noticing it. Stanton’s puffing up. Jake’s as cool as a cucumber.
I check my watch, giving it three minutes before Ballentine saunters back in a celebratory mood. He’ll greet a member or two. Press the flesh. They’ll fawn over him when he invites them to the club or suggests a tee time another day. They’ll show at both places. They always do. He calls it respect, but let’s not mince words. It’s fear. Nobody here wants Jake to take an interest in their business, and they’re senseless enough to believe if they’re affable toward him, they’ll stay on Jake’s good side. These are men he controls or those who haven’t realized someday he aims to have control over.
________________
“You good?” Jake’s all smiles, sitting down and scooting his chair in.
“You are,” I quip, and his fangs show.
Jake’ll brag about it once he makes himself comfortable and orders another round. He’s in the mood for rum and makes the server go through all the top-shelf options.
I’m not drinking what he’s asking for, so I don’t give a shit when his brand isn’t available. It’s too close to the time I’ve got to head out to meet up with Byron Burne, and Byron will hit the fucking roof if he smells hard liquor on my breath before we get to work.
Jake tells the waiter nevermind and settles on the cheap stuff like I knew he would. The whole thing was a ploy to prove his dominance.
My friend is restless. He wants to spill, but I make Jake bite his tongue until his new drink is in front of him and the waiter is out of earshot.
“Did Stanton cop to it?”
“Nah, but from the way he was about to burst a blood vessel, there’s no way the kid is his. Interesting enough,” Jake taps by the corner of his eye, “Rex’s fear makes me wonder if Cass is aware.”
“What else could they have between them that made Cary take the grandfather’s name?”
“You tell me.”
I touch my beard. “Hell if I know. Guy’s clean. Other than the number of women he’s fucked.” I flip my hand so my palm faces the air. “Still less than you have, so that can’t be it. And he’s definitely into chicks, so Holly’s got nothing to worry about with Bhodi.”
“What about Stanton? Any concerns about little boys there? Wouldn’t be far-fetched with the people he employs.”
“He’s had a few work affairs with secretaries. None the wife seems to care about.”
