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“So what happens now?” I ask, throwing the letter back onto his desk, observing him from where I sit opposite in the hard timber chair. He is a tall, stocky man. Protective genes run through his body. He takes care of the kids. He takes care of me. My heart starts to slow at the thought, the anger subsiding a little.
“Well, most likely, I will ignore the letter, then another one will come, along with a suggestion to meet them at their swanky office in the city. That is what happened to the fruit shop down the road.” I watch him rub his brow, the stress of the unknown building. We can do this. We can save the school. We have to. There is no other choice. If I don’t have George or this school, then my life takes a severe turn into the cold dark lanes of poverty. I’ve been there, and I don’t want to go back.
I think back to the family-run shop which is no longer. I did love that fruit shop. Their strawberries were amazing. Now instead of strawberries, there are parking problems and congestion on the adjoining streets.
“Imagine what you can do with five million, though,” I murmur, remembering that he and Glenda wanted to take a cruise before she got sick. They never got to make that trip.
“Not what needs to be done. What needs to be done is educating these kids. Give them the right start in life. I want to spend the years I have left looking after you and Rosie. You’re like a daughter to me, and these kids… we are all they've got.” I smile then. My daughter Rosie is the apple of everybody’s eye. The holder of my heart.
“But I will need your help with this,” George says, bringing my attention back to the subject at hand. I admire his determination. Most people would take the money and run.
“Sure. Anything,” I offer, because I would do anything for George. He helped me at my lowest, and I am in deep debt to him.
“I want your support. I want your legal expertise. You know these city folk as well as I do. They will stop at nothing to get their greedy hands on my land, and I need someone who understands all this jargon to help me navigate what they will throw at me. I am not selling, no matter what. I will die before that happens.” He is steadfast in his words. They fill me with both pride and determination. We can do this. I will do this… I hope.
My pulse stalls for a beat, my past coming back to me and making me dizzy. Something that I skirt around daily. The dark cloud that constantly shrouds my life. My ex is the sole reason I didn’t further my legal career, solitude being just one of his many tactics that impacted my life. I nod to George then. Pressing my lips together, I straighten my shoulders that are already heightened to my ears.
“But I’ve never practiced,” I say, my confidence quickly dwindling. I have no idea how useful I will be, and I don’t want to mess this up even more.
“You studied law at college, and that’s enough for this. You’re smart, Emily. I need you with me. I need you to represent me.” I can’t turn him down. My college textbooks disappeared from my life a long time ago, along with mostly everything else. But I will do anything I can to support George.
“Tell me what you need,” I confirm I am all in. Because George is right. I do know these city types. And they stop at nothing until they get what they want.
No matter the consequences.
CHAPTER FOUR - BENJAMIN
I rub my face, seeing double. My eyes are dry and tired as they fly across my cell phone, reading an urgent email from my client, Jonathan Beasley.
“Benjamin! No phones at the table!” my mother berates me like I am twelve and not thirty-one, and my eyes flick to hers, our matching scowls a reflection of our relationship. I grit my teeth so I don’t say something I am sure I will regret. I am stressed with work, and dealing with my mother is the last thing I need right now.
“Fuck me,” Tennyson murmurs from where he sits next to me. Mother’s stink eyes move to him, but she remains silent. They haven’t talked for years. I am not sure how that conversation would even go now.
“What’s happening at the firm?” my older brother, Harrison, asks. I haven’t seen him for a few weeks. His new position of governor has taken him from CEO of our firm to traveling around the state, shaking hands and kissing babies. Now as CEO of Rothschild Law in his place, my workload has exploded, and my stress levels have peaked. There is a lot to do and even more for me to prove.
“Beasley wants a meeting about the property he is considering buying on the outskirts,” I tell him. And as soon as I open my mouth to give him more details as I finish reading the email, I’m predictably interrupted.
“Benjamin!” my mother almost screams again, so I pocket my cell and pick up my cutlery. The meat on my plate is dry and unappealing, just like the atmosphere around the dinner table. But the sooner I eat, the sooner I can leave and get home to my den and bury my head back into work. This deal is not going to make itself, and I need to move fast.
“He mentioned that to me at an event the other week. I told him to reach out. Put Michael on it. He will get that sorted,” Harrison offers, and I nod. I appreciate his advice. He, more than anyone else, knows what time and energy it takes to run a law firm and Rothschild Law is not just any firm. Our client list is long and profitable and one I want to maintain. Harrison started the firm, and I want to build it now, make it my own.
“What property is he looking at?” my brother Eddie pipes up. The youngest of us four boys, he now manages our real estate portfolio, so his interest is not personal.
“Some school, William Heights,” I say, looking back at my email and trying to gather the facts. My teeth grind into the meat, my mouth taking my stress out on the meal.
“For God’s sake, boys! No phones!” my mother shrills. I take some deep breaths and remind myself why we all bother coming here for our regular monthly dinner with her. She is not the easiest woman to be with. In fact, she is downright despicable most of the time. But we are all she has, and her life is not yet settled after my father died.
“I’m out,” Tennyson says as his cutlery clinks against his plate and his chair scrapes on the floor. Standing, he throws his napkin on the table in frustration. I rub my head, wondering if there will ever be a time when we can all have a nice dinner together, but deep down, I know that day is a long way off.
“I’ll walk out with you. I need to get home to Beth, and then I have to be in DC early in the morning,” Harrison says, standing slower, and I watch Tennyson throw back what is left of the whiskey he was drinking before sliding the empty glass on the table and stalking off to the door.
“Thanks, Mom.” Harrison says his goodbyes, giving Eddie and me a brief nod before he follows Tennyson out the door. The room is quiet for a beat, and I see my mother purse her lips in annoyance before she takes a big breath and looks right at me. My nostrils flare as I wait for her assault.
“So… Benjamin. Tell me, how is Sasha?” she asks before putting a pea-sized amount of food in her mouth. I watch her chew it over and over like it is steak, not the soft potato mash her chef prepared. She chews exactly fifteen times before she swallows, taking a small sip of water and repeating the action again.
“Sasha and I broke up a few months ago, Mom. I told you that.” She doesn’t care. She only cares about appearances, not whether any of us are happy with the women we meet.
“Of course, but I thought you would be back together by now. She is fantastic for your reputation,” she says proudly, and I cringe. Sasha was a gold digger, plain and simple. Like every other woman I have ever met. Only after money or status. It is so hard to find a genuine connection these days, so I prefer not to bother looking anymore.
