Page 71 of These Pucking Boys

June looks at me with a deer-in-the-headlights glint in her eyes. On top of the edginess, guilt enters my chest. It was a dick move not to warn her about my father. But there was a chance she wouldn’t have agreed to come, and I needed her with me tonight.

“Let me get drinks first,” I tell Melissa, then turn to June. “What would you like, sweetheart?”

“Nothing too strong.”

“Champagne?”

The last time we drank champagne was right before our first time. The memory is at the forefront of my mind, and I wonder if she’s thinking about it too.

“Yes, that’d be great.”

“Oh, nothing like bubbles to get you in the party mood.” Melissa jokes.

I almost say this isn’t a party, but it wouldn’t be fair to June. I dragged her here, knowing what I had to face. I get the drinks, and then, with her hand in mine, I look for my father. I might as well get this over with. I’m focused on not bumping into anyone when I hear my name called.

“Jake?”

I turn and find my brother standing beside a beautiful blonde who isn’t his wife. Typical. I haven’t seen Gregory in three years, and if he hadn’t spoken my name, I wouldn’t have recognized him. He looks ten years older than he is. It’s not only the weight gain but also the bags under his eyes. Gregory might be our father’s favorite, but living under his thumb has taken a toll on him. I’d pity him if he weren’t a despicable human being. Growing up, he followed in my father’s footsteps to make my life miserable.

“Gregory. I barely recognized you.” I turn to his companion. “And you’re definitely not his wife.”

The woman winces. Maybe I shouldn’t have put her on the spot, but I doubt she was unaware that Gregory is married. If she hadn’t known, she’d be making a scene.

“She’s a friend,” Gregory replies in a clipped tone. “And who is your date? Do I even need to know her name, or is she another flavor of the week?”

I bristle in an instant. My entire body is poised to fight, but June squeezes my hand and replies, “My name is June Summers. And I’m not food.”

Gregory’s head snaps back, and I smile. He wasn’t expecting that sassy response from June. Still grinning, I look at her. Gregory ruffled her feathers, and her expression of defiance is hot as hell. Pride swells in my chest, making my heart speed up.

“June is my guest, and if you can’t treat her with respect, this catching-up convo is over.”

Gregory narrows his eyes and clenches his jaw tightly. He never got used to me talking back. He forgets it’s been a long time since I was a young kid looking for his older brother’s approval and affection.

“Jake, I wondered when you would find us,” my father says from behind me, making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

My entire body tenses, especially my shoulders and neck. His preferred method of punishment, when I was a kid, was to grab me from behind whenever I did something that displeased him. I guess I still have PTSD from that. I finish the champagne, hoping the drink will help me relax. In hindsight, I should have gotten something stronger.

I turn, forcing a smug grin to my lips. “I didn’t. Greg found me. Did you enjoy the game?”

His shrewd eyes narrow. “I was enjoying myself until my youngest son decided to act like a thug.”

I laugh derisively. “If you don’t want to see fights, I suggest you stick to golf.”

He switches his attention to June, but it’s fleeting. He doesn’t acknowledge her. No surprise. He believes all women are beneath him. He’s a chauvinist pig. It pains me that we share DNA.

“I head back to New York late tomorrow. My secretary made reservations at Providence. Be there at seven-thirty sharp.Alone.”

Unreal. I’m an adult who hasn’t depended on this man’s money in over a decade, but he still believes I’m at his beck and call.

“Sorry, Father. You’ll have to enjoy your dinner without me. I already have plans.”

His eyes flash with anger. “Cancel them. Whatever you have planned isn’t more important than spending time with your family.”

“Picking up trash would rank higher on my list of priorities,” I retort.

He grabs my arm and yanks me closer to whisper in my ear. “Don’t fuck with me, boy. You might think you don’t need me now, but remember, I can take your career away in the blink of an eye. I bet the press would love to know how you almost killed someone and never paid for your crime.”

My entire body goes stiff, and my blood runs cold. My father hasn’t mentioned that incident since he made it disappear, and I did my best to put it behind me. I don’t regret what I did. The scum I almost killed deserved what he got. Even though charges weren’t pressed against me, if the media finds out, my career will be over.

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