Page 70 of His Rules

“O-kay. How? I thought the entire industry is suffering.”

“It is,” I assured him. “That’s why I want to go in a different direction.”

He sat back hard against the seat, staring out the front windshield at the massive building in front of us. “Meaning?”

“A full luxury hospitality business including hotels. The Winfield brand.”

“We had that. Neither one of us wanted it.”

“Because we were idiots.”

He guffawed. “You’re admitting that?”

“Not that you wanted a part of the business either, but it’s time for you to shit-can your playboy lifestyle so we can make a go of this.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Well, think hard, brother. This shit is going down in a few days, a week tops.”

“Wow. Does this change in attitude have anything to do with a gorgeous blonde who currently works for you? I say currently since you tend to run off anyone who works closely by your side.”

“I’m not running this one off. She’s too valuable.”

“Well, shit. You like this girl. Really like her. I knew it. I could tell the other night.”

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions, but yes, I do like and admire her.”

“I assume you have plans?”

“Yes, but they involve our father.”

“So that’s why we are here.” He seemed incredulous.

I grinned and opened my door. “Just go with it for now and I’ll explain more later. You are one of the few people I can trust.”

“Does that extend to Kacey?”

“It does. Now, come on. Time to get serious about business.”

I’d called ahead so our father had suggested the club. Perhaps he had an inkling of what I wanted to discuss. He wouldn’t want our mother hearing about his foibles. We were known in the club, both carrying a lifetime membership thanks to our father.

At a hundred-thousand-dollar entrance fee for each, dear ole Dad had believed membership was the perfect high school graduation gift. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d set foot in the place. How many birthday parties had been at this very location? Too many.

The concierge recognized us immediately, leading us through the dining room to our father’s favorite table. Fortunately, it was private, the other tables several feet away. This wasn’t about embarrassing him, but to garner his assistance.

I’d played with the numbers for days, handling market analysis while learning everything I could about possible competitors. It had been a fascinating and informative weekend. A long time coming. I’d made the mistake of resting on my laurels.

That’s how Drake had gotten his hooks into the operation.

Father stood as soon as he noticed we were walking in. He already had his signature martini in front of him, an afternoon indulgence only for when he was away from our mother.

“Pops,” I said as I immediately reached for the back of the chair where I’d be sitting.

“Boys. A pleasant surprise. How long has it been since we’ve enjoyed a long lunch?” He had a genuine smile on his face.

“We’ve both been busy, Dad,” Steven said as he thumped down in a chair.

Pops gave my brother the same sour look as usual. I was surprised he wasn’t giving him the talk about wasting his life.

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