Page 55 of The Older Brother
My eyes lock onto my father’s, and I swear there’s a computer in that man’s head constantly scanning for danger. Several seconds pass before he speaks, and during that time, he simply stares at me and contorts his face into various expressions of suspicion and doubt.
“If you’ve had such a good month, why don’t you pay me back those legal fees and rid yourself of your family obligations?” He pulls open a side drawer and takes out a cigar box, opening the lid to offer one to me and my brother. I shake my head, but Caleb practically dives in for a Partagas stogie.
“Do you even know how to smoke that thing?” I mutter.
Caleb shrugs. “Sure, I do.”
He doesn’t. But hearing him cough and choke will be amusing, so more power to him.
My father clips the end of his then hands the guillotine to my brother. He flails with it for a few seconds but eventually gets his cigar clipped.
“I could pay you back, and yeah, it would save me from your frequent lectures on everything I’m doing wrong. But . . .” I draw in a deep breath for effect.
My dad lights his cigar and takes a few puffs. I don’t mind the smell of cigar smoke. It reminds me of my father’s home office when we were kids, in our first house, before he had an entire building downtown to go to.
“Those lectures are sinking in a bit, aren’t they?” My father took the bait, and it takes all my inner strength not to audibly exhale in relief. I waggle my head and glance up, playing the part of the slacker he thinks I am.
“Not all of them, but the money ones . . . maybe a little. Or a lot.”
My father laughs out hard and flattens a palm on his desk, and my brother flinches in response. He’s been trying to lighthis cigar for a few seconds. I’m surprised that little stunt didn’t make him swallow it.
“Here,” I say, taking the cigar from my brother and lighting it for him. It’s performative, mainly to show off for my father. A man who can smoke a cigar is a real man, at least in David Anderson’s world. I hand the lit cigar to Caleb, and as predicted, he coughs his way through his first puff.
“Lightweight,” my dad mutters.
I smirk but cover my mouth with my palm before laughter slips out.
“So, you finally want to make some real money, eh?” My dad leans to his left and pulls open a file drawer. He snags a dark brown folder and slaps it on the center of his desk, flipping it open and revealing documents that look a whole lot like the ones Steve-Mike showed me in the diner.
“I’d like to, yeah. And of course, I would pay you back the money for the lawyer once I’ve started earning. If that’s how any of this works.” I’m playing dumb. I may not have the fancy college degree he wanted for me, but I have a pretty good handle on finances and investments. It’s impossible to grow up in our house and not pick up a thing or two simply from osmosis.
“I appreciate that. But I like seeing you make that money work for you. I’d rather you keep it.” He holds my gaze just long enough for his words to not quite sit right. I think he likes having leverage.
I nod, though, and force a faint smile on my lips, playing the part of the eager little boy who is happy to get a gift from dad.
“Okay. Well, can you maybe walk me through this?” I scoot my chair in closer and pull one of the documents toward me.
“Hey, whoa, whoa. Why does he get to invest?” Caleb steps right into the little brother with a chip on his shoulder role.
“I’m sorry, did you suddenly have your own money, son?” My father gazes at my brother over the rims of his glasses, the way a fourth-grade teacher does a kid talking in class.
It’s hard not to chuckle under my breath when my dad smacks Caleb down. I’m not sure which bad guy I dislike more in this room. But I need to get something going with my dad sooner rather than later, and if my brother insists on whining every time I’m in here, it’s going to drag this sting operation out for years. Besides, his name is on those contracts too. I may as well use all the tools in the box.
“I wouldn’t be totally against having his input on things. I mean, this is what he wants to do after college. And I know you’d like us to get along better, at least on paper.” I shift a heavy gaze from my brother to my dad, playing up the appearance that I’m only trying to please my dad.
Our father chews at his lips and nods slowly.
“It would be nice to see both of my boys’ names together on a few things around here, flexing our family prowess, so to speak.”
I want to vomit, but this is the kind of thing that really gets my dad off. He loves power. Always has.
“Is this investment, is it the one you’d recommend?” I flip a few more pages around, and Caleb scoots in, immediately sliding them closer to him.
“This one, or one like it. We have a few hot things in the pipeline. I have a few meetings lined up this week. Maybe you’d like to join me.” My father’s offer has me nearly kicking my feet.
“I’d like that.” I meet his gaze and do my best to reflect something close to admiration. It was naïve to think I’d get him to spill his insider secrets to me today, but this is a good start for sure.
“I can make anything this week,” Caleb pipes in.
