Page 1 of His Gift
CHAPTER ONE
Shawn
Ah, Christmas! That special time of year when Santa visits children around the world to fulfill their hearts’ desires, when sweet and savory treats abound, helping everyone put on extra pounds, and when families come together in the bliss of devotedness to celebrate the season with warmth and affection.
Unless you’re my family, that is.
“Fourth quarter profits aren’t anywhere close to where I want them to be,” my father, the great and powerful Tristan Wythe said, his voice still managing to sound powerful, even through my car’s speaker as I drove along the grey and slightly damp highway between Barrington and Norwalk. “We should have done better in our retail sector over the summer, but I know that’s not your fault.”
“It’s not Walt’s fault either,” I mentioned, checking the traffic around me in my mirrors before signaling to get into the right-hand lane. The exit for Norwalk was coming up, and I wanted to be ready for it. “Consumer sentiment is down across the boardbecause of all the uncertainty after the collapse of Universal Motors. A lot of people are out of work at the worst time of year. Walt has nothing to do with their reduced spending.”
“Your brother can speak for himself,” my father said, which caused me to make a slightly sour face at the bumper of the car in front of me. Walt could definitely speak for himself. Whether Dad heard him or not, especially when he got defensive and protective of Wythe Industries, which he always was, was another thing entirely. “At least we’re on track to make up for any shortfalls with holiday sales.”
“We always do,” I said, preparing to exit the highway. “Well, almost.”
“Never mind all that,” Dad went on. “I see that our philanthropic division is doing splendidly right now, which I always had full faith it would. With you at its head, the Wythe Foundation will do amazing things.”
I could hear my dad’s pleased smile through the phone call. I was never certain if it was entirely deserved or if he only praised me because I was the alpha. I was never certain whether Walt generally deserved the frowns and censure he got or if it was just because he was the omega. And I couldn’t figure out if Dad and Papa had real affection for us but just weren’t the types to show it or if they thought of their two sons as additional commodities.
Yep. Family dynamics. They could be as cliché as a greeting card, but that didn’t make them any less painful.
“I’ve got everything with this year’s toy drive in order,” I reported as I came to a stop at the first traffic light off the highway then turned right onto the major artery road through Norwalk. “Trudy has everything in order for the charitable donations the Wythe Foundation is making this year. All that’s left is to finish planning and executing the big Christmas Eve supper.”
The Christmas Eve supper was the keystone of the Wythe Foundation’s year. It was more than just an event where families in need were given presents to put under their Christmas trees. It drew on some of the largest corporations and donors to provide not only the toys, clothing, and home goods, it filled the coffers for the rest of the causes the Wythe Foundation sponsored as well.
The more successful every division of Wythe Industries became, the more our family focused on the Wythe Foundation. Dad put me in charge of it a few years ago, since I wasn’t all that interested in becoming a commercial tycoon or tech billionaire. Not that I couldn’t have handled the commercial or tech sides of Dad’s vast empire. It just wasn’t where my interests lay, unlike Walt. Walt loved solving puzzles with as many moving pieces as possible. That’s what big business was, after all.
“You know how much I care about this supper and everything it stands for,” Dad said, his voice just warm enough to remind me he wasn’t a heartless machine. “It’s the one that gets the most press coverage after all.”
That was true, but that wasn’t why it had such a special place in Dad’s heart. Despite his coldness and the rigorous way he’d raised me and Walt, my dad was actually a good guy. Most of the time.
“I’ll take care of everything, Dad,” I said, trying to reassure him. Although I wasn’t sure reassurance was what Dad was looking for. Tristan Wythe might have been good at heart, but he could bust balls with the best of them, which was why so many people in the business and charity world were terrified of him. Sometimes, Walt and I were terrified of him and his exacting standards, too.
Speaking of that devil, a message flashed on my center consol that I had another call coming in. A call from Walt.
“Dad, I’ve got another call coming in that I need to deal with,” I said, rushing to end things with him. “I’ll touch base with you later.”
“You do that,” Dad said, then ended the call from his end.
I had less than three seconds to breathe before tapping to accept Walt’s call and being blasted with, “This is all your fault, isn’t it.”
I marshalled my patience and said, “Good morning to you, too, Walt.”
Walt huffed impatiently at the other end of the call. “I woke up this morning to a long list of demands from Dad about getting the commercial division back in the black.”
“I got the same memo,” I said, gripping my steering wheel tightly as I turned onto a side street and drove on to a more discreet section of Norwalk.
“The same memo, but Dad had nothing but praise for your division,” Walt snapped on.
I breathed in, then let out the breath, trying not to make my stress management techniques too obvious to my brother. “It’ll be fine,” I said, making my voice as calm and friendly as possible. “Retail always has its problems in the fall. I saw some of the early fourth-quarter figures, and you’ve been doing a great job of mitigating the overall financial climate.”
“Are you patronizing me?” Walt asked, his voice sharp.
I wanted to pull my hair out. “No, not at all. I genuinely think you’re doing a good job.”
Silence followed my compliment.
“Look, why don’t you come into the office tomorrow and we’ll have lunch,” I went on. “I’m in Norwalk today on some personal business, but it’s been ages since we’ve actually sat down as brothers.”
