Page 57 of My Ex-Fiance's Best Men
“We heard. Yet our company is the fastest growing in our market sector.” I chuckle before continuing. “We wiped the floor clean with Dwight at the last fintech conference.”
“August, Dominic, enough! You need to get your priorities straight. This whole business with Phoebe Baldwin has to end. You can’t see it now, but it will drive your company down. There are repercussions for your lifestyle.”
Dominic scoffs and shakes his head. “Well, then, thank you for reminding us why we chose to build our own business instead of falling in line like good little soldiers. At least we’re free.”
“You’re not as free as you think you are,” our father says, then breaks into a coughing fit that sounds a lot worse than the last time we spoke.
“You okay, Dad?” Dominic asks.
“I’m fine. You, on the other hand, are anything but!”
Helen’s town car takes a right turn into a slightly shadier part of the city. Nothing in this area should appeal to a woman like her. It immediately sets alarm bells ringing in the back of my head, and I motion for Dominic to end the call.
“Dad, as much as I enjoy catching up with you, we have to go. We have work to do.”
“August, for the love of God, get your priorities straight and cut the shit before you embarrass yourselves and me!”
“See ya, Dad,” Dominic replies and ends the call with one tap. “Fucking hell.”
“You heard him, right?”
“He’s getting worse,” he says with a deep sigh. “I’ll ask his doctors for an update. We might have to check in with them more often from now on.”
My stomach tightens under a torrent of grim thoughts. Having a contentious relationship with our father was manageable until his health started to decline. Having a contentious relationship with ourailingfather has made our lives a tad bit harder. We need to maintain tight boundaries without abandoning our empathy. But the old man makes it twice as difficult with his attitude.
“Where the hell is she going?” Dominic asks, changing the subject. I don’t mind.
“This is the slightly more uppity part of Chinatown.”
“Shopping, maybe?”
I frown. “No. It’s mostly residential buildings ahead. The Golden Lotus,” I say, recognizing the valet parking outside one of the city’s swankiest and most exclusive Chinese-cuisine-themed restaurants. “Let’s assume it’s a business lunch, though I don’t remember Baldwin Enterprises dealing with anyone from China.”
The Golden Lotus occupies the entire ground floor of a luxury hotel, known to host private parties and elite business lunches—mostly for high-end Asian guests. Chinese, Japanese, Korean, and Thai heavyweights from a variety of industries prefer this place to the usual Astoria or other five-star options across the city.
We pull over at a reasonable distance, our eyes peeled as Helen steps out of the car and is greeted by a tall and lanky man with short, brown hair and beady eyes.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“That’s Perry Kang,” Dominic mutters, quick to snap photos.
“Why do I know that name?”
“He hosts private poker tournaments. High stakes, huge buy-ins, heavily secured. And entirely illegal. He’s got Triad lieutenants and Yakuza lords among his players. He sends his ladies all the way out to Reno and Vegas to hook big whales for his games. Theo and I attended a couple of events a few years back.”
“Why didn’t I go?”
“You were studying for your master’s at the time. Theo and I had a short-lived rebellious streak,” Dominic replies. “We got bored waiting for you to finish.”
“Ahh, I remember now. You came back looking like shit.”
“Well, we both lost a lot of money,” he laughs. “Some lessons have to be learned the hard way, I suppose.” A frown casts a deep shadow under his eyes. “All that aside, why is Helen meeting with a guy like Kang?”
We watch the interaction unfold. Kang is warm and friendly, gently stroking her upper arm as they talk outside the restaurant. The town car pulls out and parks a few yards further down the street. A few seconds later, the driver steps out for a smoke.
“I’m not sure. But they seem to be cozy and comfortable around each other.”
Helen takes a green velvet pouch out of her Birkin bag.Click. Click. Click.Dominic’s camera registers everything.
