Page 64 of Café Diablo

It’s Mr. Charles Wright, my father’s associate, who’s probably come in to fetch his wife, who happens to be one of the women snickering at the other table.

“Mr. Wright, hello!” I stand up quickly and shake the man’s hand. “It’s very nice to see you.”

Wright’s handshake is as firm and dubious as the politician’s smile that covers his face. He’s a finance man, complete with sheet-white hair and the jowls of baggy skin around his neck to match.

“I haven’t seen you at the club in some time.” He keeps a hold of my hand, wringing it dry.

“Yes, well, I’ve been busy,” I respond politely, trying to extract my hand.

“Well, of course you are!” Wright replies, completely ignoring Olivia, who is a small speck in the corner of my periphery. Her arms are wrapped over her front, perhaps hoping to disappear. “Especially with your father moving forward with the new branch in Southern California,” Wright continues. “It’s a bold move, but I think he has a point about the western markets.”

My eyebrows tick together in confusion—whatSouthern California branch?

I immediately school my features, as cold rips up my spine, allowing Mr. Wright to continue to rattle off information like I’m in on every small detail my father has told him. When the truth is, I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about. Though, it’s starting to sound like I should, and my father is in the middle of pulling something big over my head.

“Your father had me go through his financial projections and assets a few weeks back,” Wright continues. “Liquidating the Hawaii branch and moving everything to the mainland is a huge shift, you’re going to have to rebuild all your relationships in Orange County. I can help you with that, by the way. It’s not a problem.”

My lips tighten because he just dropped a bomb on my plate without even realizing it.

“Um, that’s very kind of you,” I say smoothly, trying to ease the tightness in my jaw. “Well, my father never does anything without calculating all the risks carefully, as you’re well aware.”

“I assume this means you’re moving with the branch then?” Wright asks. “To Laguna Beach, or Dana Point? I get all those California coastal towns confused. Which reminds me—” He holds up a finger before poking it into my shoulder like a sharp needle. “We need to round up the chaps and have one last round of golf before you ship off. I still need to redeem myself from the time you crushed me last Christmas.”

“That’s very kind of you, Charles,” I say, squeezing him on the shoulder. “But it’s not necessary. You’re golf game doesn’t need any redemption.”

“Said like a true scoundrel!” Wright laughs. “Of course you want to leave with your reputation untarnished. Ha! You really are your father’s son.”

My gut twists, especially considering the fact that my father is about to pull the rug out from under my practice and he hasn’t even told me about it! Normally, I’d be beaming at a comparison to my father. And yet, in the last year, I keep coming face-to-face with reasons for why he’s the last person I should’ve spent my life idolizing.

“It was wonderful to see you, Mr. Wright,” I say politely, trying to dismiss him, because I now have about three-hundred phone calls to make. Someone at my firm has to know what my father was up to, and I’m going to find out who knew and for how long! “Please give my regards to the Mrs.”

I nod to his wife and that’s the moment Wright notices Olivia sitting at the table below me. His eyes flare like he just spilled the beans about my big move in front of the woman I’m trying to sleep with.

“Right, of course,” he mumbles apologetically, before shuffling off to his wife and her friends.

My brain is whirring.

This isexactlythe kind of stunt my father would pull.

Covert. Stealthy. Strike when one least expects it.

Only,I’mthe target?

Me!?

I thought our father was over the whole Connor debacle. The one where I chose to keep my brother out of jail rather than siding with my father. It was two years of bullshit, and silent treatment, and jumping through hoops to get my father to realize I was still the son he’d raised, even if Connor wasn’t. And yes, when Connor played the F-U card and it became clear to all of us—myself included—that he was giving up on being a part of the family business, the shit hit the fan—again. But I thought we’d figured out how to be civil. How to be adults and move on.

Obviously, I was wrong.

Liquidating the branch?Mybranch! That’s my father once again punishing me for something Connor’s done.

What the F-ing Hell?!

I sit back down—completely blindsided—only to look up and see that Olivia is pale. And not just pale, but the freckles on her face have turned white as snow.

“You—you’re moving?” she asks quietly, a slight tremble in her voice.

Shit.

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