Page 15 of The Enemy

“Bro, are you even paying attention?” Tatum asked.

Wes coughed to cover up his laugh. We both tended to tune the guy out half the time. Loyalty—that’s what kept him in my orbit. Living in mansions, you might as well live in a glass house where everyone knows your business. Rumors and secrets are what kept everyone going.

“Yeah, I’ll ask, but I’m not sure. I just moved to a new department.”

Tatum rolled his eyes.

“Just tell your new daddy. I’m sure he’d love to help you out.”

My jaw clenched, but I didn’t say anything. Wes was less tolerant toward Tatum’s shit than I was, but then again, he had no loyalty toward him. Tatum and I went back a decade. When Ihad no friends, he was there. When people talked shit about my family, he never repeated anything they said.

His parents hadn’t snubbed me because they were glad their son had made a new friend. Being new money, they didn’t involve themselves in the bullshit politics played by everyone else.

“I already told you it’s not that simple. I’ve been busting my ass off for the last two years working my way up the company. I don’t see much of Richard.”

“Don’t you mean your new daddy?” he mocked.

Before I could snap at him, Wes spoke.

“Tate, you see those girls at the bar?” He nodded toward the location. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you bought them a drink.”

“You know what, you’re right.”

He got up and left us without a backward glance.

“His parents fucked up by spoiling him,” Wes muttered, and I agreed. We were all rich and spoiled to an extent. Tatum was an only child, and he was more entitled than us. Maybe it was the fact that my family was fucked up or that Wes’s parents didn’t come from money that we appreciated what we had in a way Tatum didn’t.

Even if I had felt like an only child growing up, the shadow of my siblings was always there. I had two older siblings, a brother and a sister, and now I also had a younger stepsister, but she didn’t count—she couldn’t count.

“You ever going to tell me why you changed your last name?”

If I could confide in someone, it would be Wes. He would listen without judging.

“My sister celebrated her sixtieth birthday a few weeks ago,” was my response.

“I know, I saw the newspaper article. The whole family was there. Your brother is getting ready to retire, too. His son will take over the Caldwell Enterprises.”

“You know, growing up, I didn’t know why they didn’t like me. They acted like I wasn’t even there when they visited our dad.”

Wes sipped his drink, probably getting his thoughts together before responding. I’d never talked to anyone about this. People speculated all the time, but the reality was fucked up enough that I figured that if it never got brought up, people would forget about where I came from and instead focus on where I was going.

“So, you guys never built a relationship?”

“They loathe Pricilla. They never bothered to try.”

My mother had done a lot to give me a good life, or so she claims.

“And your father never told them anything?”

There was nothing graceful about my snort.

“By the time I was born, Nathaniel Jr. was already forty, and Celest thirty-five. My father tried his best, though. I know he loved me.”

Just not more than he loved them, I wanted to add, but I bit my lip.

Wesley shifted in his seat, and I raised an eyebrow to prod him to continue with whatever he wanted to ask now that I was sharing information.

“Richard is younger than the age your father was when he had you, right?”

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