Page 168 of Unwritten Rules

“Follow her and get some of the guys to look into her dead man. Something is fishy there.”

Leaving him in my office, I climbed the antique stairs that squeaked under each foot. I memorized this house as a toddler, unaware that I’d be grown and conducting business of my own. The dark wood and great craftsmanship became old news to me after years of seeing it. Everything was grand and expertly crafted. A truly traditional mansion with reinforcements in security for the modern day.

I stopped at my grandfather's door, mentally preparing myself for the final countdown to April. Blondie’s birthday. The moment of truth. We were so close, yet so far from knowing what would happen.

My knuckles rapped at the door, and I let myself in.

“Brent,” he said, lighting up a cigarette.

My name? When did I get upgraded?

“New intel complicating the Montgomery situation. What’s the game plan?”

A puff of smoke swirled around his pensive face. I could see that he was having trouble with all the problems piling up around us. Whatever plans he was preparing might have a slim chance of success.

He always had a contingency, though.

“Continue as normal.” His voice was softer today. Less angry.

The lines in his face were deeper than usual and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His age showed. To top it all off, he was smoking a cigarette instead of his signature cigar and there were no bottles of alcohol in sight.

Something was off.

“We are also working on cleaning up house at the Montgomery Group. We have men combing through the company looking for any overlooked details. Legal documents undermining Fallon have been planted for years. We need to figure out loopholes for our end.” The squeak of the leather chair beneath me was the loudest sound in the room as I leaned forward.

He was staring at an old picture on the wall. Pictures of the past. The easier days to stay on top. “Tell me about the girl.”

“Sir?”

“Tell me abouther. What is she like?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. My mouth hung open slightly. “She’s, uh, nice. A bit green behind the ears but has a tenacious spirit.”

“Is she ready?” His eyes met mine and I knew what he was asking.

“She will be. Initial shock has worn off and she’s continuing as normal.”

Preparing myself for what I knew was coming next, I pulled out my flask and took a swig.

“I see her as my own, you know. Her mother was family to me. Imagine my surprise at the enigma of her not wanting to bring that little girl around,butshe had her own reasonings for things as I have mine. Some days I wonder if I did the same for you as Maria did for her, if you’d be a different man.”

Another pause. Was he telling me the regrets of his past now? We haven’t had a conversation like this—at least none I can easily remember. The fucker had to be dying or something to be talking like this.

I waited silently for him to continue. Interrupting him was asking for a death sentence.

He sighed. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle the company is my point. What we do is a balancing act—the line between life and death. Maria is—was—our family and that girl is the next generation. The future of everything that’s been built over generations. We’ve grown so large, and only with the right leaders, can we keep it.”

Lighting up my own cigarette, I settled into the chair again, wondering where the conversation was heading. If he was announcing his death, I’d be shocked. If he was telling me that I’m the next generation to lead his company, I wouldn’t believe him. Considering how he told me I was worth less than shit in the yard, it would be a cold day in hell.

“Look, boy, you’ve been picking up the ropes like I knew you would. You’ve been in every room learning every perspective.” Ashing his cigarette, he folded his hands on the table. “Are you going to be ready to take all of this over?”

“As in after college?”

“It might be sooner than you’d think. College doesn’t teach you jack shit, and you know it. It’s not like you went there to learn anyway. Once that girl hits twenty-one, hell is going to break loose and a stupid little university for rich brats isn’t going to matter. You’re not going back after this semester.”

That’s not what I expected. Leave school? Stop playing baseball? Join the company in a legitimate manner?

“I don’t have much left, and I enjoy baseball.”

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