Page 143 of Boss of the Year
“Totally,” Daniel continued like Lucas hadn’t said a thing. “So, anyway, I was wondering if you could wire me an advance on this month’s allowance, brother. Mom’s being difficult, and don’t tell her, but I might have had a teensy little accident with the Aston.”
Lucas bit back a curse. “You crashed another car, Daniel?”
“The fence came out of nowhere, I swear it. And so did the ocean. It was insane, I tell you. Craziest clam dig I’ve been to in years. Totally worth it.”
Lucas rubbed his forehead and only just stopped himself from launching into a lecture he knew his brother wouldn’t listen to anyway.
But there was something else he needed to know first. “Was Marie there?”
There was noise in the background. A woman’s voice, sweet and high. For a moment, Lucas’s cold, empty heart stopped.
“Marie who? Oh, you mean the cook?”
“She’s a chef, not a cook,” Lucas grumbled.
“What happened? Did she fuck up on the job or something?”
“She did nothing. And you’ve been texting her for the last three weeks. Aren’t you in love with her?”
“In love?” Daniel sounded sincerely surprised to hear it. “Oh! You mean what I told Mom. Honestly, bro, it was the only thing I could think of to get her off my ass about the senator’s daughter. But, whatever, I could be love with the girl if you ever brought her back. I mean, she’s gorgeous, you have to admit. And the little minx is really good at playing hard to get. Has she been asking about me? She has, hasn’t she?”
“And Emma Hubbard?” Lucas barked. “Is she a little ‘minx’ too?”
“God, I told you, it’s not mine. I’m not recognizing shit until she gets a paternity test.”
“She got one two weeks ago, you jackass. The child is yours, and she’s having it. Which you damn well know, even though you’re gallivanting up and down the goddamn beach like a clown instead of acting like an impendingfather, Daniel.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Lucas could practically hear the gears of his brother’s gin-soaked brain turning.
Finally: “I can’t do it, Lucas. I can’t…you know me. I can’t be some kind of father.”
For a moment, Lucas almost felt sorry for his brother. Daniel had always been the golden child of the family, which seemed like a gift until moments like these. Praised when he didn’t deserve it. Given everything he ever wanted. Adored for the bare minimum. His life had turned him into an empty charmer, someone who was completely unprepared for the difficulties that every person had to face at one point in time or another.
“Besides, it’s not my fault she won’t do the right thing and get rid of it.”
Not my fault, he said. It was alwaysnot my fault.
Just like that, every generous thought was erased from Lucas’s mind. “I think the right thing was not drinking a bottle of vodka before you fucked a nineteen-year-old senator’s daughter, Daniel.”
“Jesus, Lucas.” Daniel’s voice turned down a curve of petulance, the way it had done since he was five years old and his nanny had asked him to pick up his toys. “So what, now I have to give up my whole life to protect this family’s assets?”
“Could be your turn,” Lucas muttered.
“I didn’t ask to be born into this shit. I didn’t ask for any of this responsibility.”
“What responsibility?” Lucas erupted. “This is the first thing you have ever been asked to do for this family, while I’ve dedicated every second of my adult life to building the fortune you spend hand over fist on women, cars, yachts, and God knows what else. The least you can do is marry the girl, even if you barely see her after that. She’s already having your child. Tying it up with a bow will keep her father in line with the appropriations bill and give you in a new Aston every fucking month if that’s what you want. Just do the right thing for once in your pathetic life and think of more than just yourself!”
Lucas was shouting now, loud enough that Nigel, his London driver, had the good sense to put in headphones before he turned onto the thoroughfare that ran alongside the Thames. All the resentment Lucas had buried for years, all the anger at being treated like the family fixer rather than a person with his own needs and desires, came pouring out.
“Lucas. That’s quite enough.”
The sound of his stepmother’s voice on the line made Lucas feel like a scolded child, which only fueled his anger further.
“Winnifred.”
“I can hear you’re upset, but there’s no need for theatrics. Now, what’s this about the cook? Your assistant has called us at least three times about her. Really, Lucas, I thought you had the situation handled.”
“She’s missing,” Lucas said through gritted teeth. “She left without telling anyone where she was going.”
