Page 189 of Boss of the Year
“Winnifred.” Clifford’s voice cut through her tirade, surprisingly clear and firm. “The boy’s right. Enough is enough.”
It was obvious to everyone that the veil had cleared, at least for the next few minutes, and the old man knew exactly what was going on and what he was saying.
She turned to stare at her husband in shock. “Clifford, please. You can’t possibly?—”
“I can and I do. Lucas has made this family richer than any of our ancestors could have imagined. If he wants to put those riches to something better than new cars or houses or whatever else we try to spend this money on, I support him. He hasn’t led us wrong yet.”
Daniel had picked up his glass again and been watching the exchange, though he looked like he would prefer the drink contained vodka along with the soda.
“And you?” Winnifred asked him. “This is your legacy too, Daniel. Aren’t you going to stand up for it at all?”
But Daniel kept his eyes firmly on Lucas. “This is about Marie, isn’t it?”
Winnifred spun around. “Marie? What does that little cook have to do with?—”
“Don’t call her that,” Lucas snapped before he could stop himself.
Before Winnifred could respond, Daniel was talking again, his voice taking on an edge that Lucas had used almost every day in the boardroom but had never heard come out of his brother until now.
“She really got to you, didn’t she?” Daniel said as he put his drink on the coffee table and stood to look Lucas in the eye. “The mouse from the kitchen. I have to admit, I didn’t see it coming. But then again, I never really saw her at all, did I? Not the way you did.”
“Stop.” Lucas opened and closed his fists, willing himself a control that seemed to be ebbing by the second.
“No, no, this is fascinating. My big brother, the man who’s never let anything cloud his judgment a day in his life, throwing away everything for a nice pair of tits and a mouth that could?—”
It took exactly three seconds for Lucas to grab Daniel by the collar, wrench him around the sofa, and slam him into the wall, his forearm shoved against his brother’s throat.
“Lucas!” Winnifred cried. “What are you doing?”
“You will stop talking about her, or you will swallow every goddamn tooth you have.” Lucas’s entire body vibrated with a single urge to destroy anyone who even threatened Marie’s name. “Do. You. Understand?”
Daniel’s eyes widened, but there was no fear there. Instead, something like triumph flared.
“Oh, I understand,” he said. Then to the family: “See? He loves her.”
“What?” Winnifred demanded. “What are you talking about? Loves who?”
“Marie,” Daniel called over Lucas’s shoulder. “The cook.”
Lucas rammed his neck again. “She’s not a cook, you little shit. She’s an artist.”
Daniel just chuckled. “Yeah, you’re a fucking goner, aren’t you?”
Lucas held him there for a moment longer, his heart hammering against his ribs. Finally, he released Daniel, who straightened his collar, brushed back his hair, and returned to his seat on the couch like nothing had happened.
“Over the fucking moon,” he said calmly before winking at Emma, who obliged him with a blush.
“So what if I am?” Lucas kept a hand braced to the wall beside a portrait of Oscar E. Lyons, his great-uncle. The admission felt like bleeding out. “What does it matter anymore?”
Daniel looked genuinely surprised. “Isn’t that why you just announced you’re giving away half a trillion dollars, brother? It’s the only thing that matters at all.”
Winnifred was staring at both of them like they’d both grown second heads. “I don’t understand what’s happening here, but I am not going to let you destroy this family over some?—”
“Mom.” Daniel sliced through her complaints with a single word. “You won’t do anything. So just finish your drink and make an appointment with your therapist, all right? We’ll be fine, just like Lucas said.”
She gaped at him. “Daniel, how dare you?—”
“Because I’m going to be a father soon, and maybe I want to teach my kid a little something better than what I had. So I better learn what it means to work for it if I’ve got a hope in hell of teaching it to him too.” Daniel turned to Lucas, his club soda raised like a toast. “Lucas has spent his entire life taking care of everyone else. Maybe it’s time he took care of himself.”
