Page 3 of Cocky Prince
I have standards, and I like the lifestyle the family money affords. So I play our father’s game, and I live in luxury, while my four brothers flounder in a world of their own making.
I’m envious as hell of them.
After rapping twice on the rustic mahogany double door, I wait for my father’s voice. His deep baritone calls out for me to enter, and I do, with all the Cade assurance born to me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned as Ethan Cade’s son, it’s never to appear weak, never to doubt myself.
I stride into the room and take a seat across from the patriarch, who studies me raptly, searching for a crack in the exterior. He won’t find it. He trained me well.
“Adam, what brings you in today?” He tosses a fountain pen on the desk. His gaze appears distracted. “I’m assuming all goes well at Blue Casino?”
“Better than well.” I try to hold back my satisfaction. What I have to say won’t impress him. I’m not sure why I drove here to share it when a phone call would have sufficed. The fact that I did proves I still desire to please him, which will likely result in the opposite effect. But I wanted to see his expression. To see if, for once, I’ve done something that makes him proud, even if it is never verbalized.
I tug at my slacks and cross my ankle over my knee, attempting to keep things cool. “I’ve been promoted to manager at Blue. Effective immediately.”
My father’s stony expression doesn’t crack. When he fails to respond, I uncross my legs—and wish I hadn’t. Wish I’d stayed the fuck still.
“This is a surprise.”
I feign nonchalance. “Not really. I graduated at the top of my class from Cornell, if you recall.” Which he probably doesnot. “The CEO has been generous from the start.” A fact even Hayden noticed, and one that seemed to bother her. She’s not the petty sort. I’m not sure what that was about. “I was overqualified for the position youencouragedme to take,” I remind him. “The promotion is a no-brainer.”
My father drops his gaze. He lets out a heavy sigh and spins his full-grain leather chair to the window and the infinity pool beyond, where pine trees dot the landscape for a natural appearance. The deep blue of the lake and its sandy shore lie just past the pool. “You’ve always been loyal. I never realized how that might have held you back.”
For a moment, I’m struck mute.
My father doesn’t back down, let alone admit wrongdoing. His entire world revolves around Club Tahoe. I would have bet my life he wanted my world to revolve around it too. In fact, he stated as much when he insisted I work at Blue Casino to broaden my experience before returning to Club Tahoe full-time.
Is this some sort of trick? Is he testing my loyalty? “I’ve enjoyed the work I’ve done at the club.”
He doesn’t look away from the view. “Yes. Your brothers never did.”
Was that longing in his voice?What the hell?
It’s not like my father hates my brothers, but he hasn’t spoken to some of them in years. They never did what he wanted, and their presence tended to make his blood pressure rise and his face turn a mottled burnt red.
I strain my neck and look around, expecting someone to jump out and yell, “Gotcha.”
When I turn back, my father’s eyes are forlorn. I have the strangest urge to soothe him, which has never happened in my entire life. Ethan Cade isn’t soft. He doesn’t need comfort. He’s a damn self-possessed man. What’s gotten into him?
“My brothers took umbrage at your shoving the company down their throats,” I remind him.
There. That’s more like our typical conversations.
He looks me dead in the face. “That was my mistake. I should never have pushed so hard. Should have given you and your brothers more freedom to pursue other careers.”
Holy shit.Who is this man? To hear my father even suggest he’d be open to us working anywhere other than Club Tahoe sounds foreign. And why is he saying it now? “Dad: Levi, Wes, Bran, and even Hunt—they’ve made lives for themselves, regardless of the past. You don’t need to…to worry.”
He nods tightly. “You think they’ll visit?”
I chuckle without humor. “Since when did you want us to visit? Work here, sure, but—”
He looks at the family photo of the six of us taken a year after my mother’s death. In the picture, my father is standing behind us near the front gates of Club Tahoe. My brothers and I are wearing identical blue polo shirts and slacks we weren’t permitted to so much as touch with our fingers, let alone get dirty. What’s not revealed in the picture is that my brothers and I waited for over an hour for our father to show up. He’d been too busy with work to make the shoot on time. Which left four boys and an eighteen-month-old restless and confused.
“I’ve not been there for you,” he says, shocking me further. “I shouldn’t have put Club Tahoe first. I plan to change that.”
Something is wrong here, or this is a setup. He’s lost his damn mind. I’m twenty-seven; my brothers range in age from twenty-two to twenty-nine. We’re adults. Even if this weren’t a joke, it’s a little late. “Look, Dad. I don’t know where this is coming from or what you have planned, but don’t push the others. They’re happy.”
I nearly wince at the intensity behind the gaze my father sends me. “Are they?”
“Happy?” I ask, just to be sure I’m following. Because this entire conversation is surreal.
