Page 243 of The First Taste
"You always were such a little brat. You know, if it were not for me, you wouldn’t even be alive. Your mother wanted to abort you, and I protested her decision. If I hadn’t stuck my neck out for you, you wouldn’t be standing here right now."
I roll my eyes. "Tell me something I haven’t heard you drunkenly rant about five thousand times, Dad. Seriously. I can smell the whiskey coming off you in waves. It’s unpleasant to be around.”
He shoots me a black look and wags his finger at me.
"You know what you are? You’re no fun. And on top of that, you have a bad personality. I have no idea where you got it from. Must be your dead mother."
I bare my teeth at him. "You better walk away now, Dad. Besides, I purposely sat on the other side of the room from the bar cart. I figured that if you showed up, you would be too busy pounding bourbon to bother with me.”
For once, the truth is laid bare between us. It feels electric at first, but the feeling quickly goes stale. My father sniffs and walks away, making a beeline for the bar cart now that I’ve brought his attention to it.
I stand up, and my Uncle Felix crosses the room, frowning as he watches my father pour himself a drink from a crystal decanter.
"That was quite a showdown," Felix says.
I give a tiny shake of my head. "He was asking for it."
"No doubt. That always seems to be his idea of family bonding. He probably thinks he is doing well."
A dark kind of laughter escapes me. I look at Felix, leaning closer so that my voice will not carry. "Any news on the drilling rights?"
Felix just shakes his head and puts a finger to his lips. "Later."
I run my tongue over my teeth, screwing up my face. "Any idea why we are gathered here? Remy didn’t really give me any clues."
Felix shakes his head. "No. But I have a bad taste in my mouth, like I am not going to enjoy whatever Remy has to say."
"Shit, I always feel that way too. And more often than not, I am right."
My uncle laughs and looks away. I am left wondering what Remy’s announcement could be about. Could he be announcing something related to Talia in some way? It seems unlike Remy to react to talking to someone of her low stature for just a few minutes. But I can’t shake the fact that Remy told everyone to gather just after Talia ran out of the house.
Clive enters the living room, looking around and then carefully dropping a bow. "Mr. Morgan is ready. He asked that only the men of the family gather in his study."
Out of the corner, I see Burn comforting Daisy, who looks rather unhappy. He grabs her hand and kisses her knuckles, smiling at her. "Darling, when you’re finally a Morgan, when we have tied the knot, then you can protest all you want."
Her face twitches, and she leans in close, whispering her displeasure into his ear. He nods and kisses her knuckles again. I try not to gag as I exit the living room, following Clive and my Uncle Felix as they make their way to Remy’s study. Remy is sitting behind his giant desk, his brow furrowed as he watches us all filter in.
There are maybe twenty people that enter the space, the room is no bigger than twenty by twenty. My father and uncle drop into the seats before the desk, leaving the rest of us to stand awkwardly. I take up a position near the window where I like to stand. My brother takes his usual position by Remy’s desk, sitting on its corner.
The little fucker, I think.
The view out the window, which affords the best view in the entire house, just below, the ground that the house is situated on falls away, giving a glimpse of the town of Harwicke below. Remy drums his fingers and waves rather impatiently until we are all in the office, then motions for Clive to close the pocket doors. It all seems pretty ominous, and I have that feeling again, that flip-flop in my stomach that indicates some anxiety. What is he going to announce, exactly?
He coughs when he looks at us. "Family…" He gasps and he coughs again, the sound ragged. "Family is all that matters. And not this namby-pamby, neo-liberal bullshit either. I mean, your blood in your veins is identical to mine. I want you to remember what’s most important when I consider who should inherit the company."
Everyone straightens at once, their eyes widening. Whenever Remy says anything remotely like inheritance, you can be damn sure that the sycophants and followers in my family are ready to listen.
Remy clears his throat. "Your grandmother would have wanted to be here to see you get married, Burn and Dare."
I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, trying to puzzle out what he’s saying. My grandmother did want her grandsons to marry well. She told us so many times. But she’s been dead for years now.
“So why is this suddenly so important?”
Remy holds up his hand, stealing my thoughts. "I know that everyone here is interested in controlling interest in our family company. You’re all bloodthirsty bastards, so I don’t have to ask what you are thinking. You’re thinking of yourselves. Which…… You don’t have to explain anything to me. I am as capitalist as they come." He looks around, his eyebrows rising. "I am going to give the reins of the company over to one of my grandsons. Whichever of them marries and has a child first."
"What?” my father asks, sounding horrified. "What about the rest of us?"
Remy jabbed a finger at him, halting his words. "Shut up, Tripp. You cut yourself off when you all but killed your wife with your drinking. You and your brother will both get a token amount of my money and not a penny more."
