Jack’s mother had hated smoke of any kind and it was forbidden inside the house. Even her own father and his pipe had never been allowed within ten feet of her when they were outside. Many a time Kent and Grandpa had gone out post-dinner under the pretence of taking a long walk, when all along they were going for a smoke.
‘Care to join me?’ Kent puffed a cloud of smoke into the air.
Jack perched on the arm of the Chesterfield at the opposite end. ‘After dinner, perhaps.’ He’d join the ritual to appease his father. This business was what defined this family now. It was their past and their future and whether that was a good thing or not, it was the way it was.
‘Good. A nice way to finish a meal and I can assure you we won’t be alone. And Fern will keep her distance.’ Kent wiggled his fingertips in the air and pouted, just like Fern did.
Jack couldn’t help but laugh. ‘She certainly will. Maybe I’ll smoke the entire box.’
‘Not if I get there first.’ Kent took another puff on the cigar. ‘Did you talk to Braydon about the diamond marketing campaign?’
‘Not yet.’ He noticed his father’s gaze and sighed. ‘Yes, I know. He’s good for business. I’ll talk to him early next week. We have a meeting, and I’m sure we can get the campaign off to a flying start.’
‘Your mother’s designs are in the new collection.’
‘Good, it’s nice we’re still doing them. They were always a crowd pleaser.’ His mother had been just as popular with customers as her designs were and Jack was glad they still sold well.
‘Did you send the figures to the accountant?’ Kent poured himself a whiskey and proffered the bottle to Jack.
Jack shook his head at the offer. ‘Not yet.’
‘Jack, you’ve got to stay on top of things. What’s wrong with you lately? Every time I ask whether you’ve done something to do with the business it’s always “not yet”, “haven’t gotten around to it” or “I’ll do it later”.’
‘I’m busy, that’s all, Dad.’
‘We’re all busy, but I want to buy the new premises within the next twelve months if I can. It will catapult our business to the next level, having another store for customers to walk into.’
Another store would catapult them somewhere, although Jack wasn’t sure where exactly. He wished he had the passion and the drive his father assumed the gene pool had passed on, but he couldn’t seem to pull himself out of the lacklustre mood he’d settled into the last couple of years.
‘Have you found anywhere suitable yet?’ he asked.
Kent shook his head. ‘There’s a shortage of decent retail spaces. But I’ve got my eye on a few things, don’t you worry.’
Their conversation was cut short and Jack was given a reprieve when the first guests drifted in. This year’s guests included a client who’d bought a large consignment of jewellery to sell at retail outlets internationally, as well as neighbours who either owned successful businesses or worked at the top of their game in industries including finance and fashion.
The scene was set—the grand table laid, the fire roaring in the grate and Maggie toing and froing from the kitchen to keep everyone lubricated and satisfied with canapés. The dinner itself was bearable. Jack got lucky this time and sat between Malcolm, a bigwig in the banking world and his wife, Cara, lover of fine jewellery judging by how much was weighing her down tonight—an enormous diamond pendant swinging from a platinum chain, a ring with a rock the size of the Statue of Liberty. Cara was outwardly confident and friendly, and unlike some of the women, she could hold a conversation without one bat of an eyelid or one stroke of his leg beneath the table.
The cigars were passed around at the end and Jack obliged, removed the cellophane wrapper and lit it the second Fern came anywhere near him. At least he could laugh about it. He had to do something to amuse himself at these stuffy events. His father had put on a big party for Fourth of July and Jack had managed to amuse himself by drinking copious amounts of wine, both red and white, and having a competition with Paul Hook, a customer who’d swung an invite after he’d bought his fiancée an engagement ring at The Diamond Touch, a brooch for his mom’s fiftieth and personalised cufflinks for his brother’s graduation, all in one day. Kent hadn’t realised quite how much of a party animal Paul was, and he and Jack had ended up playing drinking games that only ended when Paul introduced a game of dizzy astronauts to the mix and cut his head open by bashing into the sideboard.
Jack couldn’t help the laugh escape as he remembered.
‘You’re a happy boy tonight.’ Fern had crept up behind him without him realising.
He took a drag from his cigar and blew it in her general direction. If she didn’t leave soon, he’d have no choice but to blow it in her face.
‘Just enjoying the party and the company,’ he told her.
Fern lowered her voice. ‘It’s a nice night to be out on the patio.’
She was nothing if not forward. ‘Bit cold, isn’t it?’ He saw Braydon weaving his way over to them and this time he was glad of the man’s company.
‘Great cigars, Jack.’ Braydon looped an arm across Fern’s shoulders and immediately she began nuzzling his neck in a sickly fashion that made Jack want to get the hell out of there. And he would if he wasn’t so damned polite to his father’s guests. Instead, he stood and listened to Braydon harping on about brands of cigars, lots of crap Jack didn’t give a shit about.
‘Gurkha His Majesty’s Reserve has to be the world’s most expensive cigar.’ Unattractively, Braydon showed his prowess and puffed gloomy smoke rings into the air. ‘It’s the Rolls-Royce of the cigar world.’
‘Is that right?’ Jack’s voice dripped with disdain, but Braydon didn’t pick up on it.
‘They start with a rare Dominican wrapper,’ he went on as though Jack was remotely interested, ‘which covers a secret blend of filler tobaccos from all over the world.’
