Page 67 of On One Condition

Focus, Ledge.

Ha. That’s funny.

“You’re knocking down fires all over the place today,” Callahan says in greeting when he answers the phone. “We should have you vacate the office more often. Your productivity level seems to go up.”

“Fuck off.”

His chuckle rumbles through the line. “Nah. It’s too much fun giving you shit.”

“Tell Sutton she needs to keep you on a tighter leash,” I say, referencing his wife.

“Oh, I don’t know. I like how tight she grips me.”

“Yeah. Yeah. When are you two leaving to take on Japan?” I ask in reference to the property we’re buying from Takashi. Callahan and his wife will head there and manage the transition of the resort.

“After we close escrow.”

“Yes. Sorry. Every day here feels like ten.”

“That bad, huh?” He chuckles. “At least you’ll get to escape back to the city next month for the gala.”

“Shit. Yes. That,” I say, my mind completely blanking on the charity gala we’re sponsoring for the Alzheimer’s Association, something we’ve done every year since Dad’s diagnosis. “I’ve been preoccupied with this bullshit.”

“You forgot something? How unlike you. And here I thought you were counting down the days until your return to civilization.”

“Like I said, I’ve been busy.” I pull on the back of my neck, confused over my sudden desire to make up an excuse as to why I can’t go back. Seriously, Ledge?

“Or preoccupied. Everything okay?”

“Yes. Yeah. Sure.”

He laughs again. “What’s up with the three-word answers? That’s your tell.”

“My tell?”

“Yeah, when you’re lying about something.” He pauses. “So, what exactly are you keeping from me?”

I shake my head and practically flip the phone off. This is the problem with having brothers who are as close as we are. They know too much about you even when you don’t say a word.

“I’m not keeping shit from you. I’m just trying to get this whole shitshow here sorted out and fixed. You know how much menial crap like this drives me crazy,” I deflect.

“It’s a necessary evil though.”

“I mean, we’ve always had to grease palms in one way or another for a new project, whether it be in discounted room rates for an inspector or whatever, but this ask is flat-out ridiculous.”

“Bribery. Extortion. Blackmail.” He makes a noncommittal sound. “Sounds about right. The question we should be asking though is do you think it will work?”

“Only time will fucking tell, but I swear to God, if we do all this shit and Grossman moves the bar again for us to jump over, I’ll be fucking pissed.”

Set the goal. Meet the goal. Adjust the goalposts.

If it were Dad in Grossman’s shoes, he’d definitely move the bar.

“Agreed. That’s why you need to move as fast as possible and get shit finished before new ideas can materialize. We need Harrison to double-check the contract to ensure there is nothing else they can legally pull on us.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Now you know how it feels.”