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“I’m not afraid of anything, Edmond. I’m just not sure what I can do for Weston. It’s a tall order to help him convince the Board of Aames that he’s worthy of a job he doesn’t want, especially when two of the members are his half-siblings who don’t like him. I’ll remind you I have a lot of business of my own in the works.”

Edmond stared at me for a moment before he smiled. “Bridges, Claude had a reason to ask you to help Weston. He trusted you. I won’t pressure you, so if you don’t want to do for Weston what Claude tried to do for you, I’ll let you off the hook and try to help West myself.”

In that moment, I realized Edmond Aames would have made a fantastic Jewish mother. The guilt trip he was trying to send me on was long distance with no map or off ramp.

It was a request by Claude—a last request—and in my heart, I knew I couldn’t say no to any of them. “Okay, but here’s my condition. West needs to come up with something that can help him rehabilitate his reputation enough to convince the board. I won’t help him decide what to do, but I’ll do everything I can to help him succeed.

“I’m not going to waste my time with some half-hearted bullshit. If West wants my help, he has to do the work. If I understand his father’s last wishes... If he doesn’t succeed in getting the board to approve him to head up the company, it’s not just him who suffers. His mother also suffers, right?”

Edmond sighed. “Yes. There’s also a contingency for May if something goes awry, but I’d rather you not share that with West. I want his head in the game one hundred percent. I’ll relay your condition to him and push him to reach out to you as soon as possible. The clock is ticking, and a year goes by faster than one might expect.”

That was the damn truth.

While I contemplated how I could help West, I decided I needed to take the temperature of the board, so instead of calling my father, I decided to drop in on my parents, unannounced.

My father hated surprises more than anyone I knew, so it would be a good way to catch him off guard. I’d laugh a little as he opened the door.

I locked up the shop at six and took a cab to the Upper West Side where my parents lived in a luxurious apartment that overlooked Central and Morningside Parks. The view was beautiful, but their affluent neighbors weren’t my kind of people.

My bike shop wasn’t far from the Barclay’s Center in Brooklyn. My apartment was two floors over the shop, and because I lived in the building where I worked, I tended to work long hours. Boring, yes, but it kept me out of trouble.

I took the subway from the Barclay’s Center stop to 86th Street and walked the ten blocks up Central Park West to my parents’ building. It was a beautiful spring evening, and with the blooming trees in the park, I enjoyed the walk.

The doorman at The Primrose Building was new and quizzed me longer than necessary about who I was there to see. I had to show him my driver’s license and a photo of me with my parents at my dad’s birthday party the previous fall before he’d let me up. I hadn’t been to The Primrose since the doorman had been hired, so I didn’t give him a hard time.

Once the elevator opened on their floor, I stepped off and went to my parents’ door, ringing the bell before I used my key. A little warning might spare me some of my father’s wrath, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

Mom came out of the kitchen, a happy smile greeting me. “Bridges, son, I’m so happy to see you. Why didn’t you let me know you were coming? Dad and I are just getting ready for cocktails. I made a cheeseboard. Will you please join us?”

I kissed Mom on both cheeks and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’d love to have a drink with the two of you. How’s my favorite girl?”

Mom laughed. “I’m great, son. How was Abu Dhabi? The Crown Prince’s son liked the bike, I guess? What race is he training for?”

“Great Ocean Road Race in Victoria, Australia. It’s a hundred-eight kilometers. He’s been doing shorter races to build his standings to qualify for the UAE team next year. His father tried to talk me into staying to coach him, but I can’t be away from you for a year.”

Mom hugged me as we headed toward my father’s study. “Go on in. I’ll get the charcuterie and join you. Is your father going to be cross? Is there something you’re here to discuss? Oh! Are you seeing anyone?”

God love her, Mom had been supportive as I was growing up, I was sure she’d even suspected I might be gay when I was younger, but she let me decide when I was ready to tell them.

My father took it horribly when I came out and threatened to throw me out if I didn’t tell him it was a joke. Of course, I’d been dumb enough and chosen Thanksgiving dinner to out myself. My sister still laughed about it.

“No... Well, I don’t think so. I was at the reading of Claude’s will the other day. It wasn’t exactly great.”

Mom nodded and headed to the kitchen. I walked into the study to see Dad sitting behind his desk with his glasses low on his nose as he reviewed a file in front of him.

“Hey, Dad. Mom’s getting the charcuterie platter. She’ll be in soon.”

Dad stood and walked around the desk, extending his hand in his ever-formal way. “Good to see you, Bridges. How was the UAE?”

“It was good. The prince loves the bike. The Crown Prince didn’t flinch at the price, so that was good.”

“What can I get you to drink? Were you in the office on Monday? I thought you didn’t return to New York until today.”

I gave Dad a smile. “Bourbon rocks, please, Dad. Edmond called me, so I came back early. The will was read on Monday.”

Dad nodded as he put one large cube each into two rocks glasses and covered them with two fingers of Buffalo Trace, handing one to me and keeping one for himself. He stepped over to the sitting area and sat in a burgundy leather Queen Ann side chair. I took a seat on the matching leather sofa, waiting for the inquisition to begin.

My father took a breath and stared at me. “I have a meeting with Edmond tomorrow morning, and we’ve scheduled a memorial cocktail hour for the staff at four, tomorrow afternoon. Please tell me Claude didn’t name CJ as the chairman of Aames. I assume he was smart enough not to name me?”