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CHAPTER4
Hot Date~Carter
I hungup the phone and leaned back in my chair as I took a deep breath. It had been a hellish month at Castle Realty. We were booked out past the end of the year, yet my father, Christian Castle, kept taking on more clients. You can never be too busy, son, he always said. But, of course, these words usually came over the phone while he was sitting in a golf cart with a cocktail in hand. If you're going to inherit my company, you need to prove you can handle being an entrepreneur.
I looked around the room. I had a corner office at the top of the tallest building in Stonebridge. I leaned further back in my chair and twirled until my gaze locked on the Stonebridge skyline. I was apparently living the dream to the outside world, but I often found myself questioning my reasons for even wanting to inherit this. My grandfather and father worked hard to get the Castle name off the ground. Hard work and number crunching were in their blood, but it left their souls hollow and their hearts empty, with only the occasional cleaning staff and one night stand to occupy the halls of their homes and lives. I guess I couldn't complain much. My pay was great, and my employees were the best in the business, but the fact that I was the only heir to the "kingdom" made me the next in line by default, not by choice, and I hated not having choices, especially ones that dictated my career.
"Carter." His thunderous voice boomed into my office unexpectedly. Speak of the devil himself. "What are you still doing here, son?"
"Running your company," I said dryly. "Turns out it's a full-time gig."
His jaw tightened at my response, and I let my lips curl into a shit-eating grin. Nonchalantly pissing him off was something me and my younger brother prided ourselves in. We enjoyed letting our tongues lash out at his remarks. Unfortunately, my brother Finn took his hatred toward my father too far, and he sent him away. If my father had to hold on to anything with his last breath, it would always be his name, and it would have to be a cold day in hell before he let someone drag it through the mud. Family or not.
"Tell me you didn't forget about your date tonight," he said as he took a seat in one of the chairs sitting in front of my desk. His woodsy scent slammed into me like a riptide. The man practically bathed in it. I swallowed back a gag and raised a hand to my cheek.
"How could I forget?" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You've been hooking me up on these 'dates' for months now."
His smile faded. "Carter, you are turning forty-four—"
"Forty actually, but go on." I drummed my finger on the desk.
He adjusted the lapels of his sports jacket. "You're single. Ever since Claire left you at the alter—"
"For your brother," I stated, cutting him off abruptly.
"You haven't even attempted to find a wife, and you know I want a grandchild before I die."
I stood up and slammed my laptop shut. "You mean, grandson. You want to die knowing you have a grandson to inherit Castle Realty."
I rounded the desk and walked toward the closet nestled in the corner of my office. I didn't have time to go home and change before the "date," but I figured I could at least change my shirt.
"Is it so bad that I want the legacy I built with my own sweat and blood to remain just that? A legacy?" He joined me in my closet and perched his ass on the corner of the large dresser. “You might actually like this girl. I chose a new agency for you. Word has it that these ladies love to please.”
I tugged my shirt off, mumbling under my breath, hoping he didn't hear me. The last thing I needed was another lecture. I slipped into a black dress shirt, buttoning it before rolling the sleeves up a little.
"Is that what you're wearing?" He lifted a brow and folded his arms across his chest.
I ignored his jab at my attire and latched my watch around my wrist.
"All right, well, I'd wear a tie, but who am I to tell you what to do? Just try to act pleasant, will you? And don't talk about work too much. Women like it when you focus on them."
"Right," I said more or less through my teeth.
"I'm just trying to help, Carter."
"Yeah, well, I figure if I am paying for their time—"
He cut me off. "And pleasure…"
I resisted the urge to punch him. "I can talk about anything I damn well please."
"Sure, son. Whatever you have to do to give me a grandson."
With that, he walked out, and I glanced at my watch. The car was already parked in front when I made my way out of the building. I climbed into the back and gave my driver the address. The conversation with my father replayed in my head. My comment about paying for my date's time may have been over the top. But that's literally what it was. After so many failed dates, he lost faith in my ability to get a woman in my bed on my own terms and signed me up for an escort service. Most women were begging to take me to bed at the end of a date, and why wouldn't they? With strong builds, dark hair, olive skin, and a last name worth its weight in gold, we Castle men were like catnip to women who knew our name. But that also made dating unbearable most of the time. It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. I wanted to be with someone who wanted me for me. Not my name or money. Ironically my father wanted a grandson and didn't give a flying fuck about my feelings or the broken heart slowly dying in my chest.
According to my father,escorts were only escorting because of the easy money. He believed anyone dire enough to spread their legs for a few thousand dollars would be easily persuaded to give me a child for the right price. The whole thing was absurd. Disgusting really. But after forty years of having this man breathe down my neck, I was willing to do just about anything to get him to lay the fuck off.
I drifted my eyes back to the window as my car rode along at sloth speed. Traffic was a nightmare, and I looked down at my watch. "What's taking so long?" I barked out at my driver.
