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“Yeah, my bad.” I shake my head. “Listen, I know you love her and want to look out for her. But you don’t have to worry. I don’t even know what this even is, if it’s anything.”
“I guarantee it’s something, at least to Sloane. So don’t fuck it up, or I’ll fuck you up.”
I put my hands in the air. “I’ve seen what you can do with a gun, sis. I don’t want to be on your shit list.”
“Good. Then behave yourself.”
“I will. Hey, you know, maybe you should make plans to get dinner or something. Seems like she misses you.” Holy Christ, is this what love does to you? Turns you into a total fruitcake who cares about feelings and shit like that?
“That’s a good idea. We haven’t really spent a lot of time together lately, at least not as much as we used to. We both have so much going on.”
“Well, you shouldn’t forget your friends.” And so it continues. What the hell is happening to me?
Shaye smiles. “You’re right. I’ll text her later and set something up.” She walks over to the coat closet. “Are you going to be able to get me to class on time? It’s getting late.”
“Yeah, I don’t drive ten miles an hour like you. So there isn’t a reason to leave two hours in advance.”
She punches me in the shoulder. “Smartass.”
I snicker. “Hey, is Dad around? I need to talk to him real quick.”
“Yes, he’s in the office.” She turns toward the kitchen. “I’ll make us some coffee to go.”
“Sounds good.”
I wait until she’s out of earshot and knock at the office door. My dad grunts something about coming inside, so I push open the door. Dickhead barely looks up from his computer. I clench my fists. It’s not anything new, so I shouldn’t be shocked by his lack of acknowledgement. But it still pisses me the fuck off.
“Nice to see you, too, Dad.” I close the door behind me and fold my arms. “I missed you at the job site yesterday.”
“Yeah, I was there early and then I had to take off and meet with some people.”
“Really? What people?” I furrow my brow, pretending that he’s not completely full of shit.
He lets out a sigh and glares at me. “Architects, Max. The ones who are drafting plans for the storefronts. Do you want to see my notes from the meeting so you can report back to King Salesi that your project is running smoothly? Do you really think it’s going to make a difference?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Dad narrows his eyes and stands up from his chair. “Nobody is ever going to take you seriously, Maximo. You couldn’t manage this job without me or a shit ton of other help, for that matter. It’s not what you’re good at. It’s what Nico is good at, and that’s why he’s sitting on his gold goddamn throne and you’re sitting in some fucking ergonomic plastic chair in that concrete cell!” He pushes his hair back. “You’re good at maiming people. You flex your muscles, and everyone runs the other way. You’re a thug. It’s all you’ll ever be, no matter how hard you try to be someone different. And Christ, I wish you could be. It’d make life better for all of us,” he grunts.
A sharp pain shoots down my left arm. That motherfucker is not going to give me a panic attack right now. I won’t give him the pleasure of seeing me crumble. More weakness in his eyes. “Are you kidding me? You’re blaming our place in this family on me when you’re the one who tried to sell out the Salesis? You’re lucky you’re not dead right now!”
His eyes darken to a demonic black and if he had a gun, he might actually shoot me dead right here. I wouldn’t put it past him. He fucking hates me, detests everything I’ve done or will do. I honestly think it’s because the Salesis didn’t hold any of his bullshit against me, and I’m moving up while he’s stuck in the same shithole, year after year.
He’s never been loyal to anyone but himself. He’d sell anyone of us for a nickel, and he’d smile while doing it, too. Cocksucker.
“I haven’t heard that anyone’s disappointed with what I’ve been doing. But you…you disappear from that job site every day for hours with your fucking phone glued to your hand. Do you expect me to believe you’re acting in the family’s interest? Or are you just looking to screw someone else over so you can get a crack at their cash flow? Because let’s face it…the only thing you give a shit about is money. Ironic that you don’t ever have a pot to piss in, isn’t it?”
He slams his fists on the desk and throws his chair against the wall, making a dent in the sheet rock.
“Did it feel good to bust up your wall, Dad? Was that supposed to scare me? Why don’t you just fucking tell me why you hate me so much? Why you can barely look at me? Why I’m such a fucking disappointment to you?”
Dad’s breathing is sharp and labored, his chest heaving. His face flushes a deep purple color, and I can see that his fists are clenched tight. Is he gonna throw a punch? Fucking let him. It won’t hurt any more than the other shit he’s pulled on me in the past. “Last night was a fucking joke, Max. Nobody would have ever tried to pull that shit with me if I was running the show!”
“Yeah, but nobody wants to give you that chance. I may not have Nico’s skills, but at least they know they can trust me.” I fish my keys out of my pocket and push open the office door where Shaye is waiting for me with a concerned look on her face and a to-go cup of coffee.
I should have ordered us both an Uber and grabbed the bottle of Bailey’s on my way out of here.
