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"Decided she’d rather carve out her career on her own. She wanted experience working in a place where she wasn’t related to the boss."
"Sounds reasonable," I say slowly.
"Tell that to my father. He was seriously pissed about it. The two of them got into a huge row. It’s the only time in my life I’ve seen my father actively get upset with either one of us. Clearly, he cared more about her leaving than my becoming an artist. She left in a huff, and as far as I know, she’s never seen him since."
"When did this happen?"
"About three years ago, when she turned twenty-one. And yes, he did cut her out of his will, too."
Isaac pulls me into his arms. I cuddle in. Being with him has always been nice, comfortable. Like being with a brother.
Eh? Why did I go thinking that?
I mean, the sex with him isn’t bad. He’s a considerate lover. Maybe too considerate. I think I’d prefer someone more dominant. Someone who’d surprise me, and throw me on my back and fuck me until I can’t think straight. With Isaac, it’s always been… Not bad. Which is the same as it being good, right? What we have is good. It is.
I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer. "I feel sorry for your father. All alone in this big pile of stone. He has all of the luxuries in the world, but no one to share them with."
"You don’t need to feel sorry for him. He’s always been a hit with the ladies. After our mother left there was a never-ending stream of women he dated." He uses air quotes after that last word.
I lean back in his arms. “So, he brought these women home?"
"No, he made sure to keep his private life separate, but the newspapers always carried pictures of him with whoever his latest squeeze was."
A hot sensation tightens my chest, and I push it away. "At least he was thoughtful that way. He made sure not to expose the two of you to any more emotional turmoil," I offer.
"No, just having him for a father was enough," he scoffs.
"Maybe, now that you’re living back home you could try to make amends with him?"
He stares at me, then bursts out laughing. "You’re so cute. You don’t get it, do you? My father doesn’t need anyone. He’s fine the way he is. All he needs is his business, and now, apparently, these friends he’s gathered along the way. He’ll probably make sure to write his will and gift all his wealth to bring down the national debt or something like that."
"You’re kidding, right?"
"Nope." He pushes me onto my back and covers my body with his. "Absolutely not." He bends and brushes his lips across the base of my throat. "He’s never going to forgive me or my sister Tally for not wanting to join his business." He fits himself firmly between my legs, and the column in his pants nudges my center.
"You need to unpack," I murmur.
"It can wait." He presses kisses up the side of my throat. I stare up at the ceiling. He brushes his lips over mine, and I turn my head.
"Stop, Isaac. I’m really tired."
"I know exactly how to relax you." He reaches for the neckline of my top and I grab his hand.
"Don’t, please."
"What’s wrong?" He glances between my eyes. "You’re never in the mood lately."
"Probably because I’ve been too busy trying to pay our bills and keep us afloat."
"I never asked for you to take over that responsibility."
"We did share a flat together, so it was in my interest to keep our rent paid so we didn’t get evicted."
"Clearly, you didn’t succeed, because here we are," he retorts.
I stare at him, then shove at his shoulder. "Get off of me."
"Aww, come on, doll, you know I’m joking."
