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"That is not what’s happening. I assure you that it isn’t love I feel when I see Daisy. All I feel is resentment. I want to rub her nose in the fact that my brother is a cheater."
Talia crosses her arms, looking at me with a careful expression. "You shouldn’t tell her anything. Honestly. It will not matter to Daisy, not like you think it will. And then you will still be left holding the bag when it comes to things between you and Burn. You two are brothers, not enemies."
I laugh half-heartedly. "That’s where you’re wrong. Daisy left me for my brother because we look the same. She said that she was getting an upgrade. And Burn encouraged her. So I am going to rub her face that she chose an unfaithful man. I can’t wait to sit back and enjoy the look on her face when I tell her."
Her mouth opens in protest, but I put a finger to her lips, giving her a warning look. "Mind your own business. You’re only here as a bit-part actress. You should keep your opinions to yourself. You’re here because you have been paid to tell your story. Nothing more. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Her eyes flash furiously at me. Her mouth thins. But she does not say a word. She just continues to look at me as though I am disappointing her somehow.
As if I could ever be a disappointment to someone like her, someone who was born into poverty and is only here because of my money. I turn, straightening the cuffs of my shirt and looking around the room. She follows my gaze, seemingly unsure about everything.
"So, what now?"
I purse my lips and shrug. "I don’t know. We were waiting for a sighting of Remy, eventually. It should be sometime within the next hour or two. Until then…” I cast a glance around the room. “Everyone in here is trying to size up Burn and me. It’s a little tiring."
"Size you up for what?" Talia asked.
I flick my fingers out in a gesture that says it does not really matter. "Remy is insisting on a race between my brother and me to own the majority share of the business. Essentially, my grandfather says that the first one of us that is a married man with a grandchild to present to him will then gain control of the company and billions of dollars." I straighten my tie and roll my eyes. "It's unfair, but when was anything Remy decided to be fair?"
"That’s insane. He knows that’s insane, right?" She looks at me, her brow furrowed.
Giving her a sideways glance, I smirk. "You know, if I didn’t dislike your personality so much, you would have made a nice wife for me. Really drive the nail head home and stick it to Burn. In fact, when you were telling me the story of the night that you got drunk after Raven’s Head and thought I was my brother, I was thinking how funny it was. I almost went to the Raven’s Head Club that night with Burn. But we bickered, and I decided not to go. So we almost crossed paths, except that fate didn’t see fit.”
Talia glares at me. "The reason that it wouldn’t have taken place the way that you picture it is because your brother actually charmed me. I can’t imagine you seducing anyone into anything."
"Can’t you, though?" I give her a wicked grin.
She huffs a little. "I really hate you."
"And I hate you. But what is a little hatred among two attractive people? We can just fuck, enjoy each other’s bodies, and then part satiated. No muss, no fuss, no feelings."
Her lips part.
But at that very moment, Remy chooses to make his appearance. He strolls into the room, his gold-tipped cane in one hand, and Clive hovering nervously near him the whole time. Remy runs a hand over his bald head and flicks a dismissive hand at Clive. "All right, I’m all right. I’m in the living room now. Happy?"
"Remy!" Daisy calls out. "It’s so nice to see you."
Remy screws up his face and gestures to Clive, who whispers in Remy’s ear. Remy then looks at Daisy and says, "It’s Mr. Morgan to you. You’re not family yet."
Daisy gulps and clutches at Burn, who is quick to give her his hand. My father stumbles away from the bar cart, drunkenly jubilant.
He raises his tumbler of whiskey to Remy. "It’s good to see you, Dad. Here I was, waiting all night for you to show up. Story of my life, am I right?"
My dad laughs and looks around, perhaps expecting someone to chime in. But no one does. Everyone here is supported by Remy, in some fashion. It’s better not to bite the hand that feeds you, and every single person in this room knows it.
My Uncle Felix shoves his hand through his hair and moves forward, grabbing my father and holding him up. "Tripp, why don’t we get some fresh air?"
"Yes, Tripp. Why don’t you get some fresh air?”
Remy hobbles away from his two sons, out into the middle of the room. He beckons to Clive, and Clive hands him a glass of red wine, giving Remy a fearful look as he hands it over. Remy grips the stem and lifts the wine high in the air. As Felix helps my drunken father out of the room, Remy starts telling a story about my grandmother.
"She was wonderful. She will always be present. And she has visited me several times in my dreams. That’s how I came up with the challenge to pit my two grandsons together. The inheritance race was her idea."
At the door, my dad freezes. Felix tugs on his arm, but he turns around and blows a raspberry. "Your story sucks, Remy!"
Remy scowls at my father. "And what would you know about it, Tripp?"
"I know that it’s not real. I know the difference between reality and fantasy. That’s one thing that’s different between me and you."
