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“I didn’t know who she was. She came to Luc’s party, and I got carried away. I was drinking too much because of the damn stress over Park Avenue. I also had a fucking run-in with Bastian, and it pissed me off.”
That would piss anyone off.
But wait…there has to be more significance to the story. The papers wouldn’t care about any old preacher man. He’d have to be someone big.
I scan the first line of the article, and my shoulders drop.
Yeah, I was right.
The preacher man in question is Paul Linco, one of the biggest gospel ministers in New York. He’s obviously a little more than a preacher man, but I get that the title had a cool ring to it for a headline.
Thewifeis his third wife. She’s a twenty-five-year-old ex-pro football cheerleader who is fifty years his junior, and it looks like she thought my brother was a good pick for the night.
But this is bad on the scale of fucked to hell. Paul Linco is one of our leading clients. Our father’s client.
“What does this mean?” I ask the question because he’d only be here if the shit had already hit the fan and scattered around the room.
“It’s all over the fucking press. Grandfather obviously saw it and called me to chew my ass out. Paul Linco pulled all his contracts from us.”
“Oh, fuck. Are you serious?” Why the hell do I bother asking?
“Yes.” He slumps into the chair in front of me and places his head on the desk.
“There has to be a way around this.”
“No. Grandfather already talked to him. He wants nothing to do with us. He’s also going to tell his little friends to jump ship as well. Of course, Father is pissed as fuck and wants me gone.” Wearily, he lifts his head and stares back at me through bloodshot eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
I can’t believe all of this happened today and I’m only just finding out. Seems like I really do have my head elsewhere.
I’m also not sure what the hell I’m going to do to help him.
“Did you sleep with her?” If he didn’t, I might be able to reason with Paul.
“Of course I did.”
“Jericho.” I shake my head at him. “Why the fuck did you have to do this? You know we’re under serious scrutiny.”
“I know. I know I fucked up, and at the worst time, too.” He closes his eyes and releases a haggard breath. “I didn’t know the press was tracking us, but I know that’s no excuse. Last night, I just needed a fucking break, and I slipped up.”
I can see the recent situation has taken its toll on him. Truthfully, I’m stressed out as well, but the problem here is Jericho is Jericho.
This shit is not unusual for him. Ordinarily, he’d brush it off. We all would.
But this time, it’s impossible to overlook his actions because he’s just lost us a major, longtime client. One with influence in the wider society that will indeed cause a domino effect. It already has.
I’m pissed at that and the fucked-up timing. This is the last thing either of us needs. It’s juvenile and reckless and makes us both look bad.
But … I still have to help him. Right now, I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll
figure out something. Jericho would help me even if I’d just robbed a bank and swore I didn’t, but the cash was falling out of my ass.
“Let me speak to Grandfather.” I rest my hands on the table and think about when it will be appropriate. The fundraiser isn’t the right place or time. “Maybe I can come up with something.”
“I’m not sure you can. I’m not really here for help. I just thought I’d come by and tell you what’s going on. I also think it’s best I give the fundraiser a miss. I don’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention.” He facepalms himself and keeps his hand at his forehead. “Damn it, Knight. This is going to come back and bite me. I just know it will. I’m aware Grandfather is taking his own sweet time in speaking to me about the company because of shit like this. Normally, I don’t give a fuck because I’m so good at what I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m not replaceable. Or that Bastian can’t do my job.”
Although I don’t want to think like that, he’s right. No one, no matter who you are or how good you are at what you do, is irreplaceable.No one.
My phone rings. It’s Claude’s ringtone. He never calls me unless there’s something going on at the house.
