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His brow furrows. “I’m not the CFO.”
“No,” I say, chuckling, “you’re the COO. We are on equal footing, Beau. You don’t need me around all the time. You can handle it. I have faith in you.”
He swallows hard. “It’s just that…Dad doesn’t.”
“Is that what’s really going on? Dad’s shit getting in your head?”
“I don’t know.” Tension falls from his shoulders. “This is a lot, and decades of his business lessons and life lessons and all the rest of it keep popping into my head. I’m pretty sure I’m going to screw something up, because he has no confidence in me—
“Why do you think he named you COO, Beau? For shits and giggles?”
He frowns. “Because then I wouldn’t have my hands on the company’s finances.”
I laugh hard. “Because he fucking trusts you, you nitwit.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so. I realize he’s been hard on all of us, but I think you get more of his ‘Money wins!’ bullshit than any of us—
“He told me to tattoo that backwards on my forehead so I wouldn’t forget it, because I spend money like a drunken sailor with a fistful of Viagra on leave in a brothel.”
That’s our dad, alright.“You like nice things. He’s not wrong.”
“Which is why I need you around to rein me in.”
I chuckle. “So, you admit you have a spending problem?”
Slowly, he half-smirks and nods. “Maybe.”
“I’ll make you a deal. I will warn you ahead of the next time I need time off, and you will learn to rein in your own spending. Like a grown-up.”
“I might have agreed to that, had you not added the jab at the end.”
“Come on, you have to admit Dad is not entirely wrong about his assessment of you.”
He shrugs. “Which is why I need you around.”
“I’m taking the training wheels off, Beau. I’m going to spend more time with my kids.” And not just because Lily is there. “They need me more than you do.”
“Oh fine. Be that way.”
“You mean, be a dad?”
He snorts a laugh. “Maybe.”
“Or do you mean, betheirdad and not yours?”
“Hey!”
“You’re the one saying you need someone to rein you in, not me. I think you’re too comfortable having me here to say no to your impulses. You don’t need me. You need the absence of me. Otherwise, you’ll keep overspending this project into the poorhouse.”
Beau’s mouth opens for a second before it closes again. He frowns, then slumps. “You may be onto something with that.”
“I know—
“I’ve been looking at marble inlays for the spa walls.”
“So?”
