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Chapter 23
Atlas
Atlas swiped the screen of his phone open with one hand and brought the bottle of amber liquid to his mouth with the other. He’d need some liquid courage for this call. The purchase of the inn was not going to happen, and that probably meant the CEO position wasn’t either.
He tapped his contacts. Should he call his grandfather with the news? Go straight to the decision-maker? Or his mother and father?
He checked the time. His grandfather was surely asleep by now. The old man’s schedule was like clockwork. In bed by ten, up at five.
“Mother dearest it is,” he grumbled and clicked her name.
It rang twice before she answered. “Hello? Hold on. Let me put you on speaker phone.”
“Mother.”
“Atlas, Veronica called and said—”
“Why did you send her here? Veronica and I will never happen despite what you and Dad wish. She’s a snake. I’ll never be with someone I can’t trust.”
His mother huffed. “Oh, come on now. What happened years ago has no bearing on who she is now.”
He gritted his teeth. She knew about the affair. The floor creaked outside his door before the one across the hall opened and closed. Jasmine.
“Look, Mother, I called to tell you the deal won’t go through here. We’d be better off finding another spot for the resort farther down the coast.”
“I told you that place was a waste of time. Oliver already tried.” His father’s voice came through.
He bunched his fist at his side. Of course. If their favorite son couldn’t do something, that deemed it impossible.
His mother huffed. “It’s just as well. Oliver already secured an old hotel near the Hamptons that would be perfect. And it only took him two days.”
He cringed.
“Really, Atlas. I don’t know why you’d waste so much of your time over there. It was clear from the beginning it was a dead end,” his mother added.
“I wanted to show you that I deserve the CEO position. I thought it was worth one last effort.” He tried.
“Son, we’ve made a decision,” his father said, sounding hesitant.
No.
“Oliver will run the company as acting CEO, and you will work directly under him.” His father delivered the final blow. The air was sucked from his lungs as he dropped to his knees. Blood rushed to his ears, making them ring.
“Come back home and we’ll talk about the next steps for you at the company. Oliver said he wanted you by his side, and we agree that it’s for the best—oh, I have another call coming through. Talk to you soon,” his mother said before she hung up.
The phone slipped from his hand onto the floor. Defeat weighed his shoulders down. He trembled with anger. “They fucking chose him again.” Why did I ever assume I had a chance?
He’d failed. Just like they’d all said he would. The whole reason he came here was to buy the inn and earn the position. He should pack up and leave. It was all over anyways.
He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took another gulp of the burning liquid. He wasn’t used to this cheap stuff.
Why couldn’t he be good enough? Why did he always have to be second fiddle when it came to his family? His phone buzzed from the floor, Oliver’s name glowing on the screen.
His brother didn’t deserve his anger. He was a good man, a good friend, and a good brother. But I need some space.
He hit ignore.
Warmth flooded his body; it buzzed from alcohol. He wasn’t drunk yet, but relaxed. He stared at the door. If there was one person who he couldn’t bear to think less of him right now, it was Jasmine. He’d thought they had something. Those steel walls of hers had begun to fall. But then Veronica had come and ruined everything. Maybe he had one more shot at happiness before he had to go back to reality.
