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“Merry Christmas, and you’re welcome. You’re up early.” Dad checks behind him. “Is Byron awake?”
“No, sir, not yet.”
“Have you spoken to your parents?” Dad asks.
“Yes, I just finished FaceTiming before they went to bed. Christmas is done and dusted, and Mum is tipsy and wanted to say goodnight. She misses me. It’s the fourth Christmas I haven’t returned home, but with a serious training regime leading up to finals, I can’t afford the lethargy that comes with jetlag.”
“Perhaps next year your family could have Christmas here,” I offer.
A smile spreads across Brandon’s face. “I would like that because I hope to go pro after college, and games are played on Christmas Day. They would get to see me play.”
Dad shoots me a serious expression. “Your mother will not be happy about this.”
“Not Christmas Eve,” Brandon adds. “Players get that time with their families.”
Dad’s expression is one where he seems to absorb his words. “There is much for me to learn about this game.”
Brandon grins. “Congratulations on your new sports executive position as controlling owner of the Sharks.”
“Thank you, Brandon. I officially take over at the end of the season, and it won’t be announced until then so the news doesn’t distract the players or have the staff worrying about future roles.”
“Yeah, Byron said it’s on the hush.” He pours himself an orange juice. “May I sit with you?”
Dad points to a chair opposite me. “Take a seat. Also, I want you to know there is no guarantee I will recruit my son.” Brandon’s eyes widen. “He’ll need to prove himself to the coaches and be a good fit for the team. Acquiring this team is a business decision and will be treated as that with no favors given.”
Bullshit. My father is doing this for his son.
“Merry Christmas, my darlings.” My mother waltzes into the room, and the air shifts immediately. She is the happiest woman I know, and her smile could power the city at night. She is classy as ever, wearing a navy and white elegant dress.
Then I notice what’s in her arms.
Green sweaters.
“I got you the same size as Byron.” Mom beams her smile at Brandon.
Brandon springs from his chair. “This is cool, ma’am. Our family has never worn matching Christmas sweaters or pajamas, especially since it’s usually hot.”
“Extremely hot from what I’ve heard.” She hands him his sweater. “Where are the others?” Mom asks.
“Sophia.” Dad arches his brow. “It’s only six thirty. I’m surprised you’re awake after the late night.”
But when my mother is awake, everyone is awake.
My cell buzzes with an incoming call. I retrieve it from my trousers pocket. It’s David, who manages my nightclub, and I wasn’t expecting a call from him.
Mom pouts at me. “Please, not on Christmas Day, Franklin.”
I give her an apologetic look. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
“Sophia, if someone is calling on Christmas Day, it’s important,” Dad emphasizes.
Before I answer, I catch Mom shaking her head at my father. She has made it clear she doesn’t want me to turn out like him.
I stand to leave the room. “Merry Christmas, David.”
“Merry Christmas, Franklin. Sorry to call, but you should know what’s happening at the club.”
I leave the dining room and step inside the sitting room, closing the door behind me. “Do I want to know?” I bought Dricks nightclub as an investment, and it has grown in popularity after some smart marketing. Now, we struggle to accommodate the hundreds of patrons who line up to get in almost every night when it is already at capacity. We hired one of the best DJs in the city, and after renovating the building so the circular upper floors have a bird’s-eye view of a central dance floor and large screens that flash from the stage to the dance floor, you are not disadvantaged no matter what level you are on. It’s proved to be one of my best personal investments.
