“Don’t make me do this.” Alex pulled out his phone and typed.
“Do what?”
“Invoke the cousin group chat.”
Fuck. That was at least a dozen people between his mom’s side, his dad’s side, and several second cousins, all living in and around Tucson. Best-case scenario, his phone would blow up with messages. Worst-case, they’d all crash the work party and make his night a living hell.
“Fine.” He slammed down a heavy beer mug and glared at Alex. “I’ll be there. Six?”
“Yeah, six will work. See you then, Ryan.”
His mother finally strode in, the tapping of her heels on the terracotta tile silenced by the colorful rug. She made herself comfortable on the couch next to Alex and shared a look with her husband. All eyes turned to Ryan.
“We are concerned about your future, sweetheart.” His mother’s expression was appropriately grave.
Oh, shit. His mother only called him “sweetheart” when she wanted something from him. Or when he was in serious trouble. Or when they told him his Nonna was dying. The warmth fled his body, leaving his hands cold.
“You graduated over five years ago and are still working as a bartender,” his father said. “I know it must be difficult to find a job with a degree in global studies, but have you even considered doing something with it?”
Alessandro DeMarco couldn’t keep the scorn out of his voice when mentioning Ryan’s one shining moment. He had earned his BA in global studies, with honors, thank you very much, but for his father, he may as well had never gone to college. If it wasn’t related to the family business, or an obvious career path like pre-med or pre-law, it didn’t count. There were plenty of jobs with non-profits and government agencies for someone with his credentials, but he had other ideas.
“No, Dad, I’m just going to blow my trust fund and be a bartender for the rest of my life.”
His words had their desired effect. With his father’s reddened face and lowered brows, Ryan was once again in familiar territory. It seemed he’d spent his entire life on the wrong side of this man. Why should his late twenties be any different?
“You need to take this seriously, Ryan,” Alex said. “Do you want to work for tips for the rest of your life when you have other alternatives?”
“Better than wasting away in an office all day.”
The answer was quick and hot, laced with a venom he hadn’t expected of himself. It was an old wound, an old argument. Ryan had never wanted to be part of the real estate empire his grandfather had started and his father had brought to fruition. Half the reason he worked as a bartender was it pissed off his father to have a DeMarco working for tips. The other half was he’d rather spend his time in more creative pursuits.
“You don’t leave me a choice, Ryan.” Alessandro’s voice was sharp and firm, the no-nonsense press of his lips sending Ryan right back to his teenage years. “Your grandmother may have tolerated your attitude, but I won’t. As of next month, you will no longer be receiving your allowance from the trust fund.”
“But—”
His father held up a hand, and Ryan shut his mouth with a click of his teeth. “The trust fund allows the trustee to release the remainder of your portion to you on your thirtieth birthday. Prove you can get your life in order before then, or I will redistribute your share to the other beneficiaries.”
That was over two years. Ryan stood with his hands fisted at his side. “You can’t do that!”
His father remained seated, calm as though he’d merely doled out mundane family news. This wasn’t his cousin dumping her boyfriend. This was his entire future. He had plans for the money. Important plans.
“I talked to my lawyer. I can, in fact, do that. All decisions regarding the trust fund are in my hands now that your grandmother is gone. And as you have yet to show any ambition or talent or desire to be a grown man, I’ve decided you won’t receive the money until you can prove otherwise.”
Ryan could try to fight this, but it would require the money he no longer had access to. He opened his mouth to protest again but closed it. His father had won this round.
Alessandro rose and stalked out of the room, leaving Ryan simmering in his anger. They sat in silence until the door to the office slammed shut.
“Mom…” Ryan turned to her with his best puppy-dog-eyed look, but her face hardened before any further words fell out of his mouth.
“Enough, sweetheart. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but you had to push his buttons. You’ve managed to avoid any resemblance of adult responsibility thanks to your grandmother. She’s gone now, and your father is in charge of the family.”
Her words were a knife in the gut. Ryan itched to shout at her, tell her he wasn’t stupid. Nonna was dead, but he still couldn’t get out those words. He knew it in his head, but the idea hadn’t burrowed into his heart. Until today. Today reminded him of how much his grandmother had truly meant to him. She had been the only person in his entire family, including his aunts and uncles and all those cousins, who’d understood him. Nonna was gone, and his father now had the ultimate authority over everyone’s future, including his.
“We only want what’s best for you.” His mother’s tone softened and became her usual conciliatory alto attempting to smooth over whatever damage his father had inflicted. She reached out a hand Ryan did not take.
“If you need a real job,” his brother said, “Val is leaving soon. We could use an office manager who is at least familiar with the family.”
“I have a job.” Ryan wished he could keep the snide tone out of his voice. It made him sound like a petulant teenager, but he was beyond pissed off.
