I was thirteen when I first found out about my father’s infidelity. I used his credit card to book a flight back to England so I could tell my mother in person, but she wasn’t expecting me. That was clear enough when her lover answered the door. No wonder neither of them had time for me.
I feel like all I’ve ever wanted since that day is a proper family. One that eats dinner together every night and goes on holidays.
I thought I had it once, but then she went back to her ex. I realized after, when I wasn’t nearly as upset as I should have been, that she was right. We never would have worked.
On the other end of the line, the clack of typing stops. “So, have you looked over the latest offer I sent you?”
I take a gulp of water, letting the ice-cold temperature cool my frustration. “I’m not taking a job with you.”
“I upped the salary. I’m being extremely generous, Roman.”
I put the glass down on the wooden surface of the island and turn around so I can see out the window above the kitchen counters. I ground myself in the rows of trees and the setting sun. Oranges melting into pink, the kind of colors you never find in the city. “It’s not about the money.”
Dear Old Dad scoffs. “Everything is about money.”
“I won’t work for an oil company. I won’t be shut up inside an office making dodgy deals with corrupt governments.”
His sigh rattles down the line. “That’s your legacy you’re insulting, Roman. It’s time you stop playing farmer and come do the work you were born for.”
I pick up the phone. We can’t go a single conversation without him reminding me that I was only born to be his heir and I don’t have it in me to go another two rounds with him right now. “I’ve got to go, Dad.”
I’m about to end the call when he says, “I hear Lola’s back in town.”
My finger hovers over the red button. “How did you hear that?”
“You’re better than her. Don’t go turning down my offer for some childish infatuation.”
I don’t know how my father knows Lola’s back home, but I shouldn’t be surprised. He makes it his business to find out information and use it to his advantage.
“Lola’s just a friend. She has nothing to do with this,” I say, because the thought of my father paying even the slightest bit of attention to Lola makes me sick. “And my answer is still no.” I end the call.
My father can offer me as much money as he wants, I won’t work for him. I’m not playing farmer. I’m running a successful business. One that I’m passionate about. One that allows me to be outside and not stuck in a white-walled office.
My dad inherited Banks Corp from my grandfather. He never wanted any other path for himself, and he can’t understand why I’m not just falling in line. But then I guess it must be hard to understand someone with whom you’ve spent so little time.
I empty the rest of my water into the spider plant on the island, then put my glass in the dishwasher and climb the stairs up to what used to be the hay loft. It’s now a balcony that runs along the right-hand side of the stables and halfway across the back.
My bed is positioned under a skylight, and I’ve set up a reading nook along the back wall of the stables. A hand-built bookshelf with a sofa and an armchair that Mase calls my “old man living room”. I sit up there and look out over the railing to the rest of the space below.
After spending years in cramped boarding school dorms, I love the openness of it all. The only room in the entire stables that’s got walls and a door is the bathroom off to the side of my bed.
I pull my shirt off over my head as I walk inside the renovated space to have a shower.
I tip my head back, feeling the water run through my hair, and try to stop my mind from straying to Lola. I thought I hadmy feelings for her under control. Not thinking about her at all proved too difficult so I set myself rules. After each visit I was allowed the time it took for me to shower to let my mind run free.
My plan worked great when Lola was only stopping for a flying visit every six months or so between her travels but now she’s home, my every thought works its way back to her.
I picture my hands on her skin. Her head thrown back as I trace my fingers lower. Purple strands of hair threaded through my fingers after I’ve ordered her to her knees. Those sweet, bratty lips flushed and open.
I groan and press my forehead against the cold stone tiles. I’m rock hard. This is normally the part where I turn the water to arctic and busy my hands washing my hair, so I don’t use them to do what I really want. But after today I can’t hold back anymore. I wrap my fist around my cock and let my eyes flutter shut. A groan spills from my lips as I stroke myself to completion to filthy fantasies about my best friend’s little sister.
It’s not until I’ve pulled on a pair of sweats and see the message on my phone that I regret it.
Kelsey: Need you to come to the Lagoon, Mase is looking for a fight and there are Vipers here.
Fuck.I throw on a T-shirt and head back out to my pick-up. I don’t know what Mase is thinking. Out of the Ford siblings, he’s the level-headed one but something went down on his last mission, and he’s not been the same since.
I drive as fast as I dare to the Lagoon, parking in the beach car park and crossing the promenade on foot to the local bar. The Lagoon is one of the few beachfront spots that stays open all year round. The bar tapped into the indie music scene a few years back and despite it getting flooded with tourists eachsummer the locals still consider it our own. It’s also the only place deemed neutral ground for the Vipers MC.
