“You know it. Take it easy.”
The next call he made was to the prison. He had no desire to drag himself upstate to tell that lump of a man he was finished with him. He tapped his foot, waiting for Kemp to get on the other end.
He wondered how Spencer was doing. The first few days at his new job had seen him easing into his role as Webster’s Director of Luxury Experience, but today was the big meeting where he’d be introduced to the corporate staff of directors. And that was huge.
When Wolf had asked how he’d come up with the titleDirector of Luxury Experience, Spencer had grinned.
“I’m all about making sure that when people stay at a Webster property, they’ll feel they’re the most special person in the world. It should be an experience like no other. I want them to feel like they’re always on the brink of an orgasm.”
“Like how you are with me?”
“You’ve got it wrong, Wolfie. I think it’s the other way around.” Spencer scoffed, and Wolf wrestled him to the bed and kissed him until Spencer threw his arms in the air.
“All right, already. I surrender.”
“You always do.”
The phone clattered, and Kemp’s raspy voice came on. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Kemp, this is your attorney, Wolf. I’m calling to tell you that I’ve been recused as your counsel. A new attorney will be assigned to you.”
“What?” he squawked. “Whaddya mean you ain’t my lawyer no more? You’re getting me a deal.”
Wolf raised his eyes to the ceiling. God help him. “As I explained to you when we met last, I can’t represent you because I have a personal relationship with your son. As far as I’m concerned, that is a conflict of interest, and the judge agreed. I’ve been removed, and your new attorney, whoever that might be, will be in touch. The Brooklyn DA is aware of the case, and your plea deal will remain intact so long as you don’t renege and you give them the information they’re asking for. Understand?”
“Yeah.”
One thing had been troubling Wolf, and since this was the last time he’d have any contact with Kemp, he needed to know.
“Why did you call Spencer the other day? How did you even know the phone number at his job?”
“He gave it to the prison as my next of kin. Ya know, in case of an emergency. I called his cell phone and then tried the other number.”
“But why did you call him? What did you want?”
He could hear Kemp breathing on the other end, so knew the man hadn’t hung up on him.
“I dunno. It got to me…staring at the floor all day. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I thought maybe he’d wanna talk to me…maybe come see me.”
“And he should want that why? Because you were such a good father and husband? Because you cared about him?”
“I’m his father.”
“So what?” Wolf spat out. “Were you being his loving father when you burned those clothes he was so proud of winning or shredded those books and magazines? Did you help him when he was being bullied at school? Spencer doesn’t have one good memory with you growing up. It’s easy to make a child. It’s hard as hell to be a parent.”
“What the fuck do you know about it?”
“Nothing. And neither do you, apparently.”
Wolf disconnected the call, and breathing hard, buried his hands in his hair. It tore him apart that he did have those good memories of his parents. He didn’t want them. He wanted…who the hell knew what he wanted? Certainly not this forlorn sadness. This…emptiness.
He rubbed his face, and as always, stuffed those remembrances of the past away to concentrate on his work, but for the first time that strategy failed, and the words on the page swam in front of his eyes. At five o’clock he gave up and left, unable to concentrate, knowing the night he had before him.
When he walked into his apartment, he was surprised to find Spencer there, greeting him with a hug.
“What’re you doing here?” He held on to Spencer, realizing he’d been unaware of how much he needed him until that very moment.
“I live here,” Spencer replied.
