“I’m a classy guy, don’t you know?” I sat and stretched out my legs. “Tell me about it. Growing up, I mean.”
Brenner shut down. “I really don’t—”
I decided enough was enough. Time to spill my guts.
“My father cheated on my dying mother with his personal assistant. But it didn’t start with her. When I was fifteen and on a school trip, he was in the same city. I thought it would be fun to surprise him, so I sneaked out of my hotel to his. When I got off the elevator, I saw him with another woman. They were kissing at the door to her room before they went inside. His hand was on her ass. I turned around and left.” That image remained seared in my brain. Forever. “I had to go back and pretend everything was okay to my mother because I couldn’t tell her. She was going through treatment, and I’d be damned if I would tell her anything to upset her. She died in the middle of my father’s third term, and he married Paige. They wanted me to come and be part of the wedding. It was too soon—not even a year since she’d passed, and I was still mourning her death, so I didn’t go. But I was a nice fucking guy and sent a present. I received a formal thank-you and then nothing. I’ve never met Paige, and I wouldn’t give a damn about them, except I have a four-year-old half sister.” My voice cracked, and I gulped half my drink. “I had to find out from a press release that she was born—I wasn’t invited to the christening or any of her birthday parties. And every picture I see of her kills me.”
“West, I’m sorry. I-I never knew.”
“No one does. And when that bastard is asked,Where’s your son? Where’s Weston? How come he’s not here?he lies and says I’m too busy working in New York City. If he ever once let me know, I’d get on a fucking plane and be there for her. Not him.”I laughed. “Because they’ve never invited me for Christmas, Thanksgiving, or any vacations they’ve taken. I’ve seen their holiday cards, and it’s just the three of them. Like I don’t exist.”
Pale and stunned, Brenner touched my arm. “West, I’m—”
“Don’t say it.” I stared unseeing at the television screen. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t want pity—yours or anyone’s. I only told you so that you’ll know why I am the way I am. After I caught him in his sleazy affair, I didn’t give a damn about anything. The one thing I knew was that I’d never be anything like him—it’s why I refused to go to his alma mater and chose a different school. He was furious, but that only made me happier and more driven. When we met in law school and you challenged me, I took out on you all the anger I’d bottled up over my father’s infidelity and my mother’s illness. I focused on one thing—being number one. I couldn’t lose. It had nothing to do with you personally. It would’ve been anyone who stood in my way.”
“Makes sense. I guess we both had secrets we weren’t willing to share. I figured you were a rich, spoiled kid who had everything handed to him and never had to work for it.”
My lips twitched. “Iwasa rich, spoiled kid who had everything handed to him. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t smart. Or didn’t work hard. Playing tag team with you for best in class was a great incentive.”
“Glad I could help.”
“Was that a joke, Fleming? Don’t tell me you have a sense of humor too.”
“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” he razzed, and I didn’t understand why I noticed how his eyes crinkled shut when he laughed.
“Don’t get too full of yourself, Fleming.”
You’re cute too, but I can’t say that.
“Polls are closed. They’re beginning to call races.” The humor faded from Brenner’s face as he glanced at me.
My lip curled in disdain as the networks called the primary for my father almost immediately. “Well, that’s that. The great Preston wins again—this time by twenty points. That’ll feed his ego.”
“What about his opponent in November?”
I shrugged. “No idea. But you see the polls. He’s leading. I may hate his guts, but the people love him.”
A smiling news reporter advised us that my father was about to make his victory speech. Brenner picked up the remote. “I’ll shut it off.”
“No. I want to hear what he says. I love when the lying, cheating fucker talks about family values.”
The set cut to the podium of the ballroom, where hundreds of supporters were packed in to hear him speak. They didn’t have to wait long. He strode onto the stage, trim as ever in his navy suit and red-white-and-blue-striped tie, golden hair silvering at the temples. His skin was tanned, unlined, and glowing. Paige, with Emily in her arms, wore a red dress, her blond hair glittering under the lights.
“You don’t look like him except for the hair,” Brenner remarked.
“And thank God for that. I take after my mother’s side of the family. I’m named after her—Weston is her maiden name.”
“You’re from Texas?”
“Yeah,” I said warily, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading and hating it.
His jaw dropped. “Shit, are you…Weston Oil?”
I didn’t want to meet his eyes. “That was my great-grandfather. I obviously have nothing to do with the company,but I won’t deny that it’s where my mother’s family’s money comes from. They bankrolled my father’s career, never knowing he was cheating on her probably from the get-go.”
My attention was drawn again to my father as he basked in his glory before the music lowered and the din of the crowd lessened.
“My fellow Americans, we did it. Thank you for this win as we march to take back the White House. We have so much work to do. I look forward to the upcoming races and being your party’s nominee. I called my challengers and wished them well and hope they stand by my side. I want to thank you all for being here and all the hard work you’ve put in these past months. This victory is yours as much as it is mine.” The crowd roared with approval.
