In reality, I could’ve put an office anywhere. Oklahoma City would’ve been strategic too. Prime commerce, trucking hubs, and easy access to suppliers, but I’d wanted to get away. It was time.
But when I’d looked at the map, there hadn’t been as many viable options as I might’ve liked. I hated New York with a fiery passion. Sadie had staked her claim on California as a whole. Dallas was too small and I’d burned enough bridges here over the years to know better than to compete with every other rancher.
Chicago, however, was perfect. It was exactly what I needed to sharpen my claws as a businessman in a city that required brains, connections, and a little bit of charm.
Plus, I knew people there.
More Westwoods, of course.
Alexander Westwood, to be exact. Probably my closest friend aside from Jameson. Alex had the connections and the network I needed if I was going to make it in that market. And more importantly, he was investing heavily in my breeding program.
That kind of trust didn’t come cheap or easy, but I still appeased my mom with the obligatory news she wanted to hear. “It’s not forever. One day, I’ll settle down. Find a wife. Fill the many bedrooms in my house.”
My massive, unused house. One day, I would make good on all those promises, but not today. For now, I had a flight to catch. Chicago had been operating without me for three months and the business wasn’t going to wait while I twiddled my thumbs in Texas. It was booming. I had to go and make sure it stayed that way.
“I’m going to hold you to that,Tiberius.”
I almost flinched. She only used my given name when she was about seven seconds away from wanting to cut my balls off. Not that dad would let her. I needed those to give him six or seven grandsons, all of whom would bear his name if I would allow it.
At least Mom seemed satisfied. She finally walked away, the heels of her boots clicking down the hall as she left me alone with Dad.
When he turned back to me, his expression was serious and his fingers drummed against the wood, much more attentive now that we were done talking about the program.Go figure.
He leveled me with a somber stare, his glass hanging from his fingertips as he looked me over. “Are you serious about this ranch, Trent, or is Chicago just another city for you to fuck your way through?”
Of course, he’s only ever cared about the family name.I met his gaze steadily, about to tell him that it didn’t get much moreserious about the ranchthan what I was doing, but that seemed to have been a rhetorical question because he wasn’t done yet.
“You need to get your shit together and grow up. I can pull this ranch out from underneath you at any time and leave it all to Sadie. She’d cuddle the cows and name the calves or sell it all off, but either way, it won’t be yours.”
CHAPTER 3
CHARLOTTE
Our family home was in an affluent suburb on the outskirts of Chicago. I still lived here with Dad and a few of my brothers. We could all afford to leave, but only a couple of us had chosen to do it so far.
There was just no need. Our home was as sprawling as the San Francisco Westwoods’ property, with so much space that we rarely even saw each other if we didn’t go looking. Besides, I liked living here. The safety, the familiarity, and the kind of views and spacious rooms I would never find in the city.
I sat in the parlor outside Dad’s office, flipping through a fashion magazine and pretending to read the latest trends in blush-colored satin while the argument between Alex and Dadcrescendoedbehind the closed door.
If I hadn’t been so used to it, I might’ve been alarmed, but this was nothing new. Loud voices, differing opinions, and sharp tongues reigned supreme around here. The house had practically been built on chaos.
Large as it might be, with seven men under one roof, each staking their claim and thinking their way was the right one, utter insanity was unavoidable. It was a little better these days, now that some of my brothers had moved out, but they stillcame by so often that it didn’t make as much of a difference as I might’ve thought.
As for me, I’d always managed just fine, perched on the edge of it all as the only woman in the house after Mom’s tragic death ten years ago. But being the only girl wasn’t exactly difficult or a hardship.
They didn’t coddle me. They didn’toverprotectme day in and day out. Mostly, they just counted me as another guy and it suited me to a tee.
I had six older brothers, for God’s sake. I could hold my own, and if I wanted glittery pink nail polish, I bought it myself and never looked back. I never had to explain it to anyone because they didn’t see me as their little, highly feminine sister. Frankly, they rarely even noticed things like nail polish.
Basically, that meant I could pretty much do what I wanted and they were all too busy to care. Mostly, anyway. I glanced up from the magazine when Dad’s voice carried through the door again, his tone sharp, intense, and deliberate.
“Harlan’s boys are all married now,” he said, referring to his older brother and the father of my cousins in San Francisco. “He married all four of them off in rapid order. Hell, maybe it’s time I take a page out of his book.”
Alex scoffed and it was tinged with annoyance. Dad must’ve heard it too, because he dug in further. “It’s the Westwood way, Alex. You’re the CEO of Westwood & Sons, Midwest and East Coast Division now. You should have been marriedbeforeI gave you the position. That’s how Harlan did it with Sterling and it’s how we’ll keep the legacy alive. We’ve been doing it that way for over a hundred years and it works.”
Alex muttered under his breath, words I couldn’t catch, but I imagined them to be colorful, probably involving variations ofbullshitandSeriously, Dad, this again?
Listening to the argument brought a smirk to my lips.Legacy, marriage, the Westwood way.
