“You heard your mother,” Gramps said. “What type of asshole son did I raise? More worried about wealth and status than his own flesh and blood. Well, boys, I have some news for you…” Gramps looked at my dad and uncles and paused to stare each of them down. “As of Monday, there’s a new CEO and CFO.” Gramps grinned, and we all frowned. What the hell? Those were Thad’s and my uncle Strafford’s positions. “Lowell and Prescott will be running the family business from now on. Thatcher and Barrett will also fill the COO and CMO roles.”
I glanced at my brother and Barrett, noting their lack of surprise. Holy crap. Gramps had just cut his sons out.
“You can’t do that,” Dad yelled as he stood up.
“Yes, I can, and have. I don’t like what you four boys have become. You’ve all forgotten the value of hard work and humility. Those wives of yours have ruined all of you and tricked you into thinking you’re better than you are. We came from working-class people. I gave you jobs and brought you updecently. Who knows what got into you, but you luckily didn’t ruin the grandchildren. By the way, I reinstated Aubrey’s trust fund. You had no right to disinherit him!”
“Who wants pizza?” Nana asked as she and Gramps rounded the table.
I stared, stunned. What the hell had just happened? Whatever it was, I was with them. “I do,” I responded.
Gramps smiled. “Come on, kids, let’s go celebrate my birthday how I’d like it to be celebrated. Not how they think it should be done,” Gramps said, and we followed him out.
Chapter Three.
Allegra
“Can you believe what Gramps and Nana did?” I asked Damon as we entered the club.
“Yeah. They weren’t happy when they heard what Mom and Dad did to Aubrey. Sure, Aubrey’s unconventional, but he’s making a real career for himself.”
“Thatch mentioned that Aubrey signed up for a second season of the game event he was hosting,” I said.
“Yup. Aubrey’s drag queen act hits the audience at the right spot. He’s also been given a talk show, but he’s not announcing that yet.”
“You’re joking!” I gasped, overjoyed for my cousin. Damn, Aubrey deserved this; he’d worked so hard.
“Nope. Aubrey has signed, and they’re interviewing people now. It’s going to have some games and other stuff on it, make it a real entertainment thing,” Damon explained.
We grabbed a booth facing the stage and glanced around. We’d got here early to grab the front seats. Luckily, the booths were enormous, so we only needed one. We were waiting for everyone else to arrive, but people were starting to flood in.
The room was massive; the bar along the back wall with booths in front of it. The dance floor had been converted into a large stage. This was a huge annual event, but it was Aubrey’s first time here. Naturally, those in the family who cared about him showed up to support him. As the crowd grew, some drag queens came out and mingled with customers.
Aubrey went by the name of Madam Mischief. He’d developed the persona in his teens and perfected it over the years. Aubrey hadn’t been sure of the path he was going down, but had attended loads of competitions and cabaret shows. Soon, he began gaining recognition, and then he entered a TV series calledDrag Queens Forever. It ran for the planned three episodes, but it had been huge. There’d been catfights, screeching, bitching, jealousy, and temper tantrums. All through it, Aubrey won viewers’ hearts by being himself. He then, last year, signed up for a television programme, and here we were, Aubrey being a headlining act.
“I’ll go fetch some drinks,” I said to Damon, eyeing the bar.
“Yeah, ask them to deliver some pitchers or something,” Damon suggested.
The bar was beginning to get crowded, but there was still standing room. The bartender held up a finger.
I sensed eyes watching me and felt a little uncomfortable.
“How’d your grandfather like his presents?” a deep voice inquired, and I turned and spotted Shotgun. He checked me over, his gaze lingering, and a smile crossed his lips.
“Hey, Shotgun, how’s it going? Gramps loved them; he’ll be wearing the belt tonight, I’ve no doubt.”
“He’s coming here?” Shotgun asked, surprised, raising his eyebrows. I got it: a seventy-year-old man in a gay club. Not something you saw every day.
“Yeah. My cousin is Madam Mischief.”
“Really? Isn’t that one of the headlining acts?”
“Yes. Wouldn’t have thought this was your scene,” I replied, batting my eyelids.
Shotgun stared and chewed his bottom lip. That shit was sexy. “The club or the cabaret?”
“Both.”
