I needed a drink.
My brothers darted outside while I went up to the clubroom.
The old Harrogate estate house had a large room that the architect had told us was the clubroom. It had a built-in bar and was completely clad in wood. In the middle of the room stood a giant globe that I wouldn’t let the kids touch because it was some sort of priceless antique. The furniture consisted of large leather chairs—a mix of what had been left over in the house when we bought it and pieces the architect said were period appropriate. Usually, we kept the room locked because that was where we stored the liquor.
The light was on when I approached. Inside, several of my brothers were lounging around, drinking.
“So, you all were here, and the kids were downstairs running wild.”
Parker grunted. “We were entertaining Greg.”
My attention snapped to my half brother. We had been born days apart, and he was perpetually a thorn in my side. He lived in Manhattan, ran Svensson Investment, and never helped out with the kids.
“I’m surprised you’re not out with your fake girlfriend,” Greg said snidely, pausing with his glass in his hand. “What’s the latest one’s name? Fern?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Did Meg take you back?” Weston asked. “We have her room ready.”
I blew out a breath. “Not yet.”
Mace snorted.
I glared at him and poured a glass of scotch.
“We could have just had a call about the new residential development,” I told Greg as I sipped my drink. “Or are you here about Dad?”
“No,” Greg said. “I’m here to talk about your mayoral campaign.”
I froze for a moment.
Weston sucked his drink down the wrong pipe and started coughing loudly. Parker banged him on the back.
“I thought Meg was going to be the next mayor?” Mace asked in concern. “She’s the deputy mayor. So that means she moves up to mayor, right?”
“Barry was just elected for a new six-year term,” Greg said smoothly, “and I will not have our development prospects curtailed for the better part of the next decade. We will therefore force an election for the open seat.”
“No,” I told Greg, shaking my head. “If I run for mayor, Meg would literally never forgive me.”
“You have to,” Greg said simply. “Who else is going to do it? One of the teenagers? You’re the only one here who is unemployed.”
“I look after the kids.”
“And they were swinging from the chandelier when I arrived,” Greg said coldly. He stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. “For years I have had to suffer through making concession after worthless concession to the City of Harrogate to push even the smallest development through the approval process. With one of our own running things in this city, we can finally build whatever we want.”
“You can’t destroy the character of the city,” Mace insisted. “That’s part of the marketing for recruiting talent to Svensson PharmaTech.”
“And to ThinkX,” Weston added.
“No skyscrapers,” Garrett added. “Penny would kill me.”
“I’m not going to plop a skyscraper down, but we need better margins on our residential projects. I can’t spend ten percent of the budget on community centers and parks.”
“Parks are good for public heath,” Parker said.
“This city is lousy with parks, and there is a greenbelt, and you can drive a mile outside of town and hit countryside. There is no reason for us having to give kickbacks to the city,” Greg insisted.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was still stuck on Meg. All she had wanted was to finally be mayor. She would be devastated.
