CHAPTER 1
MILES
“So that’s the plan,” Miles Aspin said, his driver dangling over his shoulder as his father lined up his shot. Miles would hit second — he always did when he golfed with his father. It was a fifty-fifty chance whether Silas Aspin would be interested in listening to anything his son had to say while he was taking his own shot, but Miles’s habit was to maximize every moment he had with his father. After all, the man had taught him everything he knew.
“Well, it sounds like you’ve thought this through,” Silas said, not taking his eyes off his ball. He swung his driver back and connected, sending it sailing up into the air. Dropping the club through his grip so he was holding it by the neck, he shaded his eyes and watched the ball fly off. “That one’s on the green.”
Miles nodded. He’d expected nothing different. As with everything else in his life, his father was always successful on the links. He placed his own ball on the tee, but rather than square up to take his swing, he regarded his father for a moment. “So, you think it’s a good idea?” he asked.
“Merging with BasTech?”
“AcquiringBasTech,” Miles said. “Roland Bastion is selling to me, not entering into a partnership.”
“Well, that is better,” Silas said. “You don’t want to lose the controlling stake of the company.”
“Or the branding,” Miles agreed. “We’ll always be Gold Standard, if I have anything to say about it.” It was the name his father had made famous, and now almost every household in America — and many throughout the world — had at least one Gold Standard product, whether it was an appliance, a computer, a television, or even one of their range of high-end home furnishings.
“Acquiring BasTech means we’ll take over production of their outdoor grills, patio furniture, Jacuzzis and in-home spas, and garbage disposals,” Miles said.
His father raised his eyebrows. “Garbage disposals?”
Miles shrugged. “It comes with the rest,” he said. “If we can start selling disposals under the Gold Standard name, it’s a new revenue stream. What was it you always said to me? Diversification is security, and security is profit?”
“Take your shot.” Silas’s mind was still on the game. Miles lined up and struck his ball, watching as it sailed toward the green. He felt sure it would land within an inch of where his father’s had struck. Silas turned to look at him. “Diversification is all well and good,” he agreed. “I just wonder if maybe you’re putting too much of your focus into all this.”
“Into Gold Standard? That’s your baby, Dad. You’ve been telling me all your life how you built the company from the ground up, how it’s your legacy… our family’s legacy. That’s what you alwayssay. Don’t youwantme to put work into it? Don’t you want me to do all I can to make sure we’re a success?”
“Oh, of course I do,” his father said. “I just want to make sure that you’re not neglecting other areas.”
“You mean, like research and development?”
His father chuckled. “I’m sure the R and D is fine,” he said. “No, I’m talking about your personal life, Miles. When was the last time you had any fun? It seems like you’re always at the office.”
“I’m out golfing with you right now,” Miles pointed out.
“Yes, but we had to reschedule three times because you kept telling me something had come up. What’s keeping you so busy all the time that you can’t even get away for eighteen holes with your own father? Our company is pretty stable at this point, Miles. It’s not as if we’re at risk of bankruptcy. You’d be fine if you devoted some time and energy to self-care.”
“Self-care?” Miles stared at his father. “What have you been watching, Dad?”
“Well, now that you mention it, there’s a great series of videos by a self-help mogul that you should check out. I’ll send you the link.”
“Have you been body-snatched?” Miles asked. “You don’t sound like yourself at all, Dad.”
Then a more sinister explanation occurred to him. He knew his father’s heart issues had gotten worse lately — he had insisted on accompanying him to his last physical. It was after that appointment, after hearing the doctor talk sternly about the effects of stress on Silas’s heart, that Miles had insisted on taking over the lion’s share of the responsibilities at Gold Standard. Hisfather hadn’t quite taken an early retirement — he still attended meetings from time to time — but he spent a great deal more time relaxing and trying to take care of his health than he had previously.
Still, that had never meant he was the kind of man who watched self-help gurus on the internet. There had to be another reason. “Did you get a new report from Dr. Roberts?” Miles asked his father. “Is there an update?” He held his breath. What else could explain his father’s behavior, but a turn for the worse?
Silas just laughed. “You really think I wouldn’t tell you to prioritize your own happiness unless I was dying, Miles?”
Miles wasn’t sure how to respond. He wouldn’t have put it that crudely, but his father’s first priorityhadalways been the business. Miles’s priorities had always been in line with his father’s. And now his father seemed to be telling him that was wrong, that he wanted Miles to pay attention to other things instead.
“When was the last time you went on a date?” his father asked.
“Dad. I do live in the twenty-first century,” Miles said. “What do you mean, adate?”
“People go on dates,” his father insisted. “My friend Steve tells me his son is on the apps. Are you on the apps?”
“Am Ion the apps?” He felt like he had fallen into a science-fiction novel. “How do you even know about the apps?”
