“You won three Michelin stars. Clearly, you have taste.”Her gaze turns wicked. "Just not good sense."
I pause, studying her. "Care to explain?"
She sits up. Her back is straight, her shoulders back.
"You’re the oldest."
"I’m aware."
Gideon, who’s the closest, tops up my glass. His look says, you’re going to need it. Margot’s lectures are not for the faint of heart. And are easier to stomach with fine alcohol. I take a sip of the whiskey with gratitude.
"You need to set an example for your brothers." She frowns. “Unlike your uncle.” Looking in Tristan’s direction.
“Leave me out of this.” Tristan pretends to concentrate on his cards.
My brothers exchange amused glances.
Gideon scoffs, "Whatever he does, I’d do the exact opposite."
It’s true. I joined the Marines. Gideon embraced capitalism and joined the family business.
"If you’re Lachlan, you make sure you’re on another continent. That way, you’re as far away as possible from family pressure and from having to follow in the footsteps of our older brothers." Beckett taps his cards.
He’s referring to our youngest brother, who makes sure to keep well clear of the rest of the family.
Lachlan is with Doctors without Borders, and as a result, he's gone a lot of the time.
As for our second youngest brother Rowan, he’s a high-profile venture capitalist and spends a lot of time in Silicon Valley.
"If you’re the grandmother trying to shepherd her grandkids like errant donkeys, you use every weapon in your arsenal,” Margot huffs.
Tristan finally raises his gaze.
What he sees on Margot’s face has him furrowing his forehead. "Uh-oh. I don’t trust that gleam in your eyes, Mother.”
"What’re you up to Margot?" I roll my shoulders, trying to dispel the ache that’s settled there. Pretty normal, after having worked a twelve-hour day shift without a break.
"I love your parents, but they’re too busy traveling around the world to interfere"—she coughs—"I mean, to steer you boys into settling down."
"No doubt, you’re going to step in?" Beckett smirks.
"Don’t be cheeky." Margot levels him with a look known to make employees quiver in their shoes. Beckett merely smiles wider, knowing he’s her favorite.
"Are you going to hold our inheritances over us, unless we do as you say?" I lean back in my seat.
"Did you think I’d stoop that low?" She scoffs.
"Yes." I smirk.
"Yes." Tristan chuckles.
"Yes." Gideon and Beckett nod in unison.
Margot looks around the table. Her eyes sparkle. "Good to know I’m not underestimated.”
"You’re not upset?" I ask slowly.
"Why should I be upset?" She puffs on her cigar. "I’ve always been honest about my intentions. I want to be alive long enough to see my great-grandchildren."
