Of course you are, you arrogant son of a bitch, he thinks to himself.
‘I mean, it’s not like I can’t afford it,’ Greg says. ‘But if I bail you out now, you won’t learn from your mistakes.’
Ted watches Jill go from disbelief to anger. He shrugs. He’s not going to stick around for a lecture. ‘Fine. I think we’ll be going.’ He finishes his champagne and puts his glass down. ‘We don’t want to waste any more of your valuable time.’ He stands, buttoning his jacket, his dignity intact, because he knows what Greg doesn’t know. Jill is still rooted to her rattan chair, her face flushed. ‘Come on, Jill, we’re leaving.’
‘You don’t have to go just because you didn’t get your way,’ Greg says.
Jill rises then and flashes a resentful look at Greg over her shoulder as they leave.
He looks back at Greg too, still standing on the terrace, drink in hand, watching them make their swift exit. He is going to rid the world of his brother somehow. And he will take everything he has.
Chapter Six
THE HEAT ANDhumidity hit Ted full force as soon as they step out of the lobby. He can feel his shirt quickly become sticky beneath his jacket. Jill doesn’t speak as their Uber arrives and they get in. They are both silent, brooding, on the way home. But once they get inside, once Ted closes the heavy door behind them and they’re standing in their front foyer, Jill explodes.
‘What a pompous son of a bitch!’ she says, tossing her Celine purse onto the side table in the foyer.
‘That’s Greg, all right,’ he agrees.
She turns on him, fuming. ‘You don’t seem that bothered.’
‘It’s just that I’m not surprised,’ he says. She’d had her hopes pinned on Greg rescuing them; he hadn’t been so sure.
They walk into the front room, and Jill kicks off her heels and drops into the deep sofa facing the tall windows. Ted moves to the sideboard near the double doors and pours her a stiff drink– a healthy shot of whiskey. ‘Here,’ he says, coming over and handing it to her, ‘you need this.’ Then he pours one for himself.
‘What are we going to do now?’ she asks plaintively. ‘Is there anyone else who might loan you that kind of money?’
‘Other than a bank with the brownstone as security? No.’
She says bitterly, ‘He doesn’t care that you’re in trouble. It’s like he wasenjoyingit.’
‘He’s always enjoyed seeing me fail,’ Ted says, then wishes he could take it back. ‘When we were kids, I mean. He loved it if he beat me in tennis, for example.’ He adds, ‘Which wasn’t very often.’ He doesn’t tell her how Greg regularly bested him in school, bragging about his better grades. How Greg did just that much better in sports, with friends, with girls.
She drinks deeply and says, ‘What would your parents think?’
Ah yes, his parents. His mother, dead from cancer almost ten years ago now, had tried so hard to make her sons get along, to curtail their competitiveness. She modelled all sorts of kindly, even saintly, behaviour, but it didn’t seem to make much difference. Their father had been okay with a little healthy rivalry, although he’d always seemed to favour Greg. But even he would probably be appalled if he’d seen what happened today. Ted is desperate, Greg could have helped, and he chose not to. With their parents gone, Greg seems to feel like he can get away with anything, as if he’s been freed from the bonds of family, of decency. Come to think of it, Ted is feeling the same way. What would his mother think, he wonders now, if she knew he was planning to murder Greg?
‘They wouldn’t like it, I imagine,’ he says, answering her. ‘But they’re not here, so Greg will do what he likes.’ He tosses back a gulp of his scotch and looks at Jill.
‘I hate him,’ Jill says venomously. ‘I hope he gets hit by a truck.’
‘Wouldn’t that be nice,’ he agrees.
‘He’s so full of himself; he doesn’t give a shit about anyone else. No wonder Min left him.’ She pauses. ‘I don’t suppose we could ask Min for a loan?’
‘No.’ The last time he’d seen Min was in his office mere days ago when she’d been yelling at him about losing her money. She’d moved her accounts, as she’d threatened to do.
Jill takes another sip of her drink and continues. ‘He could easily afford to help us out. I mean, how much is he even worth, do you know?’
‘I have a pretty good idea.’ He’s made a point of following Greg’s net worth, scanning various news articles and financial publications.
‘So, how much?’
‘About forty-five million, give or take.’
‘You’re fucking kidding me.’
He doesn’t want to explain. When they had each inherited equal millions on the death of their father, Greg had become the successful entrepreneur he was always destined to be and had grown his money. And Ted had not. The brownstone was the best investment he had ever made, despite the fortune they’d spent improving it. But it’s clear from everything that has happened since that he doesn’t have the knack for success that Greg has. He hates his brother for it. Even when they were kids, he could see it, that Greg was destined for big things. He was the right man for the times. Ted thinks of himself as living in the wrong age– he’s not suited for what today’s world requires. He’s not smart enough. Nimble enough. Bold enough. Visionary enough. Cutthroat enough.
