“No. We can’t.” My father’s courting of Henry Warren played out, and the man threw down five-million for The Grand. He’ll probably want the Honeymoon Suite we have planned out for him and his bride. “Still, a pharmaceutical man?”
“Crow is all about real estate on the side. He owns half of the Pacific Northwest now.”
“So I’ve heard. He’s also pissing people off in Portland because most of his buying leads to some of the fastest gentrification this country has ever seen.”
“Son, that’s Portland. It’s three-thousand miles away. People around here don’t give a rat’s ass about west coast real estate, unless they have a hand in it. Besides, that whole presentation you gave was all about how we’re not further gentrifying the old district. I don’t know what you have against this. Crow is known for being right in line with your lifestyle. In fact, he runs the most exclusive club on the west coast.”
I stiffen. My father knows about my “lifestyle” insofar people talk about seeing me at The Dark Hour, and he’s met a few of my past subs when I needed a date for a dinner or party. Plus, my mother knows everything, because she’s a nosy woman who is always up in my love life. When she’s drunk, she’s liable to tell my father everything about me. It’s a problem I ignore.
Until now.
“What Xavier Crow does in his private time doesn’t concern me, especially three-thousand miles away, as you say.” I drink more of the scotch to ease my nerves. “What does concern me is whether or not we want to be attached to a man like that.”
“It doesn’t matter, son, it’s been done. It was the only way we could pay the Andrews.”
In the days since we last negotiated, the Andrews presented a final offer of sixty-five-million. Still way above the worth of The Grand, but they were firm that they would not come down any farther, no matter how much my father presented the facts. They wouldn’t even listen to me, and they like me. They must need that money for something.
And on the subject of money, no matter how we crunched the numbers, nobody could come up with millions more. Our top budget was fifty. My father’s been busy wrestling up the extra fifteen, and apparently he found it in a new friend named Xavier Crow.
“Soon enough we will be the proud owners of The Grand. Then the real work begins.” My father tops off his drink with a smile. “That reminds me, Ian, we need to set up a crew for you on the administrative end. Your assistant won’t be enough.”
Ah, yes. My father is foisting all the real work on me. Managing the contractors, handling the money, dealing with the press… all the joys that come from a high profile remodel. I haven’t been sweating it because I know what needs to be done, but he’s right, it’s a lot of work for me to handle with only Valerie to count on. Yet if my father thinks I’m going to have a “team” of talking heads, he’s got another think coming.
“There’s only one person I want to work with,” I say. “I want Kathryn.”
He eyes me with what can only be described as curiosity. Maybe a little bemusement. “Alison? Well, sure, but… doesn’t she have her own shit to worry about right now?”
“I don’t doubt she’s looking for a new project to tie her over until they let her work on the museum. A school. A library. Some homeless shelter.” I match my father’s chuckle, just to let him know we’re on the same page. “That woman loves to give, if you know what I mean.”
Our eyes meet in the darkness of the room. Yes, Father, read into that all you want. This is the closest I’ve come to giving away what’s happening between Kathryn and I. For good reason. This is to my advantage.
My father speaks two languages. Money and women. Money we both understand. Women are another matter. This is the man who married a hot young thing when he knocked her up, divorced her after their twentieth anniversary, and then occasionally hooked up with her once in a while because hey, they’re still in love! Never let it be said the Mathers were level-headed individuals. My parents make me look like a saint with his shit together.
“So… you and Kathryn Alison.” My father goes from twisting his mouth in surprise to settling in his chair, laughing. “That woman’s a real hot-head, I hear. You gonna keep her in line?”
I want to scoff at his choice of words – my mother has her feminist teeth deep in my neck – but I have to play his game. Especially if I’m to get what I want. “You could say that. I only need her. Well, her and the assistant she’ll in turn bring. Of course she’ll demand a higher price tag than five lackeys put together, but she’s smart and knows what she’s doing. She’s worth those five lackeys and then some.”
“Uh huh. Does her father know about this? You know he and I go back…”
“I haven’t talked to the man since the presentation.” The one where I fucked his daughter in an empty room. “Anything you’re inferring needs to be kept quiet. Including from Mom.”
“I don’t tell that woman nothing, son. She doesn’t give me a chance with all her babbling.” He sounds like he’s whining, but he can’t hide the smile on his face. Yup. Still smitten. Divorced, but smitten. In a twisted way, it’s adorable. “All right. If it’s Kathryn you want, you can have her. And her assistant, but I’m assuming that’s on her payroll.”
“Simple case of trickledown economics.”
“Indeed.”
We clink our glasses together. Father thinks he’s being coy with that look as he says, “The Alisons are a good match in more ways than one. You know, Spencer and I used to joke about you two getting married when the girl was born.”
I try not to grimace. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Nothing’s really happening.”
“You’re a young man, she’s a young beautiful woman…”
“We don’t have much in common outside of that.”
“And yet here you are, asking my permission to hire her. She may be smart at this sort of thing, but it’s no coincidence that you would get to spend a lot of time with her.”
Before I can respond, my father opens his mouth again.
“Use that time well, son.”
I keep a stern eye on him as I finish my drink. I don’t know what he’s implying, but everything he’s said today has sounded dodgy as hell. It’s going to be a long project.
Assuming Kathryn says yes to working with me. I haven’t even asked yet.
Chapter 30
KATHRYN
There’s a lot buzzing through my head right now, most of which concerns the fact I’m riding in an elevator up to Ian’s condo.
I haven’t been here in a few days. Not since that night, which ended with bagels and cream cheese over coffee. And oral sex for me.
After that, I took another shower, put my trench coat back on, and took a cab home without another kiss or hug from Ian. I didn’t want them.
Then last night I heard from him for the first time. “Meet me somewhere to talk business.” I’ve been feeling pretty antisocial as I sort my shit out, so I told him I didn’t want to do dinner or drinks even in a private lounge. That’s how I ended up in this elevator, making my mad ascent to that place we last made love.
Made love. Not words I thought I would ever say in relation to Ian Mathers.
I’m dressed for business, not pleasure. I’m on my period anyway, so fuck sex. And I don’t mean well I guess I’ll give you a blowjob period. I mean don’t fucking touch me and let me rot with my ibuprofen period.