“I got her pregnant, Dre. I took her virginity, and I got her pregnant.” He shook his head, his lungs’ capacity seeming to shrink. “She didn’t even trust me enough now to tell me I have a kid.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Jace watched the fountain in the center of the building’s lobby get smaller and smaller as the glass elevator climbed to the top floor. The panel dinged, announcing he’d arrived, and Jace briefly considered punching the button to go right back down. He didn’t belong here anymore. He didn’t want to belong here.
But after looking at every possible scenario, including selling everything he owned, he’d come to the same damn conclusion. If he wanted to protect Evan, he had only one choice.
He stepped off the elevator and into the busy but quiet hallway. Men and women in expensive suits politely nodded at each other as they made their way in or out from their lunch break. Jace’s stomach turned.
He’d worked here for years, doing all he could to prove to everyone that he was worth something. That he could be as successful as his father. And Jace had managed to put a dent in that goal. Three years out of college, he’d been one of the top five earners in the company. And he’d been completely fucking miserable. All the slick smiles, the false handshakes, the endless small talk. Like you actually cared about your client’s golf swing.
The whole thing had been like one endless role-playing game where everyone had a script to read from and a cue to follow.
And now Jace was going to step back into that hell.
He straightened the tie he’d dug out of the back of his closet, straightened his shoulders, and headed down the hall that led to his father’s office. Might as well get it over with. A kick in the nuts wouldn’t hurt any less later.
He passed a couple of open doors, but kept his attention forward. One step in front of the other. The muffled sound of hard-soled shoes on ugly gray carpet mixing with the faint click of keyboards. Jace imagined that’s what a death march sounded like. Click. Click. Tap.
He turned to round a corner, but a voice held him up.
“Jace?”
Jace glanced behind him to find his older brother leaning out of one of the offices. Great. Just what he needed. An audience to witness his humiliation. “Hey, Wy.”
Wyatt gave Jace a head to toe once-over, a crease forming in his forehead. “What are you doing here?”
Jace pulled at the knot of his tie. “Don’t ask.”
Wyatt cocked his head toward his open doorway. “Come in here a sec.”
“Wy, I really don’t have time—”
“Come on, little brother. You’ve got time. Dad’s in a meeting.” He disappeared back into his office.
Jace shoved his hands in his pockets and followed him. Wyatt probably wanted to gloat and tell him what Jace’s assistant duties would be. Good times. He stepped into Wyatt’s posh office and sat on one of the two leather couches.
Wyatt propped a hip on the edge of his desk, evaluating Jace with cool blue eyes. “You’re here to give in to Dad.”
Just the words made Jace want to heave. Give in. To Dad. “Can we talk about something else? Don’t you have a new award or something to show off?”
“Don’t give me that shit, Jace. You know Dad’s the one who does that. Not me.” He shrugged. “I know you couldn’t care less about all this stuff or what I do.”
Jace pressed his lips together, a hint of guilt poking at him. “Hey, if this does it for you, that’s great. Honestly. I sometimes wish you’d been born after me instead of before. Trying to live up to your level of success is a bitch.”
Wyatt scoffed. “Yeah, my success. I’ve got millions in the bank and don’t have a damn second to spend any of it. Or anyone to spend it with. I’m on top of the world, little bro.”
Jace stared at him, shock stealing his words. Wyatt—wunderkind financier and golden child—wasn’t happy? Sure, Jace knew the guy didn’t date or spend a lot of time on the social scene, but he’d always figured that was how his brother preferred things.
Wyatt ran a hand through his short-cropped dark hair. “Look, just tell me what’s going on. I know if you’re coming to Dad, things must really be in the shitter.”
Jace leaned back on the couch, resigned. What did he have to lose by telling his brother? Wy would know soon enough anyway. No doubt his father would tell anyone in shouting distance how right he’d been, how his wayward son had come groveling back to him for help.
“Diana’s blackmailing me. If I don’t pay, she’s going to ruin the reputation and career of someone I care about.” He looked down at his hands. “My store is stable and I know I can grow it, but I don’t have the money to pay Diana off right now. So here I am.”
Wyatt released a whistling breath. “So you’re going to give up your dream to save someone else?”
“She’s more important than my store. I figure I can suck it up and work here again for a few years. Get your coffee and type your e-mails—whatever the hell an assistant does. Then save my cash and maybe try a business again one day.”