“Benjamin, how are you?” my dad asks when I walk into the deli to meet him and my sister for lunch. “How’s Brody?”
“He skipped school yesterday, so I’m hoping he actually stays put today.”
“He’ll be okay,” Dad says. “At his age, you were doing the same thing.”
“Yeah, because my mom killed herself, we were living in our car, and I was lashing out,” I point out. “What does he have to act out about? He has a damn good life.”
Dad flinches. “Sometimes people are going through things we don’t know about. Maybe cut him some slack.”
I’m about to ask what he means by that when the waitress walks over, interrupting our conversation to ask what we would like to drink.
“Water, please.” I don’t drink during the business day.
“Same for me,” Dad says.
“Make it three,” I tell her. “We have someone on their way.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Amalia says, rushing over. “With Valentine’s Day coming up, we’re slammed with the upcoming events.” She leans over and kisses our dad’s cheek, then mine before she sits down. “I can’t believe Valentine’s Day is—”
Her words are cut off by the sound of my phone ringing. “Give me a second. It’s the office.” I raise a single finger, halting our conversation. “Benjamin Fields.”
“Mr. Fields, it’s Owen Ross…from accounting.”
“Yes, I know who you are. Is everything okay?” While all my employees have my cell phone number, very rarely does anyone use it since, up until recently, I’m usually out of town, and they have a person of contact in the office. For Owen, it’s my dad.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of your dad, but I can’t seem to track him down. There’s an issue with—”
“Benjamin,” Dad cuts in. “Everything okay?”
“Owen’s been trying to get ahold of you.”
His brow furrows, and he extends his hand, silently asking for the phone. “Owen, I’m going to put my dad on.” I hand him the phone.
“Owen, I’ll be in this afternoon.” He pauses to listen to whatever Owen is saying. “Okay, I’ll handle it when I get back.” He hangs up and hands me back my phone. “Sorry about that. I was out of town for a few days.”
“Where’d you go?” I didn’t even realize he was gone. But then again, I’ve been so busy with Brody I don’t even know what day it is.
“It was just a quick business trip. I’ll get everything sorted this afternoon.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I pat him on his shoulder, thankful to have him on my team. For a long time, I was worried about him, afraid he would regress and go back down the dark path he spent too much time on after Mom’s death, but he’s stayed on the straight and narrow, and I’m damn proud of him.
The waitress sets our drinks down and then takes our orders.
“How’d the meeting go with the city this morning?” Amalia asks once the waitress leaves.
“Good. We got the green light to move forward.”
She squeals. “I can’t believe it’s really happening. Gerald and I owe you so much.”
“You don’t owe me anything. It’s a damn good investment. Between your love and knowledge of art and his culinary skills, it’s going to be a huge success. Besides, everything else is running smoothly, and with me here for the foreseeable future, it’s the perfect time.”
It’s taken close to fifteen years, but I’m finally at a point where it feels like all my business ventures are running like well-oiled machines. I’ll have to travel occasionally to check on them, but I’ll be able to handle everything from here for the most part. Which is good since my son needs me to be as hands-on as possible. Paola texted me last night that Ted is going out of town for business, and since Brody is with me, she’s decided to go.
“Maybe it’s time to finally settle down,” Amalia says for the millionth time.
“I already told you—” My phone rings again, and when I glance at the screen, I groan, recognizing the number. “Hello.”
“Good afternoon, I’m looking for the parent or guardian of Brody Fields.”
“This is his father, Benjamin Fields.”
“Hello, this is Dean Thomas. Your son was in a fight and has been suspended. We’re going to need you to come down so we can discuss this in person, and you can pick him up.”
“I’m on my way.” I stand, and Dad and Amalia both look at me curiously.
“Brody was in a fight and got suspended… So much for him staying at school.”
“Rise and shine.” I snag Brody’s blanket and pull it off his body.
“What the hell?” he rasps. “What time is it?”
“Quit cursing. You’re fourteen, not thirty. And it’s five thirty. Time to get up.”
“What? Why?” he whines.
“Because you’re suspended, and I don’t trust you to stay home alone.” His eyes pop open. “You’re coming to work with me. I’m going downstairs to work out. Be dressed and ready to go by seven thirty.”