Although his question is annoying, it’s an honor since I know that I’m one of the few things in the world that my brother gives two fucks about.
“I’m fine. We decided this is the best way so we’ll stick to the plan.”
Zack doesn’t look convinced, which just serves to remind me of all the things that I’ve been trying to forget all week. That I’m breaking a promise I made to myself years ago. That what I’m about to do is unethical, possibly even illegal, and most importantly, just wrong.
But knowing that I should feel guilty for what I'm about to do doesn't change anything. Neither does the very real possibility of failure. I'm about to pull my first con in years and I'm excited.
After all, it’s not every day you pull a job on your own father.
We enter the elevator and I’m glad there’s no one else getting on. I need a few moments of peace before I have to turn it “on.” That’s how I think of it. Like a game. Manipulating people into doing what you want — whether it’s to give you money, access or information— is about making them feel that you’re on their side. That you’re their friend. It’s completely mental. It’s a rush but it’s also exhausting and requires one hundred percent of my concentration and focus. And what we’re doing today is too important for me to risk screwing up because I’m shredded with second thoughts and guilt.
My father has come back into our lives offering money and apologies but very little in the way of explanations. Nothing to explain why he left our mothers pregnant and alone and nothing to explain why he hasn’t contacted us before. For a little while it’s been like a dream come true but I’m too cynical to believe that anything is free.
Maxwell Marshall has his reasons for coming back into our lives now and I plan to find out what they are.
“Do you have time to help me with an engine rebuild later today?”
Zack apparently doesn’t share my need for self-reflection. The sides of his hair have grown in a little and the top is spiked up into a little mini-hawk. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt so all his ink is exposed. Our reflection in the mirrored elevator doors is pretty amusing. He looks like he’s on the verge of committing a felony and I look like I’m on the way to a business meeting.
How deceiving appearances can be.
“I don’t have time today. Maybe tomorrow?”
Zack makes a face. “On a Friday night? Aren’t you going to be busy?”
I don’t look up but I can sense his scrutiny. “No.”
“What happened to Gabriella? The two of you were so cute together. Even your names were cute.”
I snort as the elevator opens on the top floor with a tinny ding. Zack never liked Gabriella. Not that it mattered since I wasn't inviting her over for family dinners.
“We parted amicably.”
He shrugs and follows me down the hall. “Which means she begged you to stay and you convinced her the whole breakup was her idea, right?”
Gabriella was a way to pass the time and I suspect I was the same for her. There were no tears when we broke up. She just seemed more annoyed that she would have to find someone else for the occasional night of dinner and uncomplicated sex. I suspect she was more upset about the disruption to her schedule than she was about the possibility of not seeing me again.
Zack knocks on the door of my father’s suite before I have a chance to. I don’t bother giving him an answer and he doesn’t look like he’s expecting one anyway. Probably because he already knows he’s right.
Sometimes I hate that he knows me so well.
There’s movement behind the door, a soft shuffling and then the sound of voices. The door opens and Carol, one of my father’s many assistants, stands in the doorway. She’s a pretty young redhead with soft blue eyes and a perky ass. My father has managed to surround himself with beautiful women even in his retirement. He particularly seems to like redheads.
Carol stands back so we can enter. “Zack. Gabe. Your father is expecting you. Please come in.”
“Last chance to back out,” Zack murmurs.
He glances back at me and I nod. He looks vaguely disappointed but then he turns back and steps across the threshold. Carol smiles at him absently but when her eyes meet mine, she blushes slightly and looks away. I sigh.
The game is on.
* * * * *
When we enter the room, Max turns toward us. If he’s surprised to see that Zack is with me, he doesn’t let on. Part of our unholy deal with our newly found billionaire pops is that we each have to visit him for an hour each week. Zack has already been to see him at his usual time yesterday. My brother is here today for a different purpose.
Today, he’s the distraction.
“Hey Max. Taken over the world yet?”