“For weeks at a time? And without a definite end date? It’s never happened before.” Ethan paused. “You’re okay, right?”
“What else could I be?” My wife wants to leave with my baby, and I have less than three months left to convince her to stay.
When she clung to him in passion every night, he could almost believe he would be able to change her mind, that she knew how much he treasured her. Women like Amandine didn’t quiver in desire at just any man’s touch. She had to feel something for him. The question was: was sex, however good, enough to sustain their marriage?
He didn’t dump it on his older brother. Ethan had more than enough on his plate already.
“What was in the package?” Gavin asked. “It must be important.”
“It is, which is why I sent it to your office. That’s the only way I can be sure you’ll get it.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad at checking the home mail.”
“Yeah, if you’re ever at home. I’m calling a meeting with The Lloyds Development’s board of directors,” Ethan said. “There are some things we have to discuss. Publicly. About The Lloyds Development’s financials.”
Gavin scowled. If his older brother felt the need to call a board meeting, then the situation must be pretty serious. “Let me guess. Jacob fucked up.”
“Basically.”
“How bad?”
“Well…‘Uncle Tony may have to give up his new yacht’ bad.”
“You gotta be kidding.”
The Betsy Doll was Tony’s latest love. Ever since his doctor put him on a horrific deprivation diet and forbade him from eating the bacon, sausages and other rich food that had nearly destroyed his heart, Tony had decided he’d make up for the loss by spending as much money as possible on all sorts of frivolous crap. It was fine when Tony was flush from the quarterly payments from The Lloyds Development. But if the cash dried up, he was screwed. He didn’t have any other source of income and was too old to rejoin the workforce, not that there were jobs around that would pay him enough to maintain his current level of consumption. Gavin didn’t have to be his uncle’s accountant to know he was heavily leveraged and most likely overextended.
Then there were the others in the family. Some had separate income streams, but many did not. They weren’t as leveraged as Tony, but it’d hurt to lose the money coming in from The Lloyds Development.
A first-world problem, but a problem nonetheless.
“Anyway, the meeting’s going to be in Houston,” Ethan said. “We can talk more later, but check your email for the deets.”
“Will do. By the way, has Pattington managed to locate Jacob?” Pattington headed the PI firm the Lloyds had on retainer. He was the only one discreet enough to handle the matter with the delicacy that the family expected.
“Nope. Nothing yet.”
“Have you ever thought about hiring other firms?”
“What would be the point? If Pattington can’t find him, nobody can.”
Gavin sighed. That was probably true enough.
“Gotta go. I have a meeting. See you in Houston.”
Gavin rubbed his temples. God damn it. A private family disgrace apparently wasn’t enough. He couldn’t tell which was going to be worse, the scandal involving the bigamy or the fallout from the poorly run family business. Either was humiliating enough, but both together? Exponentially so.
He should get ready to go back to the States, look into the funds he was setting up for the family. It had been on his agenda, though not at the very top of his priorities given the situation with Amandine.
But he should move things along faster. Why should Uncle Tony have to give up his lifestyle? Gavin considered his own bulging bank account. Nobody from the family would suffer any more than they had to because of Jacob’s mistakes.
* * *
Amandine drew back from the canvas, studying her work with satisfaction. Flecks of gold, orange and red and every other shade in between mixed with multiple shades of blue. The latter was inspired specifically by the gorgeous Andaman Sea. She’d never realized how ever-changing the color of an ocean could be until she and Gavin had come to the family vacation home.
Yawning, she stretched. Fatigue weighed on her body, and her head seemed as sluggish as a cold engine. How crazy was that? She’d slept over nine hours the night before. Painting always energized her, but apparently pregnancy hormones trumped everything now. Maybe after a light snack and a short nap she’d be able to get back to the canvas with more enthusiasm.
“New?”