22 Will
SUNNY AND SEVENTY-SIX degrees made for a splendid day of golf, except I was playing like shit. Every time I missed my hole, Dad gave me a sidelong glance. What did he expect after telling me twenty-five million dollars was missing from SJIagain?
The last two months had breezed by. Between Miranda’s crazy schedule and the clusterfuck inside SJI, I was surprised I made it into March. But here I was with my dad, grandfather, and uncle Peter… and millions more missing.
During our private conversation at Christmas, my father told me he would have York do some digging. Thus far, York had come up empty-handed. Losing this kind of money needed to stop, or SJI would go under, and there was no chance in hell my grandfather would allow that.
“How’s Miranda?” Grandfather asked. The twinkle in his eye told me he really liked her. I was glad. Of all the opinions that mattered most to me, it was his and my mother’s.
“She’s fantastic. Busy, but fantastic. Since the gala, her bookings have increased by twenty-five percent. I told her she needed to hire more staff.”
“And what did she say to that?” he asked, eyeing me curiously.
“She wasn’t on board with it. She said handing over the responsibility to others just as they were making headway with the business was dangerous.”
“That’s one savvy businesswoman you’ve got there.” He gave me a thumbs-up. I figured he’d like her response.
“The only problem is she’s exhausted. She needs some R and R.”
“I hear she’s going to the spa tomorrow with your mother and Simone,” my dad said. I wasn’t sure if he really cared or if he was just making small talk as he lined up his ball to take his shot.
“Yes, she is. And I’m glad. But I doubt it’ll be enough. Are you going to grant me two weeks in May to take her to Paris?” Uncle Peter and Grandfather looked at my dad expectantly, as I did.
“Two weeks?”
“Yes, I told you right after the gala. Anything less isn’t worth going.” Again, he likely hadn’t been listening.
Satisfied with his ball’s position, Dad did his routine practice swing and then swung in perfect form. We all watched with interest as the ball sailed into the sand trap.
“Miranda is willing to leave her business that long for a vacation?” He studied me, lips pressed thin. It was a total deflection so we didn’t talk about his sucky swing.
“Not exactly, but I’m working on it.”
It would be my luck that the woman I loved had a work ethic like my old man and grandfather. She outdid me by an easy fifteen hours a week, if not more. It was fucking crazy in my book. I was sure she’d make herself sick. Somehow, I had to convince her to go on this trip with me.
“For as much as she works, how do you expect to have any kids?” We all turned toward Uncle Peter. The question was uncharacteristic of him.
“We haven’t talked about kids.” Dang, we’d only been living together for a little over two months. Kids were the furthest thing from our minds.
“But you love her, right?”
I nodded, all eyes on me.
“Then you plan to marry her?”
“I suppose…someday. Honestly, I’ve just been enjoying her. We aren’t in any rush.”
“You should be.” Grandfather’s terse response took me by surprise.
I faced him. “Is that right? Please explain.”
“Well, young William, you’re the heir of this company, and your first son will be next in line. I’m not going to live forever, and neither will your father. You need to keep the legacy going. You need an heir.”
“What the fuck? We aren’t the royal family.” I pulled out a water bottle and guzzled. The sun’s rays were blaring down on me, sweat collecting on my scalp beneath my cap.
“Donotmock this family, William,” my dad shot back. “You’re approaching thirty; you should be thinking about starting a family soon.” He hopped onto his golf cart and drove away with my grandfather.
“Can you believe this bullshit?” I turned toward Uncle Peter.