My father cared about all our properties in our billion-dollar holding company, but this was his crown jewel. Maybe because it was the place he called home for most of the year. Perhaps because it was the resort that got the most press. The reason didn’t really matter; what did was that he cared about it far more than his remaining children.
I pulled to a stop in front of the massive private lodge. It nestled into its surroundings nicely, even if it was over the top. I stared at it for a moment, trying to connect to that feeling of home. But sometime over the past decade, that feeling had slipped away.
Forcing myself to turn off the engine, I slid out of my SUV. Gabe’s sleek Maserati was already here. Why he needed to drive it when he lived next door was beyond me.
I crossed the circular drive and walked up the stone steps, pausing for a moment. I had the sudden urge to ring the doorbell as if this weren’t the home I’d spent my entire childhood in.
Instead, I pressed down on the latch and opened the door. As I stepped inside, I paused to listen. The faint sound of voices came from the living room. I walked in that direction.
I found my father and brother sitting on leather club chairs on either side of the massive stone fireplace, each with a glass of scotch in their hands. My dad looked up. “Took you long enough.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I was coming home from a SAR meeting.”
He scoffed. “What a waste of time.”
Gabe grinned as if every insult cast in my direction was a point for him in the make-believe game he had going on in his head.
“Get a scotch,” Dad commanded.
“I’m good,” I said, taking a seat on one of the sofas. They were hard as stone but had some architecturally significant style.
Dad rolled his eyes. “Such a delicate flower.”
My back teeth ground together.Better than a drunk who let alcohol fuel his temper.I’d enjoyed my share of beer but never more than one, and had a glass of wine occasionally, but I never touched the hard stuff. I’d seen it ignite the cruelty in my father and wasn’t about to let that out in myself.
Gabe swirled the scotch around in his glass and then took a long sip.
My dad leaned back in his chair, taking us in. “It’s time for you both to stop pissing around.”
I stiffened. I’d gone to work for our family’s company the moment I graduated college. A school he’d been adamant about me attending. The same one that he and Gabe had gone to, along with my grandfather on my mother’s side. I’d given everything to the company. I’d gone wherever my father asked without argument.
From London to Dubai to Singapore before finally landing in New York. I hadn’t complained about leaving my friends behind in Cedar Ridge or only getting to see Mom a handful of times a year. But for him, it was never enough.
Gabe’s eyes flashed with his telltale temper, but he kept it in check. “Tell us what you need.”
Dad traced the rim of his glass with his forefinger, his gaze zeroing in on my older brother. “I thought I could trust you to handle operations at The Peaks.”
Gabe’s hand tightened on his glass, his knuckles bleaching white. “I have. We’ve made a greater profit this year than last.”
“That profit will go in the toilet whenLuxury Travel’s issue releases next month.”
I braced, the muscles along my spine tensing. It didn’t matter how much these best-of lists influenced actual dollars; my father was obsessed with being at the top of them.
Gabe straightened. “What do you mean? That reporter loved The Peaks. I had him drowning in caviar and champagne for his entire visit.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Travel and relaxation weren’t always about the stuffy amenities. People needed the heart of a place, too. Somewhere they could connect with family and loved ones or get away for a bit of peace in a hectic world.
“There was obviouslysomethingLewis wasn’t happy with because word is that he put us at number three on the list.”
Gabe swallowed. “Maybe the other resorts slipped him a bribe.”
Dad scoffed. “Don’t blame others for your failures. I’ve invited him back for the gala and a longer stay in a few weeks. Hopefully, we can sway him before they go to print. In the meantime, Caden will assess the property and see how it might be lacking compared to our others.”
I wanted to curse, get up and walk out of here, and never look back. My dad knew what he was doing, pitting Gabe and me against each other. He thought it made us both stronger and the hotels better. In reality, all it did was break our family apart.
Even worse, he was tying it all up in the gala. The one event I actually gave a damn about. Because it raised funds for The Clara Foundation.
My mother had started it not long after my little sister passed, hoping it would help her heal. But it had become something we’d shared over the years. An organization that raised money for childhood cancer research. It was our way of doing what we could to help. We couldn’t change our outcome, but maybe we could help other families. My father just saw it as an excuse to hobnob with his wealthy associates.
