“So you wasted…however fucking much money your parents spent sending you there, is what you’re saying?”
I shrug. “Sure? Not like they care. They shit money, man. Dad had money before he got rich. My trust fund is largely carried over from him. Mom came from money, too. It’s literally stupid. I have actually, literally, factually zero responsibilities. Zero expectations. Nothing to do. I may as well not even fuckingexist, Dell.” I blink as I realize what I just said. “Fuck, man. I didn’t…” I frown, wipe my face, and take a slug of fifty-year-old Glenlivet.
Dell is eying me. “Dude, do I have to worry about you?” He’s as serious as he’s capable of getting. “Because I will, If I have to.”
“No. It’s just…it’s true. My parents would be, like, sad. You’d be sad. But that’s…it.” My eyes are wide, shock shuttling through my system. “Fuck, man. It’s true. I may as well not even exist for all the effect I have on the world.”
“Dude, that’s bullshit. If you’re that worried about leaving, like, a legacy, just do what all rich people do when they decide they want to leave a legacy.”
“And that would be what?” I ask with a wry smirk.
“Start one of those charitable foundation things in your name.”
“I’m not talking about a fucking legacy, you fucking knob, I’m talking aboutpurpose.”
“Purpose.”
“Correct.”
“By which you mean purposeotherthan expensive booze and expensiver women?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Did you just say…expensiver?”
He tosses back another shot. “Yes, I did. Yes, I know it’s grammatically wrong or whatever the hell. I was being ironical.”
“Again, not what ironic means, I don’t think.”
Dell sighs heavily. “Why are we talking aboutyou, Thai?I’mthe one with a crisis, here.”
“Crisis? The thing where you have to work with your sister for six months before you inherit millions of dollars ontopof your trust fund? That crisis?”
“Sounds douchey when you put it that way.”
“Because it is douchey.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side here, Thai.” He is genuinely upset, I think.
“Iamon your side, Dell,” I say with a sigh. “But as your best friend, I feel obligated to not blow smoke up your ass.”
He’s silent a moment, staring into the depths of his scotch, then takes a sip, brow furrowed. “You think I’m the asshole, here?”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Brother, we’ve always been the assholes. I thought you knew that.”
He shrugs. “I mean, sure, in a funny way. Haha, yeah, I’m a dick, what’re you gonna do about it? But this is different.” He moves the rocks glass in small circles on the bar top, making the amber liquid swirl just beneath the rim. “Thai, I…it’s just not fuckingfair. For Delia, or me. She’s the one who wants the company, not me. She worked for it, not me. And now, instead of giving her what she wanted and what she’s worked for her whole fucking life, he wastes half of it on me. I don’t fucking want it. I don’t give a shit about construction. Maybe I do need to find something else to do with my life, but I can guaran-fucking-tee you it’s not the family business.”
I sip. “So…what are you going to do, Dell?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t…I don’t know.” He sips and hisses. More from frustration than because of the burn. “I…Thai, I’m genuinely at a loss. Can I do the work? Yeah. I’m not a dummy, you know? I’m perfectly capable. My issue has always been motivation. The problem here is I just don’t…I can’t do this. I can’t take half off the business from Delia. I don’t want it, I don’t deserve it, and I just…I won’t do it, Thai. I fuckingwon’t.”
“Then from how you explained it, you don’t get your inheritance.” I frown at him. For the first time, I realize how serious he is about this. For his sister, and not just himself.
He nods. “I know. I just don’t see a way around it.”
“You’re willing to give up…shit, I don’t even know how much it is. Thirty million dollars? Fifty?”
Dell shrugs. “I dunno. Somewhere in there. A fucking lot.”
“And you’re so dead set against working for McKenna Construction that you’re willing to forgo that much cash?”
