LITMIR.BIZ

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holiday party. The internal space didn’t have a window or any witnesses, which Lowell assumed was the point. Brandon always did have a sense of the dramatic.

      Since arriving, Brandon had stood in the corner of the party room huddled with his mother. Together they’d nearly blended into the Christmas tree. They certainly hadn’t mingled or helped with any of the necessary social niceties of this type of event. Hell, getting them to even show up to present a united family front had taken a threat from him.

      Never mind the pressure he was under. Never mind the threats against his life.

      Lowell blamed his wife for the untenable situation. Despite all his efforts, she’d raised a spoiled and oversensitive heir who frequently ran low on common sense. She’d had one task in her entire adult life—parenting a son—and she’d blown it as she did everything else.

      Oh, Lowell had tried to step in, but attempts to toughen Brandon up had backfired. An overpriced therapist and a coddling mother undermined every tiny shuffle forward. Which was why Brandon failed at everything he tried.

      Wanting this part of the evening over so that he could concentrate on some more interesting entertainment, Lowell agreed to listen. He walked to the small conference room table in the center of the room and leaned against it with his arms folded across his chest. The stance said make it quick and Brandon had better comply.

      “What is so important?” Lowell’s disinterested exhale skipped across the room.

      “How could you bring her here?” Brandon’s blue eyes flashed with fire as his hands clenched and unclenched beside him.

      So dramatic. “First, lower your voice. I am your father and I will have your respect. We both know I’ve earned it.”

      “Mother left.”

      Ah, yes. Sonya, the original drama queen. “When?”

      “Do you even care?”

      “She promised she would be here.” Not that Lowell minded at this point. She’d come in, posed for a photo and hadn’t caused a scene. These days that was as good as he could expect from Sonya. Probably meant she was overmedicating again.

      Besides, with her gone he was not obligated to play the role of dutiful husband. That game wore thin fast, as did her crying jags.

      “She got in the car five minutes ago. You didn’t even see her leave the room.” Brandon’s chest rose and fell on heavy breaths.

      Much more of this and the boy would whip himself into a full-fledged rage. Lowell was not in the mood for the useless burst of emotion.

      “She was humiliated. You set her up to be a joke.” Brandon took a step forward, actually looked as if he might lunge.

      Lowell’s scowl stopped the attempt, but he suspected stopping the nonsense would take a bit longer. “I have expended a great deal of money on private school, tutors and college to teach you manners. You’ve had a DUI disappear. Your college trouble with a forged paper went away without you ever stepping in front of a disciplinary board.”

      “I didn’t ask for any of that.”

      “Now would be a good time to show some gratitude for all this family has done for you.” The need to lecture never stopped. Brandon was determined to tarnish the family name, and Lowell had grown weary of the childish outbursts.

      “I am twenty-three.”

      “Then stop acting like a petulant child.” Lowell glanced at his watch. The five minutes he’d allotted for this sideshow was almost over.

      Brandon either missed the not-so-subtle message or ignored it. “You put your wife and your mistress in the same room.”

      Heat raced through Lowell’s veins. “That’s enough.”

      “She was fidgeting and couldn’t hold her head up.” Brandon took to the topic now. His face flushed and his hands flew through the air as he talked. “What did you think would happen? Everyone was whispering. It’s bad enough you do that behind Mom’s back, while you’re sleeping around at the office, but to have it thrown in her face—”

      “I said enough.” The boy just kept pushing. All that festering disappointment at who Brandon had become rushed up, threatening to explode.

      But Lowell refused to give Brandon that satisfaction. As a boy he’d tried to goad and inflame. Everything would settle down in Lowell’s life with Sonya, and then Brandon would create some new problem, cause some new conflict that had to be solved and send the family spinning again. Lowell was done feeding that particular monster.

      “This is not your business, Brandon.”

      “She’s my mother.”

      “And my wife. I will deal with her. I am sure this was nothing more than the onset of one of her usual headaches.” Only his wife would view living with every luxury in a three-story museum of a house she decorated herself as some sort of prison.

      “I told her to go home.”

      The boy never stopped. “What is your game here, Brandon? Still running to Mommy when Daddy won’t let you get your way? I didn’t say yes to you last week, so you are using your mother and her weaknesses to your advantage.”

      “I asked you for a simple job.” Brandon’s breathing had kicked up until every part of his body vibrated as he talked.

      “And I told you no. I don’t engage in nepotism. I earned my way and you can, too. Frankly, it’s long past time you grew up.” Lowell was not going to relive this conversation. He’d made his decision. He took two steps toward the door in a silent declaration that the conversation had ended.

      “That is why I asked for the job.”

      He stopped and glanced at the young man he’d once hoped would followed him into the family business, and realized that dream had died long ago. “No, you asked because you’ve burned every other bridge. You lost your first job out of college because you were ignorant. I told you never to use your real name on the internet. You should have listened to me, but you didn’t. Well, Brandon, lesson learned.”

      “I know the only one you like to help around here is Angie—”

      “You will refer to her as Ms. Troutman and you will be respectful. She is a trusted member of my team.”

      Brandon laughed. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”

      Behind the tough talk Lowell saw his son’s wariness. Realizing this was all false bravado stopped Lowell from kicking the kid out. “If you are trying to convince me you’re growing up, you are failing miserably.”

      After a light knock, the door opened. Security chief Palmer Trask slipped inside, his eyes going between the two men. “Excuse me, sir.”

      “Come in.” Lowell waved him in, more than happy to end the family discussion. “Brandon and I are done talking.”

      Palmer nodded. “Yes, sir.”

      “Where have you been? And while you’re at it, explain why all the so-called security professionals to whom I pay huge fees can’t seem to be bothered to actually protect anything or anyone.”

      “Sir, we have a problem.”

      “I believe that was my point.”

      Palmer cleared his voice. “There may be an issue that requires some delicacy.”

      Since Brandon just stood there, Lowell decided the best recourse was to talk around him. “Pretend he’s not here and be more specific.”

      Palmer linked his fingers behind his back and rocked back on his heels. “I haven’t seen McBain or his second-in-command in quite some time. They went upstairs to check on an issue and I’ve lost radio communication. He has a cell, but I can’t get through.”

      From his dealings with McBain, Lowell

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