4. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Harvey
“Harvey, let’s go again,” my latest hookup says, her voice high-pitched and echoing off the walls of her dimly lit bedroom.
“Maybe another time.”
“Baby, come on,” she purrs. Baby? I’m older than her… The nickname is making my dick soft. I clearly drank way too much. Work has been a nightmare lately, and I thought I needed a release.
We met earlier at a bar, and I left my friends, Eriq and Gabino, to take her home.
Technically, not my home, because I don’t let anyone come to my place, especially not a hookup. So we’re at hers, while her roommates are still out partying. As soon as I came in, I noticed her room was a mess. Everything is in shades of pink, including the bedsheets we’re on. Make-up is scattered across the vanity, and clothes are thrown everywhere…draped over chairs, piles on the floor, and spilling out of drawers.
“One more round,” she begs, her voice like nails on a chalkboard.
Fuck me. I need to get the fuck out of here, and fast.
I stare up at the cracked ceiling. I’ll get up and get the hell out of here as soon as the room stops spinning.
Her hand wraps around my middle, and she snuggles into me, her naked body pressing against my side. Her skin is warm and slightly sweaty. The smell of my alcohol and her cheap perfume fills the air, making my stomach turn.
“Feel better?” I ask, not because I care, but because it’s the right thing to do.
“Yeah, that was amazing. You're amazing,” she purrs, her heavy lashes fluttering against her cheeks.
“Thanks.” I make the mistake of looking at her again. She’s staring at me, clearly waiting for me to say something nice. I force myself to say the next few words. “You were great.” The words taste bitter. That’s what I get for lying.
“Did you want to lie on the couch?” she asks, her expression hopeful.
I’m about to say maybe, but then she adds, “Also, are you free tomorrow? Maybe you could meet my parents.”
Is she fucking kidding?
I barely know her. She doesn’t know a single thing about me, other than I work in an office because I was wearing a suit. At the bar, our conversation was me asking, “What’s your name?” and her offering, “Let's get out of here.”
She was perfect for a night of distraction. A quick fuck to help relieve some stress, and then I can walk away. But now she’s giving me stage-five-clinger vibes, so I need to rush out of here quicker than normal.
“Sorry, I’m busy.” I get out of bed and grab my clothes. This time, I don’t lie. I need to see my dad about my inheritance tomorrow. I didn’t want help starting my business, but now I have my heart set on growing. One taste of entrepreneurship has me thirsty for more.
I pull on my pants and shirt, making quick work of my buttons. Her eyes follow my movements as she whines. “Can’t you stay for a little longer?”
I don’t look back as I head for the door, “Maybe some other time,” I say over my shoulder, not bothering to wait for her response. I need to get out of here and get some sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll get back to focusing on my future.
It’s Monday morning and I’m looking for my father. When I get to my parents’ place, Mom tells me he’s at Gram’s.
They live around the corner from her since she lives alone and is battling breast cancer. You wouldn’t know it though because she doesn’t act differently, and if you dared to show her sympathy, she’d tell you off.
Dad spends a lot of time with her, especially since Grams is his mom. He and I are close, but not as close as he is with my older brother, Evan. I often feel like I have to prove myself even more because of it. Being the youngest means my family sees me as the kid who needs to grow up.
I step into Grams’s living room, which is quiet, and spot him lounging on the sofa by himself. “Where’s Grams?” I ask, scanning the room for her familiar figure.
Dad’s head lifts from the TV show he’s watching, revealing the aging and tired lines on his face. “She went to take a nap.”
I nod and settle onto the opposite sofa. The cushions sag under the weight of me.
“What brings you here?” he asks, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies me. I can tell he’s wondering why I’m not at the office.
I adjust the tie around my neck, the fabric suddenly feeling too tight. I loosen it with a tug to try to ease the pressure, then I pull a folder from my briefcase. “I need to talk to you about my inheritance.”
Dad shifts, leaning forward on the edge of the sofa. Setting the TV remote down, he gives me his full attention. “What about it?”
“How can I access it?”
His eyebrows pinch, and he leans back, crossing his arms. “What’s changed your mind?”
“I’m happy with where my acquisitions business is, but I want to start a new company.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What kind of company?”
“A consulting firm.” I hand him the folder, which contains a detailed business plan, market analysis, and projections.
The corners of my dad's lips move, but he holds back from grinning as he flips through the pages. The little bit of a smile means he approves.
“And why would you need the money?”
“I want to keep my current assets intact for the acquisitions to keep growing. But expanding to include a firm will need its own building and staff.”
He nods thoughtfully, his gaze steady. “I like the idea.”
“So, I can have my inheritance?”
“I’m not going to hand it over without seeing that you deserve it,” he says firmly. “Evan worked with me for years before he got his share. Oliver was the same with your mom, and Jeremy donated it to the hospital for taking care of Nova.”
I run my hand through my hair, pushing it out of my face. “What do I need to do to prove myself?”
Leaning back, Dad rubs his jaw in thought. The silence stretches, broken only by the soft hum of the TV in the background. I watch as his gaze drifts to the papers.
“I want to help you,” he finally says. “But I need to be sure you’re ready.”
“I am,” I insist, sitting forward.
With his eyes narrowed, he taps his index finger on the armrest. “You know, when I started out, it wasn’t easy. I had to take risks, make sacrifices. It wasn’t just about money; it was about strategy and grit.”
I nod, sensing where this is going, but wait for him to continue.
“You want your inheritance?” he asks, his voice firm now. “Here’s what I propose.” A slow smile forms on his face as he pauses again. “Take a failing business and turn it around by your thirty-fifth birthday.”
I blink, processing the challenge. Six months. That sounds easy enough… But before I can let his words sink in, he continues.
“But no cash injections,” he adds. “Work with what’s there. Get your hands dirty. Understand the day-to-day.”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “And if I fail?”
“You can try again,” he says. “When you turn forty.”
Forty. That feels like a lifetime away.
“Your brothers are successful. I know you're smart, and I want you to understand what it was like for me when I started. It’s tough, and without money, it’s even rougher.”
“Can I choose any business to help?”
“How about one you’ve been pitching to acquire anyway?” Dad suggests.
I mentally go through the list of businesses I’ve been considering for acquisition, the names and details flashing through my mind. Which one could I help save instead?
“One that you don’t really want,” he adds.
I tap my chin, thinking of the businesses I’m struggling to acquire. “Like an event planning business?”
“Perfect!”
I think about the woman who owns it. Jemima. Her avoidance of my calls makes it clear she won’t sell me the business.
But this plan gives me what I want, and I can offer her what she needs.
I rub my hands together. It will be a challenge to get her to agree…but surely, she’ll take the help. I won’t stop until she does.
“Keep me updated.”
I sense he wants to keep tabs on me.
Maybe due to a lack of trust, or just to ensure I follow his rules. The pressure of it weighs on me like I’m constantly living under the shadow of his expectations, having to prove myself. It’s frustrating, but I’ve learned to accept it, for now.
“Do you want to watch the basketball game with me?” he asks, shifting on the sofa.
“I’ll watch the first quarter, but then I need to get to work. I’ve got a business to save.”
Dad chuckles. “Your cocky attitude reminds me of myself. I was the same at your age; nothing would stand in my way.”
I grin at that piece of knowledge. It feels like a small but significant shift in how I see my dad. Until now, I’ve always viewed him through the lens of his success, thinking I could never quite measure up. But in this moment, it’s like he’s seeing me in the same light he once saw himself in. Hungry and driven.
He grabs the remote and changes the channel, and I ease back into the sofa. We don’t usually spend time together like this, but since he retired and handed over Lincoln Media to Evan so he could travel with Mom and care for Grams, our relationship is shifting for the better.
I look over at him. I’m glad I came today. I can’t wait to show him how I transform Recaredo Events. I imagine how proud he’ll feel, knowing I’ve earned my inheritance through hard work.