2. Mac #2
I nod, glancing at her. She smiles at me, and my stomach twists into a painful knot.
“What are you gonna do there, Finny?”
Clenching my fist inside my pocket, I ignore her question and turn back to my dad.
My name is Finn, not fucking Finny. And besides, everyone calls me Mac. She’s been around long enough to get with the program!
“Is it free?” I ask again.
“You’ll need to check with Joanna. She’s the one who sorts out the bookings for that place.” Dad’s voice is a soft rumble, and I keep staring at him, silently begging him to look at me when we talk.
I don’t even know why I want him to.
He never does.
I’m pretty sure he hasn’t looked at me since… I don’t even know when.
Has he even noticed that I had my eyebrow pierced last year? Is he aware that I scored a new scar on my chin when I clipped a brick wall after a drunken fight? Or does he just rely on Chanel telling him what’s new with his kid after I leave the fucking room!
“You having a party or something?” Chanel giggles, and I look back at her.
Marilyn Monroe. That’s who she reminds me of. I’ve seen old movies, and this stick of perfume is exactly like her. The high voice, girlish giggle, and dumb-blonde persona that my father no doubt finds sexy.
Rolling my eyes, I mutter, “Just inviting a few of my teammates. No big deal.”
I turn back to my dad and stare at him, wondering if I can somehow break him, but he just sniffs like I’ve already left the room and turns the page of his newspaper.
Glaring at him, I swallow and mutter, “Fine, I’ll call Joanna.”
I stalk out of the room, wrenching my phone free and calling Dad’s right-hand woman. I swear his world would fall apart without her. It’s a miracle she’s stuck around. It’s also a miracle he hasn’t fucked her and broken her heart. That’s probably the only reason she’s lasted so long.
“Hello, my gorgeous boy.” I don’t know how old she is now, maybe mid-sixties, but she’s got this bright, cheerful, singsong voice that makes it impossible not to smile. Even just a little bit.
“Hey, Jo.”
“What’s up?”
“I want to know when the lake house is free.”
“Let me check the diary. I know your dad offered it to a client last weekend…” She makes a clicking noise with her tongue as she obviously checks something on her computer. “Okay, it’s being used in a few days, but the weekend after that is free. You want me to block it out for you?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Got yourself a party planned?”
I smirk. “You know it.”
“Should I warn the insurance company?” She giggles.
“I’ll do my best to keep it under control.”
“Just make sure you invite Jimmy. He’ll keep you in check.”
I roll my eyes, but she’s probably right. My teammate might not keep me in check, but he’s pretty damn good at cleaning up my messes, and I love that Joanna knows that. Is it weird that my father’s PA probably knows me better than he does?
Is it weird that I feel closer to her and Alba the housekeeper, Emil the chef, Justice the chauffeur, and Yvonne the penthouse maid than I do to my own flesh and blood? Why is it that everyone who works for Dad feels more like a family member than he does?
It’s fucked-up, because housekeepers and chefs and chauffeurs and gardeners move on. They have no loyalty to me. Alba and Emil have stuck around, but Juan the gardener left last year, and it felt like a physical blow. He was the one who taught me how to play basketball.
And Justice was murmuring about Florida a few months back.
He’s the one who got me into cars a couple of years ago.
He taught me how to fucking drive! And now he’s thinking about retiring in Florida.
I’ll never see him again. And he probably won’t even think twice about the spoiled rich kid who got a shiny new car for his sixteenth birthday and couldn’t even find the words to thank his dad because the guy wasn’t fucking there to hand him the keys.
Texting Darian back, I tell him it’s on and get a quick reply.
A few minutes later, a message pops up in the Cougars’ team chat. Responses come in pretty fast, and I add up who’s gonna be there, waiting for Jimmy’s reply.
Gritting my teeth, I give him a few minutes, but he doesn’t say a word. I know he’s seen it. The guy is good about checking notifications… unless his parents have him locked into yet another obligation that’s shriveling his soul into a raisin.
I’m gonna have to call him. He’s gotta be there.
Joanna’s right. I need him to keep us all in check. He might be a year younger than me, but he’s like an old man in a twenty-year-old’s body.
Over half the team can make it, plus Charli and her friend Nix. Which means the house will be full… and once I get the word out about a party on Saturday night, the place will be pumping.
We need a few guys like Jimmy and Ben… I check the chat again, and he says he can make it. Good. He’s responsible.
If guys like that will be there, then I can relax… or get a little crazy.
I smirk, grabbing a joint from my room before slipping outside.
Alba hates it when I smoke in the house, so I plunk into a deck chair and gaze up at the darkening sky while lighting up and letting that weed work its magic.
Blowing out a cloud of smoke, I feel my muscles slowly start to uncoil and wonder if I’ll always need to do this after every interaction with my father.