Chapter 4 Have a Life
Chapter Four
HAVE A LIFE
Griffin
“Whose boots are those?” I asked, noting the pair that dared rest on my desk through the window beside my office door.
“Give you four Wild West guesses and three would be wrong.” Marianne cocked a brow. She’d been working for West Games long enough, assistant to my father first, then to me. She knew all the habits of every West brother.
“Atlas? Fuck,” I muttered, knowing there was only one brother who still stepped foot inside West Games now and then.
All of them were all-too glad to take my buyout offers and run off with the money to do whatever they damn well pleased somewhere else in the world, leaving me sole owner of the company our father had built.
Holden bought a run-down ski lodge in Steele Valley and planned to fix it up.
Beck moved to a remote mountain cabin in Montana to write the next great American novel, while working with abused horses on some rescue ranch there.
And Landon joined in with friends of his who ran a music company in Kentucky.
I became Mr. West, taking over West Games and running it better than our miserly father ever did.
“Shall I interrupt you in about half an hour so Atlas doesn’t linger?” Marianne arched a brow.
“Absolutely. But make it fifteen minutes, and call Sam to rally the troops in my office.”
I entered my sprawling corner office on the sixty-ninth floor, fit for the king of board games.
Professionally decorated, it almost outshone the luxury of my penthouse home in plush leather and exotic wood with brass and marble touches.
A very comfortable couch sat at one end, my desk at the other, and a long boardroom table in the middle.
I figured if I had to spend most of my life here, I might as well make it comfortable and worthy of my status.
My brother in his traveller-of-the-world garb didn’t quite fit in. From khaki cargo pants to denim shirt to brown leather vest with pockets everywhere, he might as well put on a safari hat and say he’d been in the depths of Africa or floating the .
“Mind removing your boots from my desk? The lacquer on the zebrawood is sensitive. And where are you resurfacing from? A jungle expedition?” I tossed the day’s Wall Street Journal on the desk as he vacated my Pininfarina luxury office chair.
Before sitting, I inspected it to make sure he had left not a single tear in the Dynatec fabric or Technogel cushioning.
Been through that with Atlas once before.
“Seattle. And hello to you too, Grif. How’s Theo?
” With his thumbs in his belt loops, he faced me.
Like looking in the mirror, we were almost twins, only eleven months apart.
When he made an effort and dressed up, the society papers often got it wrong when they spotted him out with a celebrity model or wealthy heiress, thinking it was me.
Three-quarters of my playboy reputation had more to do with the mix-up than with reality.
“He’s fine. He has a game tonight.”
“Perfect. I’d love to see him play.” He ambled over to the windows.
“What the hell is in Seattle?”
“A fishing operation I bought. Yep, you’re looking at the king of King Salmon Industries right here.
You should take some time off and come on a charter with me out to sea.
You look like you could use some fresh air.
” He visibly shivered, his shoulders shrugging.
“How can you stand to breathe this office air day-in and day-out? I must be allergic.”
I made a grand show of inhaling and exhaling. “Ah. I live for this shit.”
Marianne knocked on my door and stuck her head in. “Sorry to disturb the reunion, but Sam and the team are on their way for the briefing.”
“Send them in when they get here.”
“Good old Sam still works for you?” Atlas asked.
“Yes, and it’s a rather busy time, so…”
“That’s my cue to leave. Shortest family reunion yet. We really should do this again.” Atlas saluted me with all the sarcasm he possessed, heading for the door.
“Wait.” I sighed and massaged my forehead. “When do you head back to Seattle to run this little operation of yours?”
“Oh, I’m not running it. I bought it only so I could fish whenever I want to.
And because the father of this woman I was dating wanted out of the business.
” He scratched his neck. Just like he’d bought that hunting operation in Canada, and the helicopter touring company over the Alps.
That was Atlas, chasing adventures around the globe. Women, too.
“I’m sure that’s a tale for another time.” I rushed over to usher him out the door, hearing Sam’s team approaching down the hall.
Atlas must have thought I was coming for a hug, and he held his arms wide open. I wasn’t affectionate with my brothers, but I stood there and let him put his arms around me and pat my back twice before I backed a step.
“Mind if I crash at your place? I have some cool King Salmon gear I brought for Theo.”
“He’d love to see you, but I know you can afford a hotel suite.”
“Of course I could, but it doesn’t come with the warmth of brotherly love and an adoring nephew. Besides, I was hoping we could all take a weekend away to Steele Valley and see Holden’s skiing operation. See how much he’s in over his head with that.”
“Can’t. I’m in the middle of a huge deal. Barely have time to breathe the stale air in my office.” I smirked.
“Which means poor Theo isn’t having any fun lately.”
“‘Poor Theo’ is fine. He has a… a new nanny.”
“A hot new nanny?” He quirked a brow. My fists formed balls.
“Don’t you dare make moves on Jessa. She’s off-limits.”
“Jessa? Pretty name. Can’t wait to meet her. Will she be at Theo’s game?” He chuckled and headed toward the door once again.
“I mean it, Atlas. She’s off-limits.”
“Which means you’ve staked your claim?”
“It means I don’t have time to hire another nanny. Between you and Theo, you’ve run off more nannies than I can count. The agency put me on notice.”
“Maybe it’s a sign you should get married.”
I snorted. “I tried that once, remember? Didn’t work so well.”
“Or here’s an idea, sell off West Games. Have a life.”
Sam closed in on Atlas and heard that. “Get rid of this cash cow? Never. Go public? Hell, yes. Your brother stands to be richer than those princes in Saudi Arabia you hang out with if all goes well.”
Like Marianne, Sam had also been with West Games for years. As legal advisor, he too stood to make out well on the IPO.
Atlas glared at me as Sam and the team filed in. “When is it enough, Grif? You’re already obscenely rich. How much more do you need?”
He made me sound like some money-grabbing asshole.
But it was more than that. It was the game, appropriately so.
Our father once told me the thrill of the chase was so much better than the acquisition.
Hell, Atlas and all the West boys loved to win like it coursed through our veins.
And what lucky sons-of-a-bitches we were in business. In matters of the heart, not so much.
“Theo’s game is at five at the arena. He’d love to see you.” I slapped his back and with that, shut my door, shutting out my family, any thoughts of Jessa, and anything that might distract me from the game with the team of lawyers and advisors taking seats around my boardroom table.
Sam approached for a one-on-one while everyone got settled. “Atlas in town? Just what we don’t need, his mug in the society papers or online dating anything in a tight skirt with tits. The board is already worried about your playboy reputation.”
“You know most of that isn’t deserved.”
“It’s all about perception, though, Grif. Can you keep him in line?”
“I have it under control. Let’s get the meeting going.” I brushed past him and took my seat at the head of the table. I texted Atlas a message while my people got the projections synced with my computer to show enlarged on the screen.
Griffin: I mean it. Jessa = off-limits. I have a lot going on right now. Don’t complicate things for me.
Atlas: I’ll be a “good” boy.
I rolled my eyes because our definitions of good were worlds apart. But I couldn’t worry about him now, and thoughts of Jessa would have to wait until after hours. I had work to do.