Chapter 9
CASH
The golf course was immaculate. Perfectly manicured greens, ocean views from every hole, a clubhouse that looked more like a mansion than a facility for rich men to hit small balls with sticks.
The place required a hefty membership fee.
I wasn’t aware we were members until Austin gave our name. Made sense, I supposed.
We’d drawn a small crowd of caddies and club employees who clearly recognized the Bancroft name. They were looking for the big tips.
“So,” Kent said as we approached the first tee. “Are we playing for money, or is this just for pride?”
“Pride,” Austin said immediately. “I don’t need you taking more of my money after that poker game last month.”
“You’re just a sore loser.”
“I’m a consistent loser when playing against you, which suggests cheating.”
Finn laughed, taking a practice swing.
I lined up my shot, blocking out their bickering.
The familiar ritual of golf provided a welcome mental reset after last night’s conversation with Cleo.
I needed to stop thinking about her. Needed to stop replaying the way she’d looked in the moonlight.
Mostly, I needed to stop thinking about the moment in the hallway when I’d almost kissed her.
I was blaming the alcohol.
The ball sailed straight down the fairway.
All of us had grown up on the golf course.
A couple of my brothers were probably good enough to go on the professional circuit.
Golf wasn’t something I loved, though. It was something I did because that’s what it took to schmooze businessmen.
I didn’t hate it, but I wasn’t going to be the guy with a regular tee time.
“Show-off,” Austin muttered.
We made our way down the course. The conversation flowed naturally between business and personal life. Austin couldn’t stop talking about the baby. Kent shared updates about Tiana. The dude was obsessed in the best way.
“How’s the Northwood expansion going?” I asked Kent as we waited for Finn to take his shot.
“Really good, actually. We broke ground on the new community center last month. Should be finished by fall.”
“And the Christmas tree farm?”
“Booming. Sylvie’s parents are already talking about expanding for next season. The whole town is thriving again.”
Northwood had been a calculated risk that paid off, both financially and in terms of Kent’s happiness, which indirectly benefited the family.
“Good to hear.”
Finn stepped up and absolutely crushed his drive, the ball sailing past mine by at least twenty yards.
“When did you get so good?” Austin demanded.
“I’ve been practicing.” Finn’s tone was casual, but there was something underneath it. Something he wasn’t saying.
“In LA?” I asked.
“Among other places.”
We continued playing. The conversation shifted to the wedding. Four weeks wasn’t much time, but Melody seemed to have it under control. Austin was mostly just along for the ride, agreeing to whatever she wanted.
“Smart man,” Kent observed. “That’s the secret to a happy marriage. Say ‘yes, dear’ and mean it.”
“Is that what you do?” Austin asked.
“Absolutely. Sylvie wants to expand the tree farm? Yes, dear. Wants to adopt twelve rescue dogs? Yes, dear. Wants to do the spare bedroom in cow prints—”
“Yes, dear,” we all said in unison.
I was glad he was happy. Good for him. We all had our own paths in life. Mine was business. Always had been. “So Finn, what exactly have you been doing in LA? Dad mentioned some potential partnerships out west, but he was vague on details.”
Finn’s expression shifted. It was barely perceptible, but I’d spent enough time reading people to catch it. “Just exploring some opportunities. Tech sector stuff. Meeting with potential investors.”
“Which companies?”
“Nothing concrete yet. Still in preliminary stages.”
I studied him. “If Dad knew about it, he would have told me. I handle most of the West Coast dealings.”
“It’s personal business, not Bancroft Holdings business.”
“Personal business that requires you to spend months in LA?”
Finn’s jaw tightened. “Can we not do this right now? I’m trying to enjoy a round of golf with my brothers.”
“Leave him alone, Cash. Maybe he’s got a girl out there. Or five. We don’t judge.”
Finn took his shot. The ball hooked left into the rough. “Shit.”
We moved on, but I filed the conversation away for later. Finn was hiding something. Whether it was relevant to family business or not, I’d find out eventually.
We finished the round and headed toward the clubhouse for lunch. The sun was high, and I was looking forward to air-conditioning and food. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw my father’s name on the screen.
“It’s Dad,” I told the others. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”
They headed inside while I answered. “Hello.”
“Cash.” Dad’s voice was clipped, which meant it was a business conversation and not a father checking on his kid. “I’ve secured you a chartered flight to Rome. Leaves Tuesday morning.”
My stomach sank. “Tuesday?”
“Federico Rossi has decided to exit our contract. I need you to go in person and salvage this.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, already feeling the headache forming. “Rossi isn’t the type to change his mind once it’s made up. I’ve done business with him enough times to know when he’s dug in on something.”
“Which is exactly why you’re the right person for this. You have the relationship. Use it.”
“What if my gut is telling me we should let him back out?”
There was a pause. “Your gut?”
“Rossi’s been messy lately. I’ve heard rumors about other deals going sideways. Maybe this is a situation where we cut our losses and walk away.”
“Absolutely not.” Dad’s tone left no room for argument.
“Rossi has been penalized for breaking contracts illegally in the past. I think he’s pulling the cord to save his own ass from whatever mess he’s gotten himself into.
I want you to show up strong and figure out what’s actually going on. Then we’ll decide our next move.”
“And if he refuses to cooperate?”
“Make him cooperate. That’s what you do, Cash. That’s what you’re good at.”
I gritted my teeth, staring out at the pristine golf course. “Fine. I’ll be on the plane Tuesday.”
“Good. I’ll have the details sent over within the hour. Don’t let me down on this one.” He hung up without saying goodbye.
I stood there for a moment, phone still in my hand, feeling the familiar weight of expectation settling back onto my shoulders.
One day. I’d had one day of relative peace.
My family thought I was all business all the time.
They’d never believe it wasn’t really by choice.
My father expected more out of me. My brothers were given passes.
They got to do whatever the fuck they wanted because I would always be the guy making sure shit got handled.
When Kent ran off to buy a tree farm, I fixed shit.
He got his wife and kid because I held shit together.
And Austin? I tried to help him. The Summer Situation.
Fuck. I still had to deal with that.
And now it was back to business as usual. I pocketed my phone and headed inside, where my brothers had already secured a table with a view of the eighteenth hole. They were laughing and talking. I felt a pang of something I didn’t want to examine too closely.
They were free to live their lives without checking with Dad first.
“Everything okay?” Austin asked as I sat down.
“Just Dad being Dad.” I signaled a waiter and ordered a whiskey, even though it was barely past noon. “I’m flying to Rome on Tuesday.”
“So soon?” Kent frowned.
“Yep.”
Finn leaned back in his chair, studying me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Let me guess. Another rich prick needs someone to put him in his place?”
“Something like that.”
“Who?” Kent asked.
“Federico Rossi.” I took a long sip of the whiskey the waiter had just delivered.
All three of them groaned in unison.
“That motherfucker,” Kent muttered, shaking his head. “Didn’t he try to pull this same shit with the Milan project two years ago?”
“Three years ago,” I corrected. “And yes, he did. Cost us six months and a fortune in legal fees before he finally honored the contract.”
Austin shook his head with a sympathetic expression. “That guy is a nightmare. I’m sorry you have to deal with him again.”
“He’s slippery,” Finn added.
I shrugged, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “It’s fine. Just part of the job.”
“It’s a shitty part of the job,” Kent said. “You shouldn’t have to fly halfway around the world to babysit a grown man who can’t honor his commitments.”
“Someone has to do it.” I kept my tone light, casual. Like it didn’t bother me that my weekend was about to be cut short. Like I wasn’t already mentally preparing for the headache that was Federico Rossi. “Besides, Rome in spring isn’t the worst place to be.”
“When do you get back?” Austin asked.
“Depends on how cooperative Rossi decides to be. Could be a few days. Could be a week.” I heard what he wasn’t asking. “I’ll be back in time for the wedding itself. That’s non-negotiable.”
Finn raised his beer. “To Cash, the eternal fixer of family problems.”
I didn’t miss the edge in his tone, but I chose to ignore it. Instead, I raised my glass and clinked it against his.
The waiter arrived with our food, and the conversation shifted to safer topics.
But I was only half paying attention. Part of my mind was already in Rome, strategizing how to approach Rossi.
Another part was stuck on a woman with a streak of purple hair, dark eyes, and dreams big enough to fill an ocean.
“Earth to Cash.” Austin waved a hand in front of my face. “You still with us?”
“Yeah. Just thinking about the trip.”
I pulled myself back to the present. When I reached for my glass, I noticed Finn watching. He was always one of those guys that could read people. He had a sixth sense for it. Too bad he didn’t use his powers for good.
Then maybe I could have sent him to Italy instead of me.