Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TYLER
Smooth jazz filters through the speakers, and the low, warm lighting creates a relaxed atmosphere along with the quiet rumble of conversations, but it doesn’t do anything to soothe the feeling that I’m slowly suffocating.
Tugging on the collar of my shirt, I jerk my head from side to side, trying to stop my shirt from strangling me.
My dad has already scolded me for not wearing a tie, so if I undo any more buttons, there will be outrage.
The cheerful, satisfied mood I was in from waking up in Colby’s bed this morning disappeared the second I received a text from Joey, letting me know he and my parents had landed into Boston this afternoon and were on their way to their hotel.
That’s right. They couldn’t make the effort to stay in a hotel close to campus, opting for a five star in Back Bay, and requested that I make the hour-long drive to have dinner with them tonight.
A dinner I didn’t even want to have because it’s a night away from Colby, but my father refused to take no for answer.
And when I walked into the restaurant, they had barely said hello before letting me know that the private jet would be taking them back to Arizona as soon as my graduation ceremony was over. Like they couldn’t stand the thought of supporting me for more than twenty-four hours.
Then, to top off the shit-tastic reunion with my family, I hadn’t even taken a seat at the table before my dad said with a pretentious smile, “Business waits for no one, Tyler. You’ll find that out soon enough.”
A reminder that nothing has changed when it comes to Richard Beckmann: work has, and always will be, more important than his son’s existence.
I just need to get through tonight and graduation tomorrow, then I can talk to my dad and tell him that I won’t be working for his company or coming back to Arizona.
Maybe I’ll tell him just before they leave so he won’t be able to argue or cause a scene because he has a private jet waiting for him.
“What time do we need to arrive tomorrow?” Mom asks, taking a delicate sip of her wine.
“It starts at one,” I say, trying to bite back my annoyance. I’ve shared the information with them multiple times on text and via email.
“Great. I’ll arrange for our driver to drop us off just before,” Dad replies, closing the leather-bound menu. “I have a business meeting to attend in the morning, so we can come over after.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Because of course he does.
Thankfully, the waiter comes over to take our orders, and I make sure to order the most expensive steak on the menu, along with various side dishes and a light beer. I don’t usually drink at all when I’m driving, but I need something.
Even if it means I have to call Colby and pay a hundred dollars for a ride share for him to drive my car back to campus.
“Is there any need to order such an excessive amount of food, Tyler?” Mom chides with a sniff.
I glance over the table at her, furrowing my brows in confusion.
“I eat a lot,” I say slowly. “I need to because of the amount of calories I burn.”
Joey punches my bicep playfully. “You’ll have to get used to eating on the go soon, little brother. Sometimes the only time I get to eat during the day is over business luncheons.”
“That sounds like hell,” I grumble, the words leaving my tongue before I can stop them.
Joey laughs, all rich and unfazed, while Dad snaps his fingers in the air to get the waiter’s attention to order another whiskey neat.
My lips curl in disgust at his arrogance. Who the fuck does he think he is?
A muscle pops as I clench my jaw, and I unfold my napkin, placing it in my lap for something to do that isn’t calling out my dad for being a gigantic asshole.
The conversation shifts back to work, like it always does. Dad and Joey dominate the conversation, while Mom and I sit in silence. She’s watching them both with a soft smile and a fondness in her eyes that I’ve seen in Colby’s mom.
But as far as I remember, my mom has never looked at me in that way.
“My team won the Frozen Four,” I blurt out, interrupting their conversations because I’m sick of them not acknowledging something that means a lot to me.
Dad’s stern gaze drifts over to me, his expression unreadable as he picks up his whiskey and takes a sip.
Mom doesn’t say anything, her face also completely void of any emotion, and it’s only Joey’s face that lights up.
“It was great to watch,” he says exuberantly.
“Thanks. It was a great experience. We had a really strong team this year. Some of the guys are incredibly talented.”
“Glad you had fun, but it’s time to step into the real world now, Tyler. There’s no time for playing silly sports,” Dad declares in a no-bullshit tone.
I snap my mouth shut, teeth clicking as I clench my jaw to the point of pain.
And just like that, the topic is dismissed, and he goes back to talking about a deal they’re working on.
Picking up my beer, I take a greedy gulp and look at the other tables, wondering if I can join them for dinner instead.
I don’t know what I was expecting. A hint of praise? To hear that my parents are proud of my accomplishments? It’s never been something they’ve done before, so I’m a fool for thinking they would do it now.
Dinner is served, and I eat in silence, ignoring my mother’s disapproving stare as I finish each dish like I’m starving.
Maybe if I disappoint them enough, they’ll leave and forget all about how I’m supposed to head back to Arizona and follow my dad’s orders like a good, obedient son.
Once the table is cleared, Dad clears his throat, demanding attention.
Reluctantly, I drag my attention away from looking at anything but my family and pin him with a “what?” look.
“I’ve booked for your things to be collected at 10:00 a.m. on Monday, then a car will pick you up at eleven thirty to take you to Boston Logan. Nina has emailed you your flight information and boarding pass,” Dad announces.
Suddenly, the noise of the restaurant becomes muffled, like I’ve been dunked underwater. I blink at my dad, my brain scrambling to make sense of what he’s just said.
“But I haven’t started packing yet?”
“What? Why not?” he barks.
“Because I was going to do it after graduation…” I say, trying to stop my voice from shaking as my heart tries to claw into my throat. “I still need to say goodbye to my friends… Pick up my gear from Coach Vaughn.”
He makes a sound of disbelief, and his face turns slightly red in frustration.
“There’s no time to waste, Tyler. I’ve arranged for your first client meeting at 10:00 a.m. Tuesday morning. It will look incredibly unprofessional to postpone your first meeting with a client.”
My mouth opens and closes several times, but words are a lost cause on me. The air in the restaurant is thinning out, like we’re running out of oxygen and we’re going to suffocate in these four walls.
Un-fucking-believable.
This is the first time I’ve seen him in almost a year because I didn’t go back home for Thanksgiving or Christmas as we had games, and he’s already trying to steamroll his way into controlling my life again.
No easing me in or giving me time to learn the ropes.
No acknowledgment of the fact that I’ve spent four years living in a different state for college.
He expects me to just drop everything whenever he says so. Like I haven’t built a life of my own.
Scraping my chair back, I toss my napkin on the table and mumble, “Excuse me.”
With a choked breath, I round the table and head toward the exit, needing a minute to try and calm down before I lose my shit in the middle of this fancy restaurant. My pulse thunders, a rapid beat that would make me worry I was having a heart attack if I weren’t in the presence of my dad.
He makes my blood boil, and I hate the effect he has on me.
Pushing open the door, I step out onto the street. People walk by, enjoying the warm, clear night, completely unaware that my world is closing in. Taking a few steps down the sidewalk, I lean against a brick wall and close my eyes, trying to regulate my breathing.
Ever since I was a kid, he’s always had the ability to make me feel small and insignificant, whether it was the tone of his voice or the harsh, cold words he said to put me in my place.
The only reason I got to play hockey was because Piper’s mom caused a scene in the playground when I was in first grade, and my mom couldn’t bear the thought of people thinking badly of them.
They didn’t want to me excel at the sport; they wanted to put up appearances that we’re this happy, abundant family.
But the only thing we have in abundance is apathy and a lack of appreciation for each other.
I knew it was going to be difficult because my dad isn’t the easiest person to have a conversation with, but I stupidly thought he would be warmer toward me, considering I’m about to graduate with a major he wanted to me to pick.
I naively thought he would give me the chance to be his son first before I became his employee.
And a sad, hopeful part of me thought I could get some time with him, here or at back home, and talk to him to try and get him to understand why working for him isn’t the right choice for me. But the knot in my gut is screaming that will never happen.
Because I guess this has been his plan all along.
Joey is the heir to his fortune, and I need to accept my place as the spare part.
The sound of hard leather shoes clicking against the sidewalk has my eyes opening, and I turn my head to see Joey approaching. His brows are creased in a frown, hands tucked into the pockets of his dress pants.
Feeling myself start to get annoyed again, I avert my gaze to glare at the cars passing by.
“Are you alright?” Joey asks.
“Yeah, fine,” I bite out.
He moves to stand next to me against the wall, letting the silence pass between us as the sounds of sirens and car horns filter through the air.
“He means well, you know,” he says quietly.
I huff out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, sure he does. That guy doesn’t give a shit about me. He just wants to control my life.”
“He’s not doing that.”
Without a word, I roll my eyes toward the sky, clenching my jaw as I shake my head.
Joey doesn’t see it because he’s always wanted to follow in our father’s footsteps. He doesn’t see the invisible prison I’m in because he’s exactly where he wants to be.
“I’m proud of you, Tyler. I hope you know that,” Joey says, his voice slightly choked up.
Opening my eyes, I turn to face him with a frown. “No, I don’t know. The only time I’ve ever heard it from you was when you texted me when we advanced to the Frozen Four, then again when we won. I’ve only heard you say those words twice in twenty-two years, Joey.”
Sighing, Joey drops his gaze, almost like he’s disappointed in himself. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you doubt how much I care for you, Tyler. I should’ve told you more, because I am proud of you.”
I’ve wanted to hear those words more than he’ll ever understand, but I’m unable to speak as the backs of my eyes sting.
“I’ve been so excited for us to work together, taking over the business like we used to talk about when we were kids.” He lifts his head, and his face takes on a wistful expression. “Have a mini fridge full of candy bars and a pinball machine in the staff lounge.”
My throat burns as I take a deep inhale through my nose. “That was your dream, Joey, I never said it was mine.”
“I know,” he says so quietly it’s almost drowned out by the sound of the cars speeding by. “I know he’s a tyrant sometimes, but I hope you’ll consider it. For me. I want to make up for the years I wasn’t the brother you deserved.”
“But what if I don’t?” I ask, my voice cracking. “What if I want to do something else?”
Joey’s smile is sad, and I can see the anguish in his eyes. “Then I’ll support you in any way I can.”
Snapping my head to stare out into the road again, I swallow the sharp lump in my throat.
Maybe Joey will be the one who could get through to my dad. It’s no secret he’s the favorite son, so there’s a better chance of him listening to Joey than me.
Plus, without my dad, I don’t have anything. I don’t have any savings or any way to pay for bills or rent. He’s paid for my tuition and pays off my credit card every month.
And if I go with Colby, I can’t rely on him to pay for everything while I find a job. Who knows how long it could take, especially if he ends up in Canada and I need to get a visa. He needs to focus on his upcoming rookie season, not worrying about me.
No matter what I do, I’m trapped in an uncomfortable situation, and I don’t see an easy way out.