35. Nate
“Ifail to see the issue, Nathaniel.”
My father sits in his suite, a tumbler of bourbon in hand. His salt-and-pepper hair, short on the sides and smoothed back along the top, is perfectly styled. He attended exactly two sessions of the Summit that day–Greenstar’s and Solum’s–before busying himself with other Paris-based clients.
“You can’t be serious.”
He gives me a hard look, straightening the lapel of his red and black smoking jacket. “I saw you sitting with your sister. Is she the one filling your head with ridiculous notions?”
“This has nothing to do with Lex.”
His gaze narrows. “Alexandra chose this distance between us. She chose to leave the family, and she’s eager to tear us down. You’re a fool if you listen to a word she says.”
Two years ago, I would have agreed with him. I’d never understood why Lex ran away from our family, from everything our father offered her. She’d seemed like a spoiled little princess who threw a fit when she didn’t get what she wanted. At least, that was how our dear father referred to her. And I lapped it right up.
“Again, she’s immaterial to this conversation.”
Reginald huffs. “Oh, she’s immaterial alright.”
Frustration flares. For years, I’d gone along with his critical narrative. When I moved to the Bay to open PL, I relished the opportunity to put ‘Alexandra’ in her place. I wanted to flaunt my knowledge, my professional success. But my sister, with her thriving business and immaculate reputation, thwarted me at every turn.
She never once displayed any of the negative traits my father so vehemently extolled, no matter how intently I watched for them. The Lex I’d met at galas, during business dinners, and through industry happy hours was poised. She was elegant, smart, and so well-respected it almost felt like a personal joke. As though her meteoric rise to the upper echelon of Bay society was something she’d accomplished solely to fuck with me.
“What are you so worried about, Nathaniel?” Reginald’s shrewd gaze assesses me, measures me, and–no doubt–finds me wanting. He always does. “Are you going soft on me?”
“We can’t move forward with the contract with the State. If there’s anything the Solum Technologies presentation proved, it’s that Greenstar’s product is flawed.”
“So theirs was a bit more sophisticated. What of it? We got to the State first. The contract is signed. It would be more than foolhardy to renege now. It would be ruinous.”
“Were you listening?” I press, incredulous.
“To what?”
“Declan Wilde, the CEO of Solum.”
He takes a long drink of his bourbon. “I heard enough.”
“Father, their product failed extreme condition tests as recently as three months ago. That’s after Greenstar Labs acquired Anne-Marie’s technology.”
“How are these things related?” he sighs, as though the conversation is beneath him.
I yell in frustration. “Because they’re the same! Anne-Marie’s tech and their tech are the same!”
“Calm yourself, boy,” he snarls. “Don’t you raise your voice at me.”
Scoffing, I grab a tumbler and aggressively splash bourbon into it. His hypocrisy is rich. He’d ripped into me far more severely too many times to count.
“Anne-Marie stole the tech from the team at Solum before Greenstar bought it. It’s flawed.”
“I’ve seen the reports. Everything looks to be in order.”
I turn to him, eyebrows raised. “You’ve seen the reports?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m on Greenstar’s board. They’re not a PL client. Where did you even get access?”
He sniffs. “Don’t question me, boy. I have my ways.”
I rack my brain, trying to connect the dots. My father is, and always has been, overly involved in every move I make at PL. Part of the reason I was so keen to join Greenstar’s board was the opportunity to do something on my own.
“Ugh, it’s painful watching you attempt to figure it out,” he grumbles. “Your incompetence yet again makes me wish Alexandra had been born male.”
“Is she immaterial or your preferred heir, Father? Pick your position before I get whiplash.” Scowling, I sit roughly in the chair opposite him, kicking my legs out in a sprawl.
“Stop acting like a child, Nathaniel. I know one of the other board members, and I suggested he nominate you for their open seat.”
I squint. “Cooper?”
He tips his glass toward me with an exasperated huff. “In exchange, he keeps me informed.”
“In exchange for what?”
“My business dealings are none of your concern.”
“But mine are yours?” I snarl.
He stands, ruddy cheeks shaking as he storms toward me. “You are nothing without me, Nathaniel! I’ve made you, given you a career! You owe me everything and you’d be wise to remember that.”
Seething, I look away, dismissing him. I’ve heard it all before. We have the same conversation every time we see each other.
“Don’t push this thing with Greenstar, boy. The deal is done and you need to let it be. That’s an order.”
“Father, I can’t just–”
“You can and you will!” he roars, spittle flying.
Disgusted, I slam my tumbler down on the side table so hard the glass cracks. Reginald sputters, stepping back as I surge to my feet.
“I may be your son,” I growl, “but I am not your whipping boy or your fall guy. Not anymore. I’ll make my own decision on this. Your input is neither required nor welcome.”
“You listen here, you–”
“No!” I bark, turning my back on him. “I’m done listening.”
“Don’t be stupid, Nathaniel.”
Ignoring his final volley, I storm from the room. My father raised me to listen and obey, to value money and success over all else. The Livingston name and the legacy he’d built at Price Livingston Financial were to be revered and protected at all costs. For decades, I’d fallen in line. I’d played his game, pleased with the rewards: a successful career and the style of living most people could only dream of. From the outside looking in, I had everything. Or so I thought.
Being in the Bay had taught me I had next to nothing. My professional reputation was inextricably tangled in my father’s. Hell, it was even tied up in Lex’s. It felt like I didn’t have an independent identity, though each of them did.
The people who surrounded me at PL were just as driven by greed and monetary gain as my father was. They weren’t the type to be recognized by charities or industry organizations for their contributions. No one would point to one of my colleagues as a pillar in the community. Lex certainly is.
I could buy anything, anyone, but what did I truly have? An empty penthouse and a nagging suspicion that things were far worse behind the scenes of my father’s company than I could imagine. And I’d bet my trust fund that if anything nefarious ever came to light, I would be set up to take the fall. My father might talk a good game in public about how proud he was of his son and heir, but I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to throw me on the flames to save himself.
My promise to Lex weighs heavily on my shoulders. She’s right; I can’t stand by and put other people’s lives in danger. How far will I have to go to do the right thing?