Win Big
Page 3
After a beat of silence, she says, “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I’m not canceling. I’m just wondering if we could possibly make it earlier that day. Like maybe five?” That’ll still make me late for the banquet and I’ll be driving like a freak through L.A. traffic to get from the playground to the arena, but it could work.
“I work till four,” she says. “That’s why we made it six, so I have time to pick him up from daycare.” She pauses. “Maybe I could get off a little early.”
“I can call Monkey Biz,” I offer. “To see if we can move it.”
“What if they can’t?”
I rub the back of my neck, wandering to the window that looks toward the ocean. “Well, I’ll figure something else out.”
“What’s the conflict? Hot date?”
I snort. “Nah. Big fundraiser the team does every year. I thought I could miss it, but apparently not.”
“Oh. Well, I guess that’s something you need to do. Business. Really, don’t worry about us.”
“I’m not worried,” I say quietly. “I want to be there. For Owen.”
“Of course.” Her tone is subdued. “Okay, I’ll see if I can work through lunch and leave an hour early, and you check about rescheduling.”
I feel like shit. Heather doesn’t want to burden me, I know she doesn’t, but I could feel her dismay just talking to her on the phone.
I try to help her and Owen as much as I can, but sometimes I worry maybe I help a little too much. Not that Heather takes advantage of it; but I know she’s coming to rely on me.
Which freaks me out. But then I feel glad that I’m freaked out, because I deserve it.
But it’s okay. I can do this. I want to be someone who can be relied on. I’m just terrified that I’ll never be that guy. I’ve already let her and Owen down in the worst way possible. Why would I think I can ever make that up to them?
Chapter 3
Everly
“Okay, why are we all here?”
I look around my dining table at my various relatives—nephews JP and Théo; my three brothers, Asher and Harrison, who are twins, and Noah; and my niece, Riley, who just asked that question.
We’re all close in age. Riley, at twenty-three, is the youngest. Théo is the oldest, at twenty-eight. The only one we’re missing from this younger generation is Jackson, who lives and plays hockey in Chicago.
I’ve convened the meeting at my place after extensive planning, since we all have crazy schedules. “Apparently Harrison and JP think we need to do something about this, uh, dispute between my dad and Mark and Matthew.”
“And by ‘dispute,’ you mean lawsuit,” Asher mutters. Asher, like me, doesn’t play hockey—but he writes about it, as a sports reporter.
“Yeah, that.”
I don’t know why Harrison thinks I can solve this, but he somehow convinced me to get everyone together to talk about it. I’m good at organizing, so I managed to find a day and time everyone could make it. I’m not going to solve this problem, but I’m pretty good at facilitating, so maybe with all of us on one room, we can come up with some ideas.
“What do we know about it?” JP asks, looking around the table.
“Mark and Matthew think Dad stole money from them,” Harrison says. “That’s bullshit.”
“I don’t think they’d sue him if it was bullshit,” JP says with an edge.
I pat the air with my hands in a “calm down” gesture. “Let’s not get defensive. That’s part of the problem here. Everyone’s taking sides and we don’t know the whole story.”
JP relaxes. “True enough. Sorry.”
I smile at him. He can be hotheaded, but he’s relaxed a lot lately. Might have something to do with Taylor.
I look to Théo. When it comes to problem solving, he’s the man. “What do you think, Théo?”
He shifts in his chair and peers down at his hands. “I don’t know much about the lawsuit.”
“Much?” I lean forward. “Or anything?”
He meets my eyes. “I heard Grandpa and Chelsea talking one day. She was…not very happy with him. It kind of sounded like…he did take some money.”
My stomach tightens. But to be honest, I’ve overheard some things too, over the last couple of years. And I have my own fears about what’s going on.
Théo and I are probably in the best position of anyone here to find out the truth. He works with Dad every day and, well, Dad’s my dad. Also, my mom knows something about this.
“Have you noticed how much time your mom is spending at the office lately?” Théo asks me.
I swallow. “Yes. I have.” My spine tingles.
“Do you know what that’s about?”
This time I avoid his eyes. “No.”
He grunts.
Nobody else says anything. I look to my brothers, first Asher and Harrison. “You guys need to talk to Dad.”
Harrison purses his lips. Asher makes an unhappy face.
“Come on!” I press my hands to the table. “Harrison, you’re the one who started this! I can’t fix it all myself.”
Yes, I’m the oldest sibling, and yes, I tend to take charge. Some may have called me bossy. I feel like that’s a gendered term—boys don’t get called bossy. It’s totally unfair. Nonetheless, I have worked on replacing orders with requests. As the head of the Foundation, I’m not bossy…I’m the boss. And I’ve learned there are actually better ways to get results than by ordering people around and demanding results. I’ve learned the differences between a boss and a leader, and I want to inspire people, not piss them off. I want to coach them to be better, not criticize them (okay, most of the time). I’m not afraid to admit I don’t know everything and to involve my team to get results. Yet here I am with my family, falling back into old patterns.
I turn to Riley, who hasn’t said much. “What do you think about all this, Riley?”
She and I are both fiercely loyal to our families, so she’s been on Mark’s side while I’ve been defending Mom and Dad for years. It’s caused friction between us. Not that we see each other that much.
“I think Grandpa took money from Dad and Uncle Matthew. I’ve always believed it.” She lifts her chin. “But I don’t know why. I do believe there’s some kind of explanation for it. And…” She hesitates. “I used to think Chelsea was involved, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Same,” JP says immediately.
Wow. My throat tightens up briefly. Théo, JP, Riley, and her brother, Jackson, have always hated my mom. That’s been really hard, and has made me keep my distance from them throughout my life. Ha-ha—well, we’ve always been physically distant; my brothers and I grew up here in California, Mark moved all over but spent a bunch of time in Winnipeg, and Matthew lived in Quebec. But I’ve always known that Mark and Matthew were suspicious of my mom, thinking she married Dad for his money, which of course rubbed off on their children. Then when this issue of theft arose, they were quick to blame Mom. Are they finally getting it, that my mom’s a good person, and that Mom and Dad love each other?
I’ve never once doubted that.
“Thanks,” I say quietly, sliding glances to my brothers.
“I agree too,” Théo adds.
“Does anyone know anything about this money? Does Dad think it’s his?” I look around.
Théo’s jaw tightens. “The money is Dad and Uncle Mark’s inheritance from our grandma.”
I sit back in my chair. “Are you sure about that?” I don’t want to believe Dad would take money from his own sons.
Dad’s first wife was from a wealthy family in Toronto. I’ve never really had much to do with them. Grace died a few years before I was born; Dad remarried pretty quickly, and her family was livid about that.
Grace helped Dad buy into the Condors, making him pa
rt owner at that time. Other than that, I don’t know details about how much money she had or who she left it to when she died. It was never something Dad talked about.
“Yeah.” Théo’s voice is rough.
Heaviness fills my chest. I nod. I don’t want to believe this, but I also don’t want to be defensive or in denial. If Dad did something heinous, I have to deal with it.
“Maybe we should involve Chelsea in this discussion,” Théo adds.
“I already thought of that,” I admit. “I guess that should be me. Harrison and Asher will talk to Dad and see what they can find out. JP and Théo, you talk to your dad. And what about Mark?” I direct my attention to JP. “He’s your coach. What do you think?”
JP grimaces. “Him being my coach has nothing to do with this.”
“I know, I know! I just meant, you might have opportunity.”
“If I get an ‘opportunity’ to have a conversation alone with Uncle Mark, it’s in his office with the privacy door shut because I fucked up.”
I smile and everyone else laughs.
“I’ll see,” he says reluctantly.
“I’ll talk to him,” Riley says. “For God’s sake, he’s my dad.”
I smile. “Thank you.” I jot down notes on the pad of paper in front of me. “Okay, let’s set a time line for follow-up.”
Everyone groans, but Théo grins and rubs his hands together. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
We figure out an approximate date when we’ll reconvene and present everything we’ve learned about the issue.
“Excellent. Now, who wants a drink?”
All hands go in the air.
So, this is weird, all of us being together like this. It’s also weird without Taylor and Lacey here, who I’ve gotten pretty close to. In fact, they’ve come to be my closest friends, which is nice, since my best friend, Jess, took a business transfer to Houston last year.
Lacey is married to Théo. Lacey and Taylor were neighbors and became friends when she and Théo moved here, which is how I got to know Taylor. And now Taylor and JP are a couple.
I need to talk to my girls, since I haven’t told them what happened with Wyatt the night of the New Year’s Eve party, which I tried to put behind me until I had to confront him at the arena the other day about not coming to the banquet. I thought I could do it, but I got all quivery inside and he got all dominant and annoyed at me, which made my knees go weak. I like being in charge, but damn, sometimes it’s super hot when a man takes control. Though I should hate that.
It confuses me.
“When does Lacey work this week?” I ask Théo, sitting back down now that everyone has a drink.
“Hmm.” He rubs his chin. “She’s off Wednesday, I think.”
“Oh good! We can do happy hour drinks.”
“Uh-oh.” But he grins.
“Taylor too,” I tell JP.
“That’s fine,” he says. “We’re on a road trip. Winnipeg, Detroit, Minneapolis. We leave tomorrow.”
I nod. “Perfect.”
* * *
—
Lacey and Taylor aren’t part of the Wynn family, other than by marriage (Lacey), so they’re a little more objective about some of the stuff that goes on. They both already know about the “family meeting” I held.
It’s a crappy day—dark, overcast, and drizzling—so we’re sitting inside at Indigo Iris in Venice Beach, where the atmosphere is warm and cozy with lots of old brick and wood, and brass lamps.
I’m eyeing Taylor’s crab salad sandwich on a brioche bun with envy. In my carb avoidance, I ordered a salad. It’s great—Greek chicken salad, with lots of feta and olives, yum—but sadly there’s no bread. Lacey’s vegetable curry also looks delicious. I fork up a chunk of marinated grilled chicken. “So, do you want to hear about the family meeting?”
“Yes,” Lacey says. “But not yet.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“First we want to hear about New Year’s Eve and you spending the night with Wyatt.” Taylor leans closer to the table. “Spill.”
“Ahahaha. I didn’t ‘spend the night’ with him.”
“Yes you did. You texted us the next morning when you got home.”
“Yeah, but…” I pause. “Okay, we made out.”
They both straighten and give me piercing looks.
“That was it.” One corner of my mouth pulls down. “Apparently I passed out in the middle of it.”
Lacey winces. “Oooh.”
I sigh. “Yeah. Drank a little too much bubbly.”
“Huh.” Taylor’s eyebrows pinch together. “How did he react to that?”
“He went and slept in another room.”
“And the next morning?” she prompts. “Was he pissed?”
“No.” I think back. “He was sort of…amused.”
Taylor smiles like a cat who just chowed down on a small yellow bird.
I frown. “What? What’s that look for?”
“You can tell a lot about a man from how he reacts to being, uh, cock blocked.”
“This is true!” Lacey speaks up. “I know Wyatt comes across as kind of…”
“Slutty?” I raise my eyebrows.
“I don’t like that word.” Lacey taps her chin. “But I know what you’re saying.”
“Anyway, it shows he’s not a dick to women,” Taylor says. “Not that I thought he was. He’s always been nice to me.”
“He’s always been a jerk to me,” I mutter.
“You do kind of push his buttons,” Lacey says.
“I do not! He pushes my buttons! He’s always arguing with me.”
Lacey and Taylor exchange glances. “Tell us more about the making out,” she suggests gently.
“God. It was hot. And I was really into it, against my better judgment—”
Lacey cracks up. “Better judgment? Are you kidding me? You’re even businesslike in bed?”
My chin jerks down. “Hey.”
She tilts her head, eyeing me. “Um…that struck a nerve.”
“Are you a dominatrix?” Taylor’s eyes bug out.
My head swivels to lay a stare on her. “No.” I pause. “The opposite.” I make a face.
“Oh! Now we’re getting somewhere.” Lacey waves her fork. “Why do you look like that? It’s okay to submit to a man in bed, Ev. You’re in charge of so much in your everyday life—running the Foundation, trying to fix your family—it’s understandable that you like to give up control when it comes to sex.”
I cover my eyes with one hand. “We don’t really need to talk about this. We never got to the point of having sex.”
“But you wanted to.”
“Yes. I mean, my body wanted to. And…I guess due to the alcohol, my mind gave up telling me it was a bad idea.”
“Yeeeaaah,” Taylor drawls out with a grimace. “Your dad owns the team Wyatt plays for.”
“Right? Terrible idea. Also, I actually don’t like him. He’s an ass. Life’s a big joke for him. All fun, no work. You know what they say.”
“Um, what?” Lacey eyes me.
“All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy.”
Taylor taps her bottom lip. “Hmm. I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”
“Okay fine. All work and no play makes Jill the boss.”
Taylor and Lacey both laugh.
“Does he have a son?” I blurt out.
Their laughter stops. They frown.
“A…son?” Lacey asks. “Like, a child?”
“Son. S. O. N.”
“Um…I don’t know.” Taylor slides a look toward Lacey.
“Me either.” Lacey purses her lips. “Why do you ask that?”
“I saw him…New Year’s Day. At the pier. He was with a little boy. They looked r
eally close.”
“Huh.” Lacey’s forehead wrinkles. “I’ve never heard him talk about a son. Obviously, he’s not married, I know that. But you’d think if he had a son and shared custody, he’d have him with him sometimes, or talk about him.”
“True.” I nod. “Or he keeps him secret.”
“But why?”
I shrug. “Because he wants to bang chicks and party all the time. Having a kid is a mood killer.”
Both my friends stare at me.
“Don’t you like kids?” Lacey’s eyes widen.
“I love kids, sure. I’m just saying, he doesn’t act like a dad. He acts like a big kid.”
“Well, maybe it was someone else’s child,” Taylor offers.
“I guess. Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“There’s no makeup make-out session?” Lacey smirks.
“No.” Then I remember the heat in the media room the other day when I had to talk to him about the banquet. “There almost was.” I relate that incident as well.
Taylor nods. “It’ll happen. Sooner or later.”
“No, it won’t. I’m not going to let it. I was drunk. That’s why I let that happen. He’s not the kind of guy I’m in to. I don’t have time for a relationship right now anyway, and definitely not with him.”
“You had time for Dan Diaz.” Taylor gives me an innocent look.
“Yeah. That wasn’t going anywhere, though. Dan’s a great guy, but he’s not over his wife.” She passed away less than a year ago. “I don’t want to be somebody’s rebound. So we just went out a few times. As friends. Although, I do like older men. They’re more mature and stable. Not like Wyatt. He’s actually younger than me.”
“Okay.” Taylor shrugs. “Now tell us about the family meeting.”
I’m surprised they’re letting me off the hook about Wyatt that easy. I’d sort of like to argue more about it. Oh well. “It was…productive. I guess. We all talked about what we know of the issue and then I assigned everyone tasks with due dates.”
Lacey grins. “Théo must have loved that.”
I laugh. “He did seem to like the structure.”