Monty would like nothing better than to stroll into Whitby Enterprises headquarters in ripped jeans. Instead, he dressed in a well-tailored suit. He left some scruff on his face with the plan to grow a beard. His father hated anything less than a clean shave.
Sofia, who had stayed over another night, smiled at him. "You look sharp. Are you going to a funeral?"
"Yeah, mine. I have a meeting with my father."
She hugged herself. "Did the room just get colder?"
"Everyone knows there is little love between me and old Montgomery. I'm surprised you didn't hear all about it in the kitchen."
Sofia frowned. "You look handsome." She touched his whiskered covering cheek. "I like this."
It was only two days of growth, but when grown in, he had a thick beard. Her fingers were warm and their soft touch reminded him of how starved he was for attention. He smiled and stepped away, resisting the urge to hold her hand against his cheek. He wanted to feel a human connection. Five minutes with Trey's wife or the women he paid didn't provide anything but a release.
All his reasons for avoiding a nonbusiness arrangement with women had evaporated with the romance between Sloane and the slugger. He could wait for it to fizzle out, but she had moved in with him. Sloane would never make such a move on a whim. He had to move on but didn't know how. First, he would face his father.
"I'll be gone awhile." He had an appointment with his therapist, in the afternoon. Discussing Montgomery would dominate the hour. "Are you going to stick around?"
She shook her head. "I need to figure out what I'm doing with the rest of my life."
He frowned. "Stay. We'll take you out to eat. Go home after dinner or in the morning."
"You really don't want to get rid of me?"
He shook his head. "It's nice having someone to talk to besides the oaf."
Gray was still asleep. His second shake down of the sleazebag had been effective, but it resurrected some of Gray's old demons. Monty had repaid the favor and worked out with his friend half the night. Gray didn't talk about it, but sometimes he preferred to wait until the sun came up for the day to sleep.
Monty glanced at his watch. "I'll be late if I don't leave now."
Sofia waved to him. "Go. I'll text you later."
"Stay."
Why did he want her to stay so badly? Because she had interrupted the monotony. She made him take a break from writing, which he hadn't given himself since he returned from their trip. He was ready to start a new itinerary but feared Montgomery would screw with his travel schedule.
The Whitby headquarters was in one of the skyscrapers creating the skyline of downtown Boston near the Prudential Center. He stopped in the lobby. The young girl behind the desk looked up at him. He wondered if his father knew her name. Maybe he knew a lot more than her name. Sour hit his tongue from his own thoughts.
"May I help you?"
"I have an appointment with Mr. Whitby."
She eyed him suspiciously as she picked up the phone receiver. "Name, please."
"Montgomery Whitby."
"I mean your name."
He cracked one of his perfect white teeth smiles. "I'm Montgomery Whitby."
"Oh! I'm sorry, Mr. Whitby." She tried to stand but was tangled on something under her desk. She awkwardly fell back into her seat.
"Are you okay? Do you need assistance?"
"No, thank you. You can go straight up. Do you know your way?"
He nodded, and under his breath, he said, "I've been to hell before."
Instead of down into the fire, he traveled up to the thirty-seventh floor. A woman with a wireless phone headset greeted him.
"Mr. Whitby is running behind schedule. Coffee?"
He waved her off and took a seat in an uncomfortable chair. His father liked to make everyone uncomfortable. He looked up to see the perfect vision.
"Deidre, can I get on his schedule for a moment."
"Certainly Ms. Calhoun. He'll see you next."
Of course, he would keep his son waiting.
She wore a narrow skirt and high heels. It was the uniform of millions of businesswomen, but no other looked as perfect as her. She turned towards the seating area and smiled.
"This is a surprise. I didn't know you could find this building."
"Ha, ha." He responded dryly as he stood for her.
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "You look good."
She brushed his shoulder to remove lint. His body went haywire in her presence. Like a deadman walking, he grasped at his last meal.
"If I never have another drink and work every day, would you dump your jock and come back to me?"
A smile didn't quite reach her face. "I'll always love you, but not like I do Ben. We were best friends and our first everything, but we were just kids. It wasn't just that one night, I saw a different future than you. I hate the phrase, but I was right. I have dedicated myself to work and you just haven't."
"Even if I have?"
She smiled. "Ben's a great guy. You'd like him." Monty would bet his fortune on a big fat 'no way'. "I never felt for anyone how I feel for Ben. He's my future. I am in love with him."
"Just punch a guy when he's down."
She laughed. "I always love your sense of humor."
"I wasn't joking. I never stopped loving you." By the time he said the last two words, they were a faint whisper. He was bleeding out.
She lunged at him and hugged him. "I'm sorry I never loved you enough. Don't forget, I'll always be your friend and on your side against your father."
"He won't treat you like his favorite."
She sighed into his ear. "All I ever wanted was him to treat you like a father should."
He squeezed her closer. "Are you sure I can't change your mind?"
The familiar clearing of a throat interrupted her answer. He wanted to whisper don't let go, but she was too quick as she pulled back and turned around.
"Montgomery, I need a few minutes, but I'll come back since your son is waiting."
"Now's fine. You're more important." His voice changed to commanding. "Monty, come. You can sit while I speak to Sloane."
Sloane turned towards him and tilted her head and frowned. For him, it wasn't enough that she still cared.
Once in his father's large office, Sloane said, "I'll be to the point..."
Monty didn't listen to what she said. Her lips moving mesmerized him. When he was sent away to get better, there was a community room with a small selection of DVDs. A girl used to play Pretty Woman repeatedly. The hooker in the movie taught him kissing was too personal. The mouth talking about security was the last he had devoured.
His lips hadn't been retired completely, but they focused on other female anatomy. Perhaps it was the foolish decision of a boy which guided him for years. Realizing those plush pink lips would never tease his lips, constricted his fractured heart.
He startled slightly when she turned and said, "Monty, he's all yours. Thanks for letting me go first."
He hadn't. "I don't have much time. I have a therapy session to discuss my Daddy issues."
Sloane frowned but kept walking. Montgomery said, "Your only issues are that your mother pampered and spoiled you."
Monty bit his tongue. His father's comment was typical. "Why am I here?"
"Because this is your legacy. You know nothing about our business."
"I know you allowed foreign hackers to compromise your customers because you had antiquated systems in place. Now you are so proud of the one you wish was your child for saving you. I know the resort in Malaysia had a horrible laundry service, a rude front desk employee and..."
"I read your report. It was well written. I want more feedback. I also want you to be more involved. I don't plan to retire, which is good because you may never be ready to take over."
"My birthright." The words tasted sour.
His father nodded. "You need to straighten up and stop screwing around and take steps towards a legitimate heir."
"You mean find a woman worthy of being a Whitby, love optional."
"That's entirely up to you, but Whitbys don't divorce."
He couldn't unpack his statement. "And they don't have fidelity either."
"You imagine things which are false." His father was a hypocrite.
"Can we finish so I can leave?"
"I have a list."
The older man handed him a neat list of mostly hotels, but some restaurant chains and retail stores. They had other businesses from manufacturing to services, but the in person consumer entities were the focus. He scanned it.
"Scranton. Grand Rapids, Toledo. You're kidding me." The list continued. He read some large cities he could work with, but he preferred back roads. Whitby didn't have interests in small towns. If they did, the old man wasn't concerned about them. The cities on the list couldn't satisfy his own interests. "How about LA and Chicago? Large cities?"
"This is where you're needed."
"May I be excused?"
His father had already started reviewing papers on his desk. He waved his hand to dismiss him.
He would have plenty to discuss at his session between his father and his final rejection. He had enough time for lunch. He slipped into the restaurant across the street and sat at the bar.
"Scotch, neat."
He lifted the light glass to his lips. To my heart, RIP.