Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“You got it.”
Rocco had approved his room service and Hale was eating it accompanied by an amazing Bordeaux when his phone rang.
It was Brandi.
“Got him,” she said. “Connecting in three…two…”
He heard the click and then called, “Oskar.”
“Let me guess what this is about,” Oskar sneered.
“Right, so we can dive right in then. You and Inger take the two million, you leave the house out of it. I’ll give you two days to save face before you cave on that.”
“Fuck you, Hale.”
Annoying response, but expected.
“If you don’t, in a week, I’ll own your firm, and you’ll be out of a job. I’ll then own your bank and foreclose on your mortgage. I will also have leaked the fact that Elsa Cohen’s mother carried on an affair with her father’s best friend for twenty years, and was now trying to take his family home, the one that sheltered the child of Jews who escaped the Holocaust. She won’t be able to show her face in Brooklyn, or anywhere, for a good long while. I will also hire a team of attorneys to represent your dad who will mire you so deep in motions and continuances and whatever the fuck games you all play to fuck with each other, you won’t be able to breathe. And your mother’s divorce will be in limbo for as long as they can possibly manage it, but you’ll still lose in the end, and they’ll humiliate you professionally in the process. You’ve got two doors to pick from, Oskar. Choose. Now.”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Oskar whispered.
“Wait, I forgot. Take this as indication you never, never fuck with Elsa or David again. Never, Oskar. I can’t stress that enough.”
“Are you two…getting married or something?”
Hale felt that tightness in his neck, but he ignored it.
“I didn’t call to discuss my relationship with your sister. I called, essentially, to remind you that you have your father’s blood in your veins too, and this is absolute bullshit, what you’re trying to do. You got daddy issues, grow a pair and work it out with him, man to man.”
Oskar recovered and came out swinging.
“You work out your issues with your dad?”
“No, I didn’t,” Hale answered readily. “And he blew his brains out before I had the chance. Learn from that, Oskar. I don’t suspect your dad is that way, but I never dreamed my dad was either. We weren’t close, but I’d give everything I have, and you know that’s a fuckuva lot, to have that chance. I also know he’d give everything too, because in the end, he did. I have nothing from him, except everything, yet not one dollar of that is worth more than having him back.”
Oskar was silent for several loaded beats before he broke it.
“I’ll talk to Mom,” he bit off.
“That talk better go well,” Hale warned. “In two days, if I don’t hear relief in Elsa’s voice, it’s on.”
With that, he hung up.
He buried that call, his memories of Corey, his thoughts on his dad, thoughts he’d never shared with anyone, not even Tom, thoughts he didn’t even allow himself to dwell on.
Doing this, he finished his food, his wine, and then he took a shower and went to bed in another room that was not his, in another city that was not home.
Two days later, he had his phone date with Elsa, who was ecstatic.
Because her dad got word that her mother had caved. The settlement had been decided at two million, and the papers were being drawn up.
Hale was glad.
Hale opened the door to his dad’s place in LA, the home he’d spent half his time growing up in, and he dropped his leather bag at the bottom of the stairs.
He then went to the balcony, stepped out on it, heard gulls crying immediately, and drew in two lungs full of Pacific sea air.
The sound of the waves drifting up and wetting the sand hit him.
He then wrapped his fingers around the edge of the railing, because it struck him then, hard, right in the solar plexus, so that air in his lungs felt trapped.
He was home.
This was home.
Not LA.
This house.
This was home.
His father’s house was home.
He turned and looked inside.
He hadn’t changed a thing because of Genny, Chloe and Sash. They seemed to find comfort there. They seemed to get something out of being in Corey’s space with the pictures of themselves sitting in frames all over it.
On that thought, he walked in, not burying anything for once by going to the kitchen to check that Kayla had informed his Cali housekeeper he was coming home, so his bed would be made with fresh sheets, the house cleaned, the fridge and cupboards filled.
Instead, he walked through the vast open plan living room and kitchen with its floating stairs in the middle to one of the rooms that led off it.