Noah grabbed the printout from the website and reached for the door. He turned back to his brother one more time. “Oh, and Sawyer. I told you so.”
In the car on the way out to the Locke estate on Long Island, Noah did the unthinkable. He called Lyle Hannafort and told him everything. It was not a pleasant phone call, but Noah smoothed the ruffled feathers by the end. A man like Lyle Hannafort doesn’t make a deal solely based on a man’s reputation. Plus, Lyle seemed to appreciate that Noah would do anything for his business. In the end, it came down to zeroes and dollar signs. And the promise of an in-person apology to Marcy. That much Noah could do.
When he arrived at the stone-and-iron gate, he got the usual runaround from Tom, the guard stationed at the estate entrance.
“I’m not supposed to let any of you kids onto the property. You know that.”
“Tom, I’m thirty and you’ve known me since I was ten. Maybe longer.”
Tom grudgingly pressed the button opening the gate. “If I lose my job, I’m coming to work for you and your brother.”
“Do it anyway. I promise you’ll be much happier.”
The car started down the crushed stone driveway, along the manicured hedges. The sprawling and stately white house with the black slate roof rose from the stand of trees starting to leaf out. What was it like for other people to return to their childhood home? For Noah and his siblings, the mixed feelings were too numerous to count. There had been more unhappy moments than happy in the house, but this was the only place they had known their mom. As far as Noah was concerned, this house was where love had once had a chance, but was squashed under the weight of their father’s ego. Everyone around him—children, spouse and employees—existed only to serve him. To laud him. To shower him with affection he never deserved.
A member of his dad’s security detail was standing outside when Noah arrived at the front door. Noah had to once again talk his way in. Since the kids had left home, their dad had practically turned the house into a fortress. As the guard radioed for approval, Noah stood with his hands stuffed into his pockets, noticing how the grounds and house were starting to look dilapidated. There were browned-out sections in the hedges and green algae bloomed near the foundation. Maybe his dad was losing touch with reality. Or maybe this deluded attempt to grab the Grand Legacy was about money and a man desperate to maintain a level of success beyond that of his own children.
“You can go in now. Mr. Locke is waiting for you in his study.”
“Thanks.” Noah saw no point in being rude to the guard. He was doing his job.
Noah strode through the familiar marble-floored foyer, under the antique crystal chandelier and to the left, down the long hall that led to the private quarters. Even this space, which could have easily been more humbly decorated, had a fine Persian runner and museum-quality paintings in gilt gold frames. The house was deadly quiet. A library had more life.
His father’s study door was open and Noah didn’t wait to go in. This would not be a long visit.
“Noah.” Like a king who has no time for commoners, his dad didn’t bother rising from his seat behind the tank of a desk to greet his youngest son. “I was hoping you’d bring your lovely fiancée. Or is there trouble in paradise? Perhaps you should’ve stayed in Florida with your friends, the Hannaforts.”
Noah stood dead center in front of his dad’s desk. “Honestly, things could be better. That’s for sure.”
His dad was smugly fighting a smile, but Noah noticed how much he’d aged. His salt-and-pepper hair was thinning more, his wrinkles were more pronounced. “Sit. Let’s catch up.”
“I’m good. I’m not staying.”
“If things could be better, I take it your brother is having a hard time after we had our conversation?”
“It’s not just Sawyer. I’m having a hard time with it, too. You can’t have the hotel, Dad. It rightfully belongs to us.”
“You mean it belongs to your brother.”
Noah shook his head. “No. It belongs to all three of us now. Sawyer cut both Charlotte and me in on it.”
“He’ll bring you two on board, but he won’t give his own father what is rightfully his?”
His father’s sense of entitlement had always bothered Noah. “I like how you care about fatherhood when there’s something in it for you. Sawyer brought us in to protect the hotel from you. The Hannafort deal is part of that.”
“So you admit that you’re cutting a deal with one of my oldest business rivals, on a property that should belong to me? Do you have any idea how insulting this is?” The anger in his dad’s voice was clear, but Noah preferred it that way. No hiding his true feelings.