Jason would be taking over Roe Real Estate West Coast in the coming weeks, and my anxiety about it all was through the roof. That Friday night, we were having a celebration dinner for Jason where I’d do some kind of passing of the keys to him. It was a photo opportunity to paint Jason in a good light, probably his parents’ idea, seeing how most of the time, Jason was in the press for being a trust fund idiot.
Over the past two years or so, he’d seemed to tame his party-animal ways, but that didn’t mean I put any trust in him running a part of my business. Still, I respected his dad enough to give it a shot.
Walter Rollsfield was one of the richest men in the world, and he was the first person who ever invested in me at a young age. Since then, he’d been like a father figure to me. His son, on the other hand? A hot damn mess who left a disaster everywhere he went. I had my fears about hiring Jason, but my hope was that over time, he would get bored with the job—just like he got bored with everything else—and I’d be able to hire a real leader for the position. Plus, I’d have both Walter’s and my wallet to build my dream properties.
It was a risk to take Jason on, but the bigger risk was losing Walter’s backing for my next business endeavor—which reminded me how perturbed I was that I’d lost the property that afternoon. If only I knew who’d gotten in the way of my Brooklyn dream. The moment I found out, I was going to raise some hell.
What a shitastic day.
I was in a mood. I’d been in a mood since Damian informed me about the lost property. A mood bad enough that I doubted any of my favorite things would’ve been able to pull me from my grump-fest. Whenever I was in a mood, I needed two things: Mom and Cheetos.
After stuffing my face with Cheetos Puffs, I picked up my cell phone and called the only woman willing to have heart-to-hearts with me when I was cranky. My number one spot on speed dial.
“Hey, sweetheart. How’s it going?” Mom asked when she answered my call.
I sat back in my chair and groaned.
She knew exactly what that groan meant, too.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to fly out to New York to make you some chicken and dumplings? You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
I almost took her up on the offer. What could I say? I was a mama’s boy and talking to her always made the failures seem less harsh.
“I’m good, Mom. Just wanted to feel a piece of home tonight.”
“How about you come home for a quick visit?” she urged. “Kentucky is missing you.”
I’d been in NYC since I was eighteen years old, and just last month, I turned twenty-eight. With each day that passed, New York felt more like home base. The only thing missing was Mom’s love and cooking.
“I’ll be down there in a few weeks for a visit. Until then, I have a lot of work to do.”
It was her turn to groan, and I knew exactly what that groan meant, too.
“Work, work, work,” she complained. “Don’t you ever want to make time for play?”
“Play doesn’t bring you income,” I said.
“But it brings you the important things. Don’t you think it’s time you settled down with someone? Maybe give me a few grandbabies. Or, heck, I’ll take a grand fur baby at this point. You can’t stay cooped up in your house and office all the time, Connor. You have to put yourself out there to experience real life.”
You know how I said Mom was almost always in my number-one spot? She only slipped a little when she’d scold me for not having a life outside of working.
I wasn’t built to be the family man. I decided that a long time ago when I chose to give myself to my work. I was only twenty-eight years old, but I had the income of an eighty-year-old man who’d worked his life to death. I’d spent the past decade of my life hustling hard to build my empire. With that gift, I had to let go of some other things, like relationships and family. I didn’t have the time for it. It would be selfish for me to bring a woman into my life and not give her my all. At least that was the bullshit reason I gave people. The truth of the matter was relationships terrified me. Giving someone your all to only have it taken away some day? No thank you. Not interested.
“I hear you, Mom.” I lied to get her to pull back on the topic.