Desperate for Love Page 2

  “I’ve had enough, Alec. Your great-great-grandfather and my father, your great-grandfather worked way too hard. To waste it on booze, drugs and legal fees? I cut your father off from the family finances.” His grandfather pulled the ashtray closer to him and dipped his cigar on the rim. “Your mother called me this morning. She expressed her concern.”

  Still a favorite of his grandfather even after his parents’ divorce, Alec’s mother spoke to him often.

  His grandfather placed the cigar in the ashtray and stood to glance out the window again. He liked to look at his grandmother’s rose garden, something he hired gardeners to keep immaculate in her memory.

  Silence filled the room for several minutes. Alec noted the time but didn’t want to rush his grandfather.

  “So you called me here for?”

  “Hmm.” Grandfather turned toward him and shook his head. He came around the desk and sat in the chair opposite Alec. Alec’s eyes widened. His grandfather hadn’t sat in these chairs once.

  “Your grandmother loved this family. She’d be heartbroken at what your father and your uncle have done. What they have destroyed. Marriages, relationships, and for what? I remember when you were born. She looked at me and said, ‘This one, he has your father’s eyes.’ It didn’t surprise us when you followed my father to the construction site.” Grandfather wiped at his eyes. Shocked at the show of emotion, Alec swiped a couple tissues from his desk and handed them to him.

  “What your father has done, what he’s accused of has put my business in jeopardy, our business in jeopardy. The press have been relentless this morning.”

  He imagined the volume of calls. It didn’t change everything Alec had accomplished. “I am not my father, Grandfather.”

  His grandfather leaned forward and touched his hand. “No, you aren’t. You’ve done superb work.”

  While it was nice to have his hard work recognized, current projects required his attention. He needed to get to the office.

  “But your personal life is a mess. Not just you, but your siblings and your cousins.” Alec started to speak but stopped when his grandfather lifted a hand. “Not done. I didn’t work this hard for the generations after me to squander everything.”

  His generation hadn’t wasted the family funds. His sister, Jacqui, was in graduate school majoring in business. Thalia, his cousin, was an award-winning engineer and ran the engineering department. He held a Master’s Degree in Business and ran the construction division.

  “I need to stop the damaging publicity this family keeps generating. Every time someone does something stupid, it affects the business. My business.” He frowned. “I didn’t plan on working at my age. I can’t control this family, but I can control the finances.”

  Damn his stupid father for fucking up everything.

  Grandfather rose from his chair and plucked his cigar out of the ashtray with his short, wrinkled fingers. After a long drag, he pointed at Alec. “Alec, you are thirty-six and the oldest of my grandchildren. It’s time. You have to get married.”

  What?

  Alec knocked over the chair in his rush to stand. “You can’t force me to get married!”

  “No, but I can control what happens if you don’t.”

  His tongue, heavy and thick, stuck to the roof of his dry mouth. He spotted the wet bar in the corner, stumbled over to it and grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge. Grandfather didn’t acknowledge yelling. He never tolerated settling issues with a raised voice. Another deep breath. This wasn’t happening.

  “I have given you everything. Done everything you asked.”

  He imagined the ripple effect this would create. Their father never cared about the children he had. His cousins weren’t his first concern. His sister and his brothers were. Jacqui was in school, her tuition paid for by his grandfather. Trevon and Troy needed his financial help to stabilize themselves. They were both starting new businesses, needed family funds, and promised not to tell their grandfather until it was up, running, and profitable.

  “And if I leave? What will you do if I leave the company?” Alec continued.

  Grandfather walked over to him. “I hope you don’t. I’m not doing this to punish you. But I will not watch this business fall apart, not again. I am not leaving my shares of this company to family who will run it into the ground. Come and sit. There is little time.”

  “Are you ill? Is something…”

  Grandfather interrupted him with a wave of his hand. “Nothing of the sort. Sorry to imply otherwise. But I will not live forever and need to put plans in place.”

  Back to the marriage insanity. “You realize my father cheated on my mother while married?”

  “There is an infidelity clause in place.”

  He’d do anything for him. Not this, though. He was not for sale.

  “I don’t need my trust fund.”

  “I know you don’t. But you like your position at Bennett. I want our business to focus on family. No more partying scandals, affairs, children born who may or may not be Bennetts.” Grandfather’s eyes narrowed. “I know marriage is not on your agenda. I never questioned your choices and have supported you since day one. But your current social life will not work anymore.”

  Alec opened his mouth, but no words came out. How did he expect to enforce this?

  “And travel, the access to the family properties?” He thought of his cousin, Julian, and his brothers, and their scheduled boys’ trip to the Bahamas.

  “My homes will be off-limits.”

  Damn.

  “I don’t understand. Why?”

  “Scandal after scandal. Changes need to happen. Your father and your uncle…” He checked his watch. “… should receive their notifications from the lawyers. As for my grandchildren, I plan to speak to each of you.”

  Alec jammed his hands into his pockets and turned toward his grandfather. “This is insane, Grandfather! What do you expect to do? Uncle Weston will rebel. He wants his position as CEO back and think that your shares will automatically split between him and my father. And the others? How do you expect them to agree? They won’t. No one will.”

  The business stood to suffer; Alec was sure of it.

  “You are punishing the wrong people,” Alec said.

  “This is where you are wrong. Everyone’s actions affect the business.”

  He couldn’t be serious. “So I have to get married to keep my position as Vice President of Bennet Construction?”

  “Correct.”

  “You’re betting the gay marriage of a Vice President will beat out the negative press of my father,” he said.

  Grandfather folded his hands in front of him, the sign the discussion had ended. “Don’t pull that crap on me, Alec. You know how I feel.” His eyes flashed in anger. “Why does you being gay matter? I want you to find a husband, someone who will love and respect you. Put down roots. Period.”

  “Knock, knock.” A man appeared at the door. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “Not interrupting at all,” answered Grandfather. “Come in.”

  Typical of his grandfather, another ticking time bomb for him to disarm. Alec buttoned his jacket. “I have to go to the office.”

  “Alec, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Alec stared at the man who entered his grandfather’s study. Late thirties, dressed in a tailored suit, he walked in like he was familiar with his surroundings. His light blue eyes, similar to his own, examined Alec as Alec examined him.

  The man extended his hand to Alec. “Alec, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  A hint of a Spanish accent laced his words. Alec tilted his head to his side and narrowed his eyes. No, it couldn’t be.

  Grandfather cleared his throat. “Alec, meet your cousin Antonio. He is here to run the Architect and Design division.”

  Alec turned and stared at his grandfather. Antonio, his uncle’s son. The uncle his grandfather just cut off from the family. The son no one has met.

  Travis />
  The conductor’s voice jarred Travis out of his thoughts. His mind was on Tyler, where he was, what he was doing. Tyler disappeared on his parents, but he’d never done it to Travis. Why disappear before breakfast?

  The block his parents lived on hadn’t changed since he was a kid. Neighbors upgraded one or two houses, others changed the paint color or added landscaping, but overall it looked the same.

  The step by the sidewalk, still chipped and broken, the bushes, still overgrown and leaning into the walkway up to the house. Old crates, a broken bench, and a pile of decayed planters lay in the corner. Every week, Travis offered to help and every week, his parents told him not to worry.

  The mail bulged out of the mailbox. Envelopes floated to the ground as he opened it. Picking up the stack, he grabbed the newspaper bundles piled on the porch. They often forgot to check the front door for deliveries. The side door off of the driveway was his parents’ main entrance.

  He knocked on the front door, twice before putting his key in the lock. Afraid of walking in on something he couldn’t unsee, he opened the door and stomped his feet on the welcome mat. His mother told him once a marriage of forty years doesn’t mean they stopped doing things. When he had turned red, she smiled and patted him on the cheek and said, “Yes, dear we still do those things.”

  “Mom? Dad? Did you guys forget to get the mail?” A new frame hung by the front door. A picture Tyler took last summer of their mother smiling in the garden. The lighting made her look angelic and happy. He’d have to ask Tyler for a copy for his apartment.

  More family photographs lined the walls. He, Tyler and Gracelyn were in nearly every one of them, together and separate. His favorites were of them from their summer camping trips. They’d camp out at a state park with a lake or a beach, a different one each time. Long weekends roughing it in a tent, roasting marshmallows, swimming for hours, sunburned and happy.

  He hoped to share those memories with his own kids. It made him enjoy these pictures even more.

  “Travis?”

  The sound of his mom’s voice startled him. He dumped the pile of papers on the kitchen table, narrowly missing his dad.

  “Sorry, Dad. Couldn’t see you under the stack of mail.” He smiled. “Hey Mom.”

  “Hi, sweetie.” She tilted her chin up for a kiss and pushed her hands into a ball of dough on the counter. He peeked over her shoulder and saw chocolate whipped in a bowl.

  “Don’t you dare stick your filthy hands in there!”

  He laughed as he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands up to his elbows. It was a habit from when he was a boy. Dirt always got on the insides of his wrists and up his arms, and his mother made sure he was clean.

  “So once they’re clean, I can try this? Please?” They both laughed, and she dipped a small spoon in the chocolate mixture and handed it to him.

  “You never could walk away from chocolate.” His father sat at the end of the table, the newspaper spread out in front of him. They built the bench into the wall, the chair at the end replaced a couple times from wear and tear.

  The last time his father had done any improvements, Travis was thirteen years old. The day after he painted the house, his father got injured at work. A welder by trade, he had loved his job. He had often come home whistling and told them stories over dinner.

  “How was Uncle Rick’s retirement party?” Travis had many surrogate uncles. His parents had them over at least once a week for dinner. His Mom loved to cook for a big crowd, and those guys flattered her and made her laugh.

  He sat at the table to sort through the mail and weed out the junk before handing the pile to his dad.

  “Good, good. Hard to believe our entire group is retired. It was nice to see everyone. Vicki, Dean’s wife, had a baby girl, so Uncle Rick finally has a granddaughter.” Dad said.

  Mom laughed. “Imagine being surrounded by boys for so long. Six sons, ten grandsons… The look of amazement on Aunt Martha’s face when she showed me the pictures.”

  “Oh, they weren’t there?” He passed another stack of mail over to his Dad.

  “No, the baby was born five weeks early so they couldn’t make it.”

  Travis made a note on his phone to send a baby gift over to Dean. They kept in touch on social media and saw each other around the holidays every year. His Mom called it the crazy Christmas Eve, with the host’s house crammed with friends and family.

  The smell of cinnamon wafted through the kitchen.

  “What are those?” Travis went to see what his mom pulled out of the oven. He saw two pies cooling on the counter and muffins arranged in a basket. “Is there a fundraiser at the church?”

  The dishes overflowed in the sink, so he grabbed the dish soap and a sponge and got to work. His mother filled him in on the neighborhood gossip. She was baking for the neighbors. Cindy and Jim, who lived two doors down the block, just had a baby. And Terrance, he remembered him, didn’t he? Terrance just got home from the service after two tours in the Middle East. Lucy’s cat was missing; she thought Mr. Fields had taken it. Phil and Missy are putting their house up for sale. She wanted to move closer to her parents.

  His father chimed in with a comment now and then, his mother and father kept completing each other’s sentences. Dishes done, he wiped the counter while his mom finished the last batch of muffins.

  “Where are your reading glasses?” he asked his father.

  “Oh, I might have left them in the living room. I don’t need them.”

  He shared a look with his mom and they both laughed. “Sure you don’t. I’ll get them.”

  He went into the living room and sighed at the stack of dishes next to his father’s favorite armchair. Glasses, two plates, a candy wrapper, and two coffee mugs sat on the coffee table. It took two trips to clean up the living room. His father smiled as he handed him his glasses.

  “Have either of you seen Tyler today?” He poured himself a cup of coffee. For years, he tried to upgrade his parents to a one-cup machine but his mother insisted on making a whole pot of coffee. He took a sip and grimaced. He’d have to make a fresh pot.

  “No, I haven’t. Henry?” His mother paused.

  “I haven’t seen him for days, Sarah. I thought he was at Dillon’s.” His father slammed the newspaper on the table and took off his glasses. “What’s he done now?”

  He hated having these conversations with his parents.

  “I don’t know. He came to my place last night. He looks thin, thinner than usual. Told me he’s been working overtime.”

  “Overtime?” His mom asked in disbelief. Travis watched his parents stare at each other, their way of speaking without words. His mom dried her hands and walked over to the table.

  “He lost the job a few weeks ago, Travis. The factory downsized.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “I am. When I visited Missy, Phil walked in and told us it was a shame the factory was laying off employees. After he got laid off the next week, they listed the house for sale.”

  His mom squeezed his shoulder as the oven timer dinged. She pulled the tray of muffins out and put another one into the oven. His father huffed and shook his head.

  “Don’t go getting wrapped up in your brother’s messes, Travis. It’s not worth it.” His father leaned on the table. “He’s my son, but it’s because of your mother that he’s still welcome in this house.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Dad, I can’t just turn my back on him.”

  “I wonder if he realizes how lucky he is to have you.”

  His father grabbed his cane and struggled to get up from the chair. Travis walked around and slid his arms under his father to steady him.

  “Good thing you work out,” his father joked.

  Even after all this time, it still hurt to see his father suffer. He didn’t let it stop him from going on long outings; the motorized scooter Travis had gotten for him a couple years back had many miles on it.

  He opened the cupboard ne
xt to the pantry and noticed a weird odor. While his mother continued to rattle on, he opened the pantry door and held his nose.

  “Oh, it stinks over there. Not sure why. I looked in the cupboards. I can’t find the smell.” She peered in over his shoulder.

  “Let’s hope it’s only rotten food. And not something else.”

  “Something else? Oh, God, not a mouse! Please, no.”

  Travis turned to her and laughed. The shuffle of his father’s footsteps signaled his return.

  “Mouse? Where?” his father asked.

  “Nowhere, Dad.” A pungent smell wafted toward him and he covered his nose.

  “You have better things to do. Leave it. If it’s a mouse, we’ll call an exterminator.”

  “I’m here so I’ll take a quick look.”

  His father had the best of intentions. But by the afternoon, he would say his back was hurting, and he needed to sit for a minute. Without fail, they’d find him napping on the recliner.

  Travis took out his cell phone and tapped the flashlight app. The pantry shelves rivaled the organization of a supermarket so it didn’t take him long to find the source. On the bottom shelf, he noticed something green. The odor, strong and stale, caused him to gag. He moved the stepstool and reached for the bag. Something shriveled and brownish-green lay next to it. Yuck. He held up a loaf of stale bread and a rotten apple. His mother looked at him, confused.

  “How’d those get in there?”

  Before she could blame his father, Travis made something up on the spot. “They must have fallen when I was putting away the groceries last week.”

  His dad looked at the bag of what used to be bread and grimaced. Then, he looked at Travis and winked.

  Chapter Two

  Alec

  Alec’s stomach growled as he arrived at his office and he cursed himself for not eating earlier. The pile of work on his desk wasn’t going away regardless of hunger or the clusterfuck of crazy his grandfather had unleashed this morning.

  He needed to concentrate on getting through the site reports. The number of projects they had going at once was staggering. The tendency for everything to bottleneck caused him to come in on Saturdays to catch up. He should hire someone else, but he never had time.