Walking into the old brownstone, Jarred punched the lift button and stepped in as soon as the doors opened, hitting the top floor where his father’s offices were. While multi-million dollar companies preferred sleeker, modern office buildings, dear old dad preferred old money ways, keeping the same building that Jarred’s grandfather had started the family business in long ago. The cars were made in a facility in the industrial section of the city, but the magic, as his father liked to call it, happened here. The company had one of those sleek buildings of course over in Kinston upon Thames where the majority of the employees worked, but this, this was the hub for most of the senior executives.
The lift doors opened and he stepped out, his steps muffled by the plush carpeting. His father’s assistant was seated at her desk outside his office, her eyes widening as she saw him approaching. “M-Mr. Maloney,” she stammered, standing abruptly. “Your father is about to go on a conference call. If you would like to wait a moment.”
Jarred held up his hand, silencing her next words as he stalked past. “I’ll only be a moment.”
She opened her mouth to object but he didn’t wait to hear what she said, pushing open the door and walking in. His father was seated at his desk, his phone in his hand when Jarred entered, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Jarred.”
“Dad,” he said tightly. His father’s eyes narrowed at the sound of his name and not the customary father, which gave Jarred slight satisfaction that he was pissed off. Good.
Placing the phone back on the receiver, he laced his fingers and stared at his son. “Well? What is it?”
“My trust fund,” Jarred forced out, hating the way his father acted like he didn’t know what was up. He knew why he was here.
His father leaned over and pressed a number on his phone console. “Kinsley, reschedule my call for ten please.”
“Yes sir,” she replied before he clicked off, turning his attention back toward his son. Jarred clenched his fists tightly at his side, staring him directly in the eye. “What the hell are you trying to do to me?”
He laughed. “That is a loaded question Jarred. The same could be said of you.”
“I’m not you,” Jarred bit out.
He shook his head slowly. “That is correct. You are far from the way I was at your age. Do you know I was making multi-million dollar deals at age twenty?”
Jarred hated when his father did that, making him feel like he wasn’t worthy enough to be his son. Jarred had tried to be successful like him once and it hadn’t worked out.
“Have you heard from Susan lately? You were a fool to lose her.”
Jarred gritted his teeth, thinking about his ex-fiancée for the first time in weeks. They’d been broken up for four months, but he was surprised at the burn of bitterness in his throat when he thought of her. He should have completely forgotten her by now. She wasn’t anything to him.
Susan’s family ran in the same social circles as his family did so it wasn’t surprising when they hooked up. Two years later, Jarred had bit the bullet and bought a ring, presenting it to her one night over dinner. It had seemed like the next step. After all, they had been living together. Susan was very involved in the charitable social scene, though Jarred always thought it was because she liked the limelight and not actually helping people.
He’d loved her. He’d actually thought he could do it too. Be that bloke. The kind of son his father was proud of. And he’d put everything into that relationship. Even when everything in his being screamed that it wasn’t working, that it didn’t fit, he’d forced it. Hell, even Turner had seemed confused that he wanted to marry her. The two of them had never gotten along. But damn it, Jarred had tried.
But it wasn’t long after he’d proposed that he’d seen the chinks in her armor. The way nothing he did was ever enough. The way she spent money like it was water. The way she envied her other friends with their even richer husbands. Sure, he was a drunken sod now, but he’d had plans. He wanted to take over his father’s F1 team. He had a lot of ideas to make them a major contender. But that hadn’t been enough for her. She’d said it was common.
Even for his own fiancée, he hadn’t been enough. She’d left in the middle of the night, the sparkling diamond on the empty pillow beside him, with a note that said, “I’m worth more than this. I can do better.” Not even a month later, she was attached to someone even richer than his father. Her leaving had been part of his alcoholic binge and another black mark on his record according to his father. “This isn’t about her,” Jarred said through clenched teeth.
His father smirked. “I saw her the other night. She’s looking great, too much of a woman for you apparently.”
His family hadn’t even asked what had happened. They’d assumed he’d fucked up. That was an admission that burned in his gut. Turner though. He’d known. But he’d also been happy to see her go. “Just give me back my trust fund and I’ll get out of your sight.”
“It’s not that easy,” his father said, leaning back in his chair, lacing his hands over his suit clad stomach. “It wasn’t just my call, Jarred. The stakeholders in this company, the ones that keep the lights on and production running are concerned with your behavior and the future of this company. To be frank, I was forced to make a decision, son, and it’s for your own good.”
“By cutting me off?” he asked. “What will they say now when I’m living on the streets and begging for scraps?”
He laughed. “You are far from being a beggar on the streets Jarred. God, you are just like your mother, a consummate actress when she wants to be.”
“Sod off,” he muttered even as the blood boiled just under the surface.
“Tsk, tsk,” he said, shaking his head at his son. “There are conditions to getting your trust money back, Jarred. He left you an out, of course. Every business dealing should have an out. All you have to do is show me that son I know is hiding under that booze fueled outer shell.”
He heard his words over the dull roar of his anger. “Outs?”
His father nodded. “Two to be exact. If you take care of both of them, then I’ll reinstate your money. Actually, I’ll double them and vow to never touch them again. How does that sound? I’ll even sign a contract.”
“What are they?” he asked, eyeing his father. In his warped mind, they could be anything but he was willing to at least listen and find out. After all, he needed his money back. He was right, though, as much as Jarred hated to admit it. It would be months before he would need to worry, but the trust fund monthly was his cushion, one less thing he needed to worry about until now. It’s also your prison. Jarred shoved the thought to the back of his mind. He needed that money. After all, he was the ne’er do well son. How could he stay in his role if he actually had to work? Maybe finally do what you want? No. Not going to happen.
The old man looked almost gleeful as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “First, you must become involved in this company in some capacity. He didn’t work his ass off to make a future for you to have you throw it all away. This is our family’s legacy Jarred, your legacy, and I expect you to be involved. Hell, even if it’s with the stupid Formula One team you love so much. I don’t care. But either way, you're going to work.”