Wicked (Somerset University #2) - Ruby Vincent Page 0,3
chocolate is mean to your face,” Landon said matter-of-factly. “I want an apple.”
“Who is Henrietta?” I asked.
“My mother.”
“Of course,” I muttered under my breath. This is what happens when you send your kid to a preschool for the rich. You get four-year-olds watching their complexion and calling their mother by their first name.
“You can have all the apples you want, Landon.”
He gave me a million-dollar smile. “Thank you.”
Adam took my hand and led me to the carpet. He climbed in my lap and happily went back to coloring with his little group.
I pressed a kiss to his mop of curls. He could have as many friends in bow ties as his heart desired. Seeing my son happy reminded me that no matter the craziness going on in my life, at least I was doing one thing right.
JAXSON
“Go right through, sir.”
“Don’t call me ‘sir,’ Paunch,” I said. “It’s Jaxson.”
The security guard flashed me a sheepish look. “Sorry, sir. Mr. Meyer heard me call you Jaxson last week and wrote me up. I can’t lose this job.”
I swallowed my irritation. Cursing out Daniel Meyer wouldn’t do any good for my probation.
“I get it,” I said. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s cool.”
I saluted and continued on to the elevators. I dropped my smile as the doors shut.
I wish Dad would get rid of that fucker.
But a wish is all it would be. Daniel Meyer, vice president of Interstellar Records, had been haunting this place long before I was born. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
My phone went off in my pocket. I moved the food to one hand and fished it out. I knew who it was before I checked the screen.
“On my way, Papa VZ.”
“You know, Dad or Father would do just fine.” His amusement bled through the reprimand.
“Nah. A man of your stature needs a proper title befitting your fatherhood.”
He barked a laugh. “A man of my stature also needs black coffee, a bacon cheddar wrap, and an everything bagel.”
“Got it.”
“Did you also get the bottled water and Cobb salad?”
“Oops. Must have slipped my mind.”
“Jaxson.” The reprimand was clear this time.
“Papa.”
He heaved a sigh. “I had a feeling you’d forget, so I sent Gwen to get Daniel’s order. You’ve certainly helped me see the wisdom in having two assistants.”
“You gotta stop calling me your assistant, old man. These people won’t respect me by the time I kick your ass out and take over.”
“How quickly a man of my stature devolved into ‘old man.’ That’s why my plan is to make sure they don’t respect you.”
“Crafty fucker.”
He cracked up. “Get your ass up here with my food while I’m still in the mood to give you good news.”
Dad hung up.
I put my phone away, chuckling. If Meyer didn’t like the staff being informal with me, he one hundred percent blew his shit at the way Dad and I talked to each other. It was just our thing. My dad was a tattooed, leather-wearing, bourbon-swilling, ex-guitarist/songwriter who had enough sense to funnel his royalties into business, but not enough sense to refrain from dating the talent.
He found Mom in a dive bar, signed her band two weeks later, and then got her pregnant five months after that. He liked to call me his happy accident after a few too many. But I knew he loved Mom and the picture-perfect life the three of us had for a short time. I didn’t question why he never got remarried.
I stepped out onto the silent top floor. This was Levi Van Zandt’s domain. This is where he signed the biggest names and brokered the best deals in the industry.
And soon it’ll be mine.
Daniel and Dad cut off mid-conversation when I walked in.
“I know y’all were talking about me.”
Dad laughed. “That’s what we do all day, my boy. Sit around talking about you.”
“He admits it.”
Dad patted the desk, demanding his food. I handed it over and then plopped down in the chair and put my feet on the desk.
“Off,” said Dad.
“Make me.”
A sharp intake of breath sounded on my right. Dad just smacked my feet off and went back to eating.
“Hello, Jaxson,” said Meyer, disapproval laced his tone.
Of course it did. His three spawn were perfect, smiling automatons who “yes, sir” and “no, sir” him to death. If Daniel and Dad did talk about me all day, it’d be to argue about my manners.
Dad was the president, director, and CEO of Interstellar Records, but everyone had their second-in-command. Enter Daniel Meyer, vice president and the man who was with