Boy Issues - Morticia Knight Page 0,20

want you to do?”

Silver fought to keep his expression unreadable. “Okay. I’ll give you a call when I have the list and an idea on what the cost will be.”

Carl narrowed his eyes. “Receipts. I want receipts.”

Silver ran his tongue along his top teeth. “Of course. As always, I’ll make them available to you.”

Carl turned on his heel then stomped out of the garage through the side door that was connected to the tiny parking area. The lot could hold maybe three vehicles without them being stacked, and his Mustang always took up one spot. Silver didn’t move an inch, stayed in the same position until Carl had driven away. He willed his thundering heart to slow and his blood pressure to even out.

Maybe it was time to get more serious about getting his own garage.

Chapter Seven

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? You’ve barely been in the office for an hour!”

Donovan’s brother trailed him as he made his way to the elevator. He’d only come into the office at all to sign some paperwork and speak with the very client who’d liked his designs so he could artfully explain why they couldn’t be used. The irony is that he’d won an award for those sketches. Yet, that meant nothing to his family.

He was a CEO. Nothing more. God forbid his brother be outdone. Couldn’t have that. Donovan had never understood why there wasn’t room for him at the design table as well.

Donovan mashed the call button as if that would somehow speed up the elevator. He was about ten seconds away from tearing down the twenty flights worth of stairs.

“Did you hear what I said, Donovan?”

Donovan whirled around to face his mealy-mouthed brother. “The entire Wilshire District heard what you said. What’s the matter? Afraid you might have to communicate intelligibly with a client if I’m not here?”

Lawrence moved into Donovan’s space and growled, “I swear to the living Christ, if mom hadn’t manipulated father by insisting you run this company, you wouldn’t be anywhere near this firm. You’re a fucking embarrassment.”

Donovan fought the rise of emotion clogging his throat at the mention of their mother. She was the only member of his family who’d ever cared about him, who’d made him feel loved. Not even his grandparents gave a shit about whether he was around or not. He could jump in the ocean, then after they’d finished holding the champagne celebration, they’d forget he’d ever existed.

“I’m failing to see how mother could’ve manipulated him from beyond the grave.”

Lawrence sneered. “You know damn well he worshipped her, would do anything she asked. Even if she never said it to his face, it was her last wish. The old fool wouldn’t have gone against that if his life had depended on it.”

Donovan’s eyes flicked up and he gazed past his oblivious brother. Their father was approaching them with a frown, and Donovan braced himself for Office Blow-up, Part Two.

“Ah, father.” Donovan broke into a wide smile. “You’re just in time. Lawrence was sharing his thoughts regarding the astuteness your decisions regarding the firm’s hierarchy.”

Lawrence huffed, “Shut up, will you? Just shut up.”

Donovan wagged a finger at him. “There you go using your big boy words again. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Why don’t you both shut up!” Their father’s voice boomed. “What the hell is going on here? Does it ever let up with you two?” He lowered his voice to a growl. “You’re both damn lucky there aren’t any clients in here right now.” He regarded Lawrence. “It’s bad enough I have to put up with his antics, now you’re behaving like an ass too?”

Donovan pretended as if his father’s words weren’t a punch to the gut. He grunted to himself. Why he wasn’t used to being the family joke by now, he couldn’t imagine. What he should do is walk away, but instead of it being for the afternoon, it would be forever.

Too bad about the gazillions of dollars I’d lose if I did that.

Donovan sighed. He’d be their prisoner forever. At least he had booze, tail and race cars to get him through so he wouldn’t go batshit crazy. He scrubbed his face with both hands, his thoughts immediately landing on Silver.

One year. The two-word phrase had become an unwelcome mantra.

“What are you sighing about?” His father regarded him with an even deeper frown than he’d marched up with. “And where are you going? It’s not even lunch yet.”

Donovan really needed to fine tune his stealth skills. “I have