The Hunt Masquerade - Milly Taiden Page 0,3
crushed his fountain pen, but dropped it on the desk in the nick of time. It cracked, leaking thick blue ink all over the financial reports that were ruining his day.
“We do not need anything from the Winslows.”
Marlon rolled his eyes. “Stop being like Dad, you twit. We are Winslows too. So, we got cheated out of the will a million years ago. We’re all related. Shit, we’re family. Those Winslows you’re all so fond of hating are our second cousins and great-great-uncles. I’m sure if we go to them now, they would be more than willing to invest in our branch of the family tree. Let bygones be bygones. After all, we’re in the same hoteliers’ business. There’s plenty of space for all of us.”
Rush pursed his lips at his brother, crossing his arms. “No.”
“Look,” Marlon took a long pull of his whiskey, “whoever took the family jewels made off with a lot of money. Enough money that George thought it was worth dealing his firstborn sons out of his will. So that begs the question. Where did they hide the jewels? Where is all the cash?”
“You know the family legend as well as I do. They spent it on a lavish lifestyle. It’s all gone. Now we have nothing to show for our family legacy but a handful of failing hotels and this old house.”
Though it was still a beautiful mansion, a throwback to the turn of the century architecture, it was insanely expensive to upkeep the hundred-bedroom home.
“We have at least forty hotels nationwide. That is not a handful. Stop dramatizing.”
“We’re down to thirty. I sold about ten of the hotels two years ago to get you out of the legal trouble you got into with the pyramid scheme.” Rush cringed with the memory of it. That failed business venture and been too cult-like for comfort. It had taken a lot of time and money to get Marlon out of that situation.
“Oh, yes, the not-so-lucrative business of selling pills to prevent male-pattern baldness. I really thought it would be a good idea.”
“You always think your ideas are good. I don’t know how many times I have to repeat myself. You don’t have a head for business or numbers.”
“Harsh, but true.” Marlon took another pull from his drink. “But what I lack in talent or intellect, I more than make up in charm.”
Rush shook his head, a heavy sigh escaping him. Should he tell his brother how deluded he was? Probably not. Rush was used to fixing everything for his little brother. Hell, for the whole family. His parents lived way beyond the means they had, but they relied on Rush to make it all work.
He was getting sick of it, but mostly, he was just tired. Exhausted down to his core. He needed something. Something good that was just for him. Just so that he could remember what it was like to be his own man untethered by obligations.
“So,” Marlon asked with a chipper tone and wide smile, “what are our options?”
“We need to sell off all of the hotels. Pay off Spike, and maybe we will have enough left over to hold us through until we find a job.” As he spoke, Rush felt his stomach churn. He didn’t want to sell the hotels. He didn’t want to find another job.
He wanted to keep running Jensen Hotels and try as hard as he could to leave the business better than he had found it for the next generation of the Jensen line. Hopefully, the next batch of Jensens would be more business savvy.
Marlon shook his head. “These hotels have been in the family for generations. We can’t sell them. We can’t just hand them off to strangers without trying to talk to the Winslows.”
“Not happening,” Rush ground out through clenched teeth.
“Well, you’re wrong. I might not have a head for business, but you’re nothing but a stubborn head. Jeremy Winslow is a good man. He’s the one running Winslow Hotels now. He is different than the others. I’m telling you. If we approach him with a merger idea, he’ll be amenable.”
Rush studied his brother. They looked very much alike. They both had the same shade of green eyes and light brown hair, but Rush was sure the similarities ended there. For one, Rush had good sense.
“A merger?” he asked, crossing his arms. “What, like we put our hotels under the umbrella of Winslow Hotels? No. Absolutely not. That would be admitting defeat.”
“More than selling?” Marlon questioned.