Mr. Mitchell Billionaires' Club Book 2 - Raylin Marks Page 0,157

hall that was lined with family pictures from across the decades.

“Don’t worry about it,” I heard Avery say. “Go back to baking whatever you’re spoiling Addy with tonight.”

“You ever see this guy fight before?” Larry asked, pointing at his television after tossing some peanuts into his mouth and casually leaning back on the sofa.

I crossed my ankle over my knee and loosened my stiff position. “No,” I said, studying the black and white highlight reel of two boxers.

“That’s Sugar Ray Robinson,” he said with a knowing laugh.

“He’s a bit before my time, I guess,” I answered. Boxing had never been a sport I’d regularly watched, so I had nothing to contribute to this conversation.

“Do you realize this guy fought over two hundred and fifteen times?” he asked with a laugh. “With only two losses and one draw.”

“Holy cow,” I said, refraining from cursing. “Are you kidding me?” I was no expert, but that sounded like a hell of a record.

“When this guy turned pro in 1940, he was eighty-five and zero with sixty-nine knockouts.”

“Dang, man,” I said.

“He was only nineteen years old.” Larry laughed again, casually having more peanuts. “This guy knocked out more people before he was nineteen years old than most fighters in their whole career.”

“That’s pretty incredible. What was his professional record?”

He looked at me, and his forehead creased in humor. “A hundred twenty-eight—one and two,” he prattled off. “The guy actually retired in two weight classes, then came out of retirement and took another damn title,” he said with a laugh.

I was settling in some with the man and understanding why Addy enjoyed his company. He was more likable than I’d imagined. I could see why Addy’s relationship with her grandparents was so crucial to Avery—especially since she didn’t have much in the way of a family on her own. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long before I saw a shadow making its way down the hall. Derek stepped into the living room, gave me a nod, and took the recliner situated next to his dad.

“Best fighter right there,” Derek said, reclining and eying the television. “What’s up, Jim?” he asked. “Nice suit. I’ve got some expensive ones like that too.”

Larry was silent as he looked over at Derek. “You just now waking up?” he asked. “What time you get in last night, bud?”

Fucking bud? I thought, growing more irritated every second, seeing this idiot wearing his hoodie and sagging jeans.

“Late, but I was at Rick’s place.”

“Rick?” Larry asked. “Is that the guy who owns that dealership?”

Derek eyed me, smiled, then looked at his dad. “Yep,” he said. “They got some badass trucks that came in this week.”

“No kidding,” Larry said dismissively.

Unlike Derek’s father, I wasn’t dismissing shit at this point. The fucker had been out all goddamn night and was just now waking up? Rick, my ass. Derek’s bullshit may have manipulated this family, but where he’d lost Larry’s attention, he’d gained mine.

“Yeah, they’re pretty legit, like the truck I got.”

“What’s the name of the dealership?” I questioned, knowing my company had acquired a few in Anaheim years ago, seeing their potential in this location.

“Rendell’s,” Derek said, our eyes locking. “Why?” he asked, settling into his chair like the dick he was. “You interested in trading in your million-dollar Aston Martin for a nice truck?”

“I don’t think so,” I answered. “Rick Rendell. I’ve met that man,” I said as Larry looked back and forth between Derek and me as the tension in the room grew.

“Old man Rendell, you mean?” Derek asked.

“No, we acquired that dealership and another a few years back. Interesting that you know Rick,” I said. What I wanted to say was that I knew Rick had a family, and the multiple times we’d met over dinners, this man never once struck me as the type to hang out with the piece of shit that was now trying to stare my ass down.

“Well, that’s my boy,” Derek said.

“Nice,” I responded, and then Avery walked out with Addison, running to her papa first and then me—not to the prick who started to argue with Avery about what time we got there even though he was asleep when we did.

“You ready to have fun with your papa this weekend?” I asked Addy.

“Lots of fun.”

“Get over here and come say hi to your daddy,” Derek said, leaning forward in his recliner.

“Hey, Dad,” Addy said, then looked at me. “Bye, Jim.”

I watched how the once-calm atmosphere of the room became more and more toxic after Derek had entered