The Worst Best Man(67)

Only she wasn’t cruel. She wasn’t disinterested. She was… careful. And maybe she had the right idea to remain distrustful.

The buzzer to his door sounded, and Aiden frowned. Very few people were cleared to this floor. His mother would have called first.

He crossed to the door and found his father on the other side of it.

Ferris Kilbourn strolled inside, hands in his pockets in a deceptively casual stance. Ferris and his wife, Elliot’s mother, lived two blocks over in a stunning two-story penthouse. But despite the proximity, they rarely made social calls.

“This is a surprise,” Aiden said, closing the door behind him.

“I thought it would be good to talk away from the office,” Ferris told him, perusing the space as if he were a bored guest in a museum.

“Would you like a drink?” Aiden offered.

“Macallan?”

“Of course.”

Aiden led the way into the living room and poured a glass. He hesitated and then poured a second. He handed one to his father and deliberately took a seat in one of the club chairs.

Ferris unbuttoned his jacket and sat down on the couch, stretching his arm across the back of it. Aiden had gotten his looks from his mother, all dark hair and blue eyes. His father had the gingery hair of his Irish heritage, most of it gone now. What remained was trimmed short. He was clean shaven and always, always in a suit. His father was the type of man who wore a tie on Christmas morning. And not a silly Santa tie, either. He preferred Hermes.

Aiden waited while his father gathered his thoughts. Neither appreciated the banality of small talk, and there was power in silence.

“I’m thinking of retiring,” Ferris announced without preamble.

“Thinking about?” For his father to verbalize such a bombshell, he’d gone past the considering stage and into planning and implementing. But retirement shouldn’t be in Ferris’s vocabulary.

Ferris eyed his glass. “I’ve given my life to this company. We’ve achieved something your great-grandfather and grandfather couldn’t have envisioned.”

“And you’re comfortable just walking away from it?” Aiden asked. He sat his untouched drink on the walnut side table and rested his elbows on his knees. His hands dangled between his knees.

“Jacqueline and I are getting a divorce,” Ferris said, dropping the next boom as though he were casually commenting on the weather.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve met someone else. My relationship with your stepmother has run its course. We’ve already spoken to our attorneys and are letting them hash out a settlement.”

“Dad, what the hell is going on?”

Ferris sipped his scotch and sighed. “It might be a mid-life crisis, but son, this is the most fun I’ve had in my life. I think it’s time I had some.”

“I’m happy for you,” Aiden said. He probably was. He wasn’t entirely sure. He’d never developed more than a superficial relationship with his stepmother. And she’d rightfully favored her own son over Aiden. He couldn’t say that he’d be sorry that he would no longer suffer through her incessant to-do lists that she nattered on about.

“I have to go to the salon and then the dermatologist. Then it’s lunch with so and so’s club. Soul Cycle afterwards. Then there’s the board meeting for such and such. I just don’t see how I’m going to find the time to have dinner. People ask me how I do it. They just don’t realize that I’m hanging by a thread!” Always a martyr.

“Her name is Alice, and she’s a clothing designer. Not high fashion but outdoorsy, athletic lines. Smart, vivacious. We’re going to take the boat down the coast and cruise the Bahamas this spring and summer.”

Aiden made a mental note to contact the family law firm immediately and have an iron clad prenup drafted before Alice became a Kilbourn.

Aiden stared at the man who looked like his father but sounded like a complete stranger. However, as Ferris had taught him, it didn’t pay to show surprise or confusion in any situation. Even if his father was losing his damn mind.

“Congratulations,” Aiden said.

Ferris raised his glass in a toast. “I’ve built an empire. I think it’s time I started enjoying the perks.”

Mid-life crisis? Or perhaps an undetected brain tumor? Maybe a visit with the concierge doctor his father favored was in order.

“You certainly deserve to use your time as you see fit,” Aiden responded.

“I wouldn’t be doing any of this if I wasn’t one-hundred percent confident in your ability to step into my shoes as CEO. You’ve been groomed your entire life for this, Aiden. I know you won’t let me down.”

“What about Elliot?” Aiden asked.

“I know you’re not pleased with how I handled him over the Barbados situation—”

“He abducted someone, Dad.”

Ferris at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. “It was a family matter that got out of hand.”

“It was a felony no matter where it happened.”

“He’s always wanted to be you, son. And, unfortunately for him, he’ll never be. You can’t blame him for being rash with his decisions living in your shadow. He acts out because he’s not you, and I can’t see punishing him for that fact.”