The Worst Best Man(68)
“Elliot does not put this family first. He doesn’t put the business first. He puts himself first.”
“And that’s why I’m counting on you to lead him. Groom him into a Kilbourn man. I’ll be the first to admit that he’s an embarrassment.”
An embarrassment? Aiden suddenly wanted that drink, but he forced himself to ignore it.
“He’s not just an embarrassment. He’s a danger. He wanted to put Boris Donaldson in our company for a reason.” A reason Aiden had yet to discover.
“Elliot is harmless and misguided. I need you to take him under your wing. I need you to do this for me, Aiden. I know it’s not easy. But when my father stepped down, I had to make tough choices, too. It’s part of passing the torch. Someday you’ll ask something of your son.”
Aiden bit back a reply. He was forty fucking years old. His girlfriend wouldn’t even consent to meet his parents, not that he could blame her now. Building a new generation to carry the weight of a family legacy was not on his to-do list.
“I’m about as far away from having a family as I can be,” he told his father.
“Aren’t you seeing someone?”
Aiden lifted an eyebrow. His father always had his fingers on the pulse whether it was business or family. “Where did you hear that?” he asked.
“I know you’ve been spending time in Brooklyn.”
“And?”
“Defensive about her,” Ferris mused. “Just make sure you’re making the responsible choice for the family.”
Aiden bristled. “Dad, you just walked in here and told me you’re leaving your socialite wife for a woman who makes cargo pants.”
“I’ve served my time. I’ve made every decision for the last fifty years with family and responsibility in mind,” Ferris said coldly. “It’s your turn now. And we both know this Baranski woman isn’t the kind of wife a Kilbourn needs by his side.”
Aiden shook his head in disbelief. No, Frankie wasn’t a woman to stand quietly in the wings. She belonged on center stage.
“I’m asking you to give me this, Aiden.” Ferris wasn’t a man who wasted time on please or thank you. “I’m asking you to choose family first.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Aiden stared at the glass on the side table. His father had gone home to get ready for some event or another with Jacqueline. They’d decided to continue their appearances together through the end of the month before quietly parting ways. Jacqueline would go to the no-longer family home in Provence for a few weeks. Ferris would announce his retirement and then whisk Alice away to the home in St. Barths. Everything would blow over while they were gone.
And Aiden would be left to pick up the pieces.
He picked up the glass and took it into the kitchen. It was all dark wood and white marble. A room he rarely if ever used. Every once in a while, if he couldn’t sleep, he’d whip up a grilled ham and Brie. He had a feeling tonight would be one of those nights.
His father had lost his sense of familial duty. The man had confessed that running the company had killed his soul and then turned the keys over to Aiden without a thought as to the effects on his son’s. There was no “there’s more to life than business, son.” No “you’ve done so much for us, you deserve to take a step back and focus on something you care about.” But that was his father: selfish with zero self-examination. Why would Ferris think about others when he paid them to think about him?
He had assistants getting him his afternoon almond toffee snack. He had a personal chef that made his favorite meals in a specifically choreographed rotation. He had a wife who organized his social calendar to include only the most advantageous events. And he had a son who would run the family business while he abandoned all responsibility for a new girlfriend who made fucking windbreakers and cargo pants.
He glared at the glass, channeling all of his anger into the crystal and McCallan. He didn’t feel much better after he shattered the glass in the sink. But at least he hadn’t felt some overwhelming desire to drown his sorrows.
He thought of Frankie. Of the departure from this life that she offered. She was a respite from Kilbourn business. From the constant battle for success. Maybe there was something more productive he could do with his time.
He left the mess for later, grabbed a water from the refrigerator, and headed down the hallway into his private office.
The file was where he’d left it, front and center on his desk. He opened it and propped his bare feet up on the corner of the desk. One of their holdings was a small security firm that did an excellent job quietly digging into people’s lives.
Frankie had twenty-one thousand dollars in student loan debt. Not bad considering the fact that she’d returned to NYU for her MBA. He could make that disappear within hours. He planned to. If he could get the slightest inkling of interest out of her. It was a point of pride that he could take care of those closest to him. But when one of those select few did everything she could to shut him out, he would tread lightly.
Perhaps there was another gift that would be more beneficial to them both? He picked up his desk phone and dialed.
“It’s Aiden Kilbourn. How soon can you make a delivery for me?”
--------
Aiden pushed aside the contract his team of very well-paid lawyers had spent weeks dissecting and moved on to the newest candidates for chief information officer at another holding. For a software firm, their management was woefully antiquated. He fired off an email to the current CEO saying he found it hard to believe the only candidates for the position were white men over the age of fifty. He suggested they restart the search with a more “interesting and energetic” crop of candidates.