Читать книгу Hooked - Jane May - Страница 11

Todd parked his Hummer next to his dad’s Ferrari which sat a safe distance away from his mother’s Jaguar convertible and the family’s Porsche SUV. The only vehicle missing was that of his sister, Carolina. In one year, two months and eleven days, she’d earn her driver’s license. Todd wondered what kind of car his father would buy that spoiled metal-mouthed velociraptor.

He found his parents sitting outside by the pool. His mother, Ashley, struggled to maneuver her artificially enhanced lips into something vaguely resembling a smile. The end effect, as far as Todd was concerned, made her look rather like a chimpanzee.

“My baby boy!” she exclaimed, bounding toward him with open arms.

“Whoa, Ma, take it easy.”

In some circles, his mother’s new rack could be mistaken for a dangerous weapon.

His father was busy talking on the phone. Avoiding eye contact, Stanford Hollings acknowledged his son’s appearance by a dismissive tilt of his palm.

With some ten thousand luxury condos under his and his partners’ belts, this former ambulance-chasing attorney (born Stanley Holacheck from the Bronx) had done very well for himself. Todd aspired to be like his dad—minus the hair-plugs, dye job and double chin, of course—mainly because in South Florida, people likened highly successful real estate developers to rock stars.

“Tomorrow night’s free, right, Ashley?” Stanford asked his wife.

“Actually no, dear. We’ve got that Sierra Club benefit.”

“Just what I need—environmental terrorists in black tie.”

“But I thought you said it was good public relations to keep them out of your hair,” she said.

“They got our money already, so who cares? We’re going to have dinner with Carlos Lagosto about a possible deal.”

“But I just bought a new Michael Kors gown and—”

“Forget about it,” Stanford snapped. “You’ve been overruled and the case is closed.”

Everyone on the payroll—family and employees alike—knew that once a Hollings verdict had been reached, the case was closed with no chance for appeal.

“Well, I suppose I could wear the gown at that Republican fund-raiser we’ve got next month,” mumbled Ashley to deaf ears.

Todd sat down on a chaise lounge next to his father.

“So what’s up, Pops?”

“What’s up? I’ll tell you what’s up. I heard you were a no-show at the site yesterday.”

“But it was Saturday…”

“I don’t give a shit. It’s still a work day. I intend for you, as my representative, to make an appearance whenever and wherever I tell you to.”

“But—”

“No buts. If you think you can waltz right up the corporate ladder without working your ass off, well, here’s a major news flash for you, sonny boy. Forget about it.”

“You’re being a bit harsh, Stanford,” said Ashley. “Go easy on my baby boy.”

“Did you ever consider the notion that if you’d stop treating him as an infant, your so-called baby boy might become more responsible?”

“Hey, hold on,” said Todd. “I graduated from college.”

“By the skin of your straightened and bleached teeth.”

“I’ve got my own apartment.”

“That I purchased. In a building that I own.”

“Jesus, I have a job.”

“A job at MY company! A position which, at any moment, could be terminated. I don’t want anybody talking behind my back about the boss’s son slacking off and spending more time cruising the Web for porn than he does trying to hustle up business. I’ve got plenty of other kids who may not have had an Ivy League education like yours, but are willing to put in the hours to make their mark.”

“Hey, that’s not exactly fair, Dad. I’m getting real close on that deal with Gustavo Tinnie.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’ll tell you what.” Stanford Hollings positioned his face right in his son’s. “You convince that old fart to sell his property and we might just be talking about a whole new ball game.”