Conklin's Corruption (#3) (Conklin's Trilogy) (11 page)

***

My grandparents took my brothers and me to mass every Sunday.  Sometimes my mother would join us, but she’d normally be doing her own thing.  RJ was never around, and my mother would drop us off Saturday night so she could hang out with the other trophy wives in the city.

Mother of the year.

Which was why I almost had a heart attack when I saw RJ walking down the aisle.  How did he not start burning the second he stepped foot on holy ground?

“You didn’t say RJ was coming?” I whispered to Becca.

She looked behind us to see him and my mother walking towards us.  “I told you your parents were coming.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you meant RJ.”

“Well, he’s your dad.  I didn’t think I needed to specify.  Normally parents mean mom and dad.”

“Hi Tyler!” my mother squealed as she wrapped her arms around me.  “I’ve been looking forward to this all week!  Becca, it’s so good to see you again!” she added, moving her grasp on me to Becca.

RJ gave my hand a firm shake.  I was still pissed to hell at him for the entire Chino thing.

“When’s the last time you set foot in a church?” I asked RJ.

He gave me his damn smirk.  I hated that smirk.  Becca was so kind to point out I share the same expression.  I think she’s crazy.  RJ and I are nothing alike.

“I’d have to say… your grandfather’s funeral.”

He moved past me and reached for Becca to give her a hug.  I hated him touching her, but seeing her attempt to hide her discomfort with his embrace made me feel better.  I automatically reached for her hand when he let go then pulled her to the chair on my other side.  She gave me a ‘really?’ look, but squeezed my hand with reassurance.  She thought my jealousy with RJ was ridiculous but understood I needed her affirmation that she was mine.  I pulled her hand to my lips, silently thanking her for not scolding me further.

“Mary, RJ, I’m so glad you both could join us for the service!”  Missy said as she made her way back to her seat in front of us.  She was busy mingling with others from the congregation. I suspected that was a traditional task for her; my grandmother used to do the same thing.  Max followed behind her, holding his hand out for me to shake.

“I hope you’re ready for the golf course after brunch,” he said, giving my hand a firm squeeze.  I nodded my head.  I couldn’t tell my father-in-law no, especially when he was Max Stine.  So much for getting home early.

***

Brunch was… boring.  All the women talked about were flowers, cakes, party favors, colors… blah, blah, blah.  Poor Becs.  I could tell she was uncomfortable for most of the conversation.  Especially when she found out my mother was the one to send our engagement pictures to the
Chicago
Tribune
.  She smacked my thigh under the table when I began to scold my mother.  I didn’t understand; Becca was floored because of that.  Why would she get embarrassed when I yelled at my mother for doing something that irritated the hell out of her?  There are some things I won’t ever understand about women.

I was thankful to be out on the golf course, even if I had to share a golf cart with RJ.  I planned on giving him a piece of my mind about Chino talking to Becca and how he wanted her to make his plans. Once we were all set to go, Michael, Becca’s brother, and Max lead the way in their cart to the first tee box.  It was about a ten minute ride according to the golf course attendant.

“You did pretty good at brunch with all that wedding talk,” RJ said.

I huffed under my breath.  I mainly kept my mouth shut.

“You should try not to snap at your mother though.  She gets really bothered when you don’t treat her well.”

“You’re one to talk,” I sneered.

He shrugged his shoulders.  “I know. I’m working on it.  She’s in a much better mood when I’m nice, and she’s very… giving,” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes.  “I don’t want to hear about that.”

“Just thought I’d let you in on the secret.  Women put out a lot more if you’re nice to them, act like you care.”

“The difference between you and me is I actually care about my future wife,” I snapped.  “I don’t pretend to care.  She’s the only thing that matters to me on this Godforsaken planet.  I care so much that I’ll kill you if Chino comes anywhere near her again.”

RJ whipped his head in my direction, acting shocked by the change in conversation.

“Oh don’t act like you didn’t know.  He met with her on Friday,” I grumbled.  “Since you delayed making his plans for him.”

“I didn’t know.  I have the plans already drawn.  He knows that.”  RJ said in confusion.

My jaw ticked.  “Then why the hell was he meeting with Becca?”

RJ blinked then looked back in front of him.  “I have no idea.”

“RJ, we need to be done with him!  He’s trying to weasel his way into this company.  I won’t let Grandpa’s name be ran through the mud because of him.  We need to cut ties.”

“Tyler, that’s ludicrous.  You of all people know how much we need his business,” he scolded.

“Money isn’t everything.  I know that’s a hard concept for you to understand.”

“I know you don’t believe me, but I do care about my father’s name and this company.  I care about leaving it to you and your brothers so you can leave it to your children someday.  I’m not a money hungry monster,” he said with all seriousness. 

I let out a superficial laugh.  He was really putting on a show now.

“I’m serious, Tyler.”  His tone was tempered with sincerity, and my chest tightened.  I glanced at him, not sure what to say or how to deal with the uncomfortable feeling that was washing over me.

“I’ll talk to him about meeting with Becca; let him know that we’re the only ones he deals with in the company, no one else.”

“And the subdivisions?” I murmured as though it was a dirty word.

“It’s a lot of money to pass down.”  RJ stopped the cart and turned his full attention towards me.  “But I suppose we’re doing fine without that side of Chino’s business.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, waiting for the catch.  When our eyes met, I was struck with an image I’d never seen before on RJ—honesty.  I swallowed hard, unsure if I should believe the gut feeling that was running through my insides.

“Are you gentlemen ready?” Michael asked, coming up to my side of the golf cart.

The first nine holes were awful.  Having to sit with RJ the entire time, constantly trying to deal with his act of being a normal father was making my skin crawl.  What exactly was he getting at?  That we were normal?  Was he trying to convince Becca’s family that we actually shared the same dynamics?  Max Stine wasn’t an idiot; he would be able to see right through RJ’s attempts.  And since when did RJ care?  He didn’t care if our business partners knew how he treated us.  We were out to make money, not run some mom-and-pop company.

“Let’s have a drink, shall we?” Max said, patting my back as I stood from the cart.  I think he sensed I was tense and overly irritated with my father.  A quick drink or two on the turn might help me relax a little.

“Yeah, sounds great.”

We walked into the dimly lit bar that only had a few other golfers sharing a pitcher of beer.  They must have been done with their game, and I was jealous.  I had to endure nine more holes with dear old dad.

“Can I get a Rob Roy for both Michael and myself, and put these gentlemen’s drinks on my tab,” Max said, taking off his hat to sit down at the nearest table.

“Thanks, Stine. Next round’s on me.  I’ll have a Whiskey Sour. Do you want the same, Tyler?”

I nodded my head and took a seat next to Max.  Since when did RJ know what I liked to drink on the golf course?

“You did pretty good out there Tyler.  I’d love to see you on the baseball field.  Do you ever play recreationally?” Max asked.

“Thanks.  I haven’t played since college.”  Saying those words made me realize how much I missed playing.  I loved baseball.  While growing up, the game kept me calm.  I have no idea where I would have been if I didn’t have the solace of my leather glove and the sound of gravel under my cleats.

“Tyler had a pretty good swing,” RJ intruded, bringing our drinks to the table.  “He could have gotten into the Majors if we would’ve let him.”

I resisted glaring at RJ, not wanting to cause a scene in front of my future father and brother-in-law. 

“Why didn’t you play?” Michael asked.  “Being a professional athlete would be the coolest job ever.”

“School is more important than jumping around the Minor Leagues hoping to get your call to the Majors.  There would be no stability in that.  And what if you got hurt?  Then what would you have fallen back on?” RJ said as a matter of fact.

My teeth clenched as I burned a hole in the table with my eyes.  I felt RJ put his hand on my shoulder, and it took all of me to not rip his fingers from the fabric.  How dare he say that about my baseball career? Or I should say lack of a baseball career.  Why wouldn’t he tell the truth, that he wanted me to do the finances for his company instead of fulfilling my dreams?

“Wise decision, Tyler,” Max said, lifting his glass.  “Making the right choices for your future isn’t easy when your heart is telling you otherwise.”

RJ lifted his glass along with Max.  “Tyler wasn’t very happy with me for steering him in this direction, but I’m sure he’s thankful now.”

I snorted, raising my eyes from the table.  RJ took a drink, his eyes never leaving mine.  After he swallowed, he said, “You’d never have met Becca if you continued with your baseball fantasy.”

I gulped, feeling like the wind had gotten knocked out of me.  When he said that, for whatever reason it felt like a low blow.  RJ’s comment felt too personal, too involved in my life.  Using my relationship with Becca to make himself look like the good guy was outrageous. 

“Becca is the only good thing I’ve gotten out of this company,” I said in a low voice.

RJ smirked.  “Keep telling yourself that, Tyler.  You’re pockets wouldn’t be nearly as deep if you hadn’t come to work for me.”

That was a lie.  The majority of my money came from reading the stocks.  My start up money for my investments was from the Conklin firm, but nothing since that.  Maybe if he knew my bank account was a lot fuller than his he wouldn’t be so damn arrogant.  There was only one reason why I didn’t say screw you and leave my trust fund.

“I didn’t come to work for you; I came to work for my grandfather.”

RJ set his drink down, moving his eyes away from mine.  For a split second he looked wounded.  “God rest his soul,” RJ said quietly.  “Who knows where we would be now if he were still around.”

I didn’t like RJ’s tone.  He said it as though my grandfather did nothing for the company, as if RJ ran a more successful business than his father.

“Probably in more cities,” I snapped.

Max cleared his throat while Michael kept his drink to his lips, awkwardly watching our tiff.

“Robert was a great guy.  I’m sorry for both of your losses.  I always enjoyed doing business with him, even if it was for a short amount of time.  Shall we cheers to Robert Senior?”  Max said, attempting to hold the peace. 

You could tell Max was good at deflecting conflict.  He always seemed to sit in the middle of situations.  That’s probably why he was on everyone’s good side and well respected in this city.

RJ grabbed his drink and held it in the air.  “Why not. 
Papa
would be proud of his grandson.  Helping run a successful, multi-location business, about to actually marry a beautiful and successful woman.  Only if he could be here to share the moments with us, right Tyler?” RJ said.  Even though his smirk was back on his face, anger shown through his eyes.

The dumbass was always jealous of his father.  Why couldn’t he just be grateful?  From what I knew, RJ messed up numerous times and my grandfather always bailed him out.  Robert Senior paved the way for RJ, and the fact that RJ was a huge asshole about all Papa did for him fueled my anger even more.

“Tyler, why don’t you join me for a cigar outside?” Max asked while reaching in his pocket.  “I know how much you love my Cubans.”  He stood from the table, silently ordering me to follow.  “Please excuse us, gentlemen.”

RJ tipped his drink in Max’s direction and turned to talk to Michael.

Standing and grabbing my drink, I followed Max onto the deck.  It was warmer than usual outside, and I was cursing the strict dress code of slacks instead of shorts.  I set my drink on the ledge and leaned on my elbows over the railing, staring out at the greenery.

Max set an ashtray in between us on the ledge and pulled out the cigars.  He took one in his hand and left the other next to the ashtray.  “Looked like you could use a break,” Max said as he attempted to light his cigar.

I tilted my head backwards and closed my eyes briefly then reached for the cigar.  A good Cuban would help ease the tension from my asshat of a father.

Max handed me his lighter once he got his cigar going then proceeded to lean against one of the pillars.  “RJ stresses you out, doesn’t he?”