I shake my head in response. “No, but I’m sure he’ll know exactly why I’m doing it the moment he finds out.”
Sawyer waves his hand. “Who cares what he thinks? You have the advantage of doing your renovationsafterhis. Now you know what you are competing with. You just have to top his design.”
“That’s true. Go spend a night in his hotel to see what you need to beat,” Colton says.
“That’s not a bad idea.” It will give me the edge I need to stick it to him once and for all. I guess there is a benefit in him doing it first.
I look across the room at the brunette I know I want to bring home tonight. Instead of staring at me, which she has been all night, she is now laughing at something Sebastian is whispering in her ear.
I swallow hard, trying not to reveal my frustration. I know it’s what he wants. He is always aware of my desires just so he can swoop in and ruin them for me.
This man lives to make my life hell.
Suddenly, I’m no longer in the mood to be here. I just want to get my plans in action so I can take the motherfucker down.
“I’m outta here, guys.” I slap the table lightly as I stand.
I reach into my pocket and grab two one-hundred-dollar bills and throw them on the table.
“Walker, text me your sister’s information tonight. I’m moving forward with my renovations immediately. I don’t have time to wait.”
Before any one of them can answer, I take long strides away from the table until the April breeze hits my body.
I text my driver, Aaron, to let him know I’m going to walk home tonight.
I’m rarely outside. I go from one hotel to the next, one meeting to another, never getting time to take in the feeling being outdoors gives me. Plus, now that the bitter cold of winter is over, we are starting to see the first signs of spring.
The walk from the bar we were at in Midtown to Hudson Yards, where I live, is about thirty minutes. Once I turn onto West 33rd Street, I know I’m about halfway there.
My mind keeps going back to what my father said when I told him that I was going to do major renovations to our luxury hotels.
“My hotels are fine the way they are now,” he said as he poured his hundred-dollar glass of Macallan. “Don’t fix what ain’t broken.”
His words have weighed heavily on me since our conversation a couple of weeks ago. There is still a part of me that doesn’t fully trust my own decisions.
Sometimes, I feel like a fraud in a suit. Just a lucky son of a bitch who inherited a string of hotels that I will one day run into the ground. As the oldest of four kids, I knew this was the hand I was dealt. I was destined to take over his business. But my father is a stubborn man and has never been willing to listen to anyone else’s opinions.
His revenue began dropping years ago. I suspect that’s why he retired and handed it over to me. He knew something was slipping from his control and didn’t want to stick around to be the reason the company began to fall apart.
Now it’s up to me to save his mess.
He refuses to believe that the world is changing. The things that his generation values are not what the generations after him value, but he won’t admit it. His generation wanted to wine and dine where the celebrities did. They were about staying somewhere that had five-star service. Today, it’s all about what your social media account looks like, which means the right ambiance to get that perfect picture.
Change is not something that comes easy to him. Unless it’s women we’re talking about, but I prefer not to think about that part of my father.
The line of green trees and bushes lets me know that I’ve arrived at my building in Hudson Yards. I walk through the front door, into the lobby, where Fred, one of my favorite security guards, is on duty.
“Hello, Mr. Bertini,” Fred greets me in his maroon uniform with his familiar smile.
I nod my head. “Fred. Have a nice night.”
The strip of elevators to my right is for the other residents. I turn left and then make an immediate right to my private elevator to the penthouse. Though I can use the main elevators to get to my place, I much prefer my privacy.
I swipe my card, and the elevator speeds to the top, opening directly in front of my door. As soon as I walk inside, I know it’s going to be another long night of fitful sleep.
I can feel the unsettled part of my soul that comes alive when I’m alone. There’s only so much I can do to distract myself from the feeling. Once I’m home, all alone, there’s no running from it.
I could take a pill or have another drink, but I know that is a slippery slope. I just have to accept the fact that this level of pressure and stress is my new life. The weight of the company rests on my shoulders, and there’s no going back. I’m the only one of my siblings willing to take over dad’s legacy.