“You like to call yourself a self-made man,” she said with a hint of judgment, which was more than Jack had ever heard her use, “but I know where you got the money to kick your commercial real estate venture off the ground. You broke your father’s heart when you stole your mother’s heirloom jewelry.”
“She wanted me to have it,” he countered.
“To hand it down to your children,” she said in a stern tone. “Not to hawk at a pawn shop.”
“I didn’t take it to a pawn shop. I sold it to an antiquities house that deals with fine jewelry.”
“Same difference. Whether they lay in a smudged glass case or on a bed of fine velvet, you sold the things your mother held dear. The pieces she hoped you’d give to your future daughters one day.”
“I did give it to Georgie and Adalia in a way,” he said in a pompous tone. “I invested it into a successful business.”
“A business you purposely kept your daughters out of, although you actually did them a favor with that decision,” Dottie said. “And if your business is so successful, why did you go to your father on several occasions, asking for money?”
He hesitated. “There were extenuating circumstances.”
“Like fraud and misappropriation of funds?” she asked in a direct tone.
Maisie’s mouth dropped open, and Jack’s heart started hammering in his chest. His father had committed fraud?
Prescott was quiet for several seconds, then said in a tight voice, “Mistakes were made.”
“Yes,” she said. “That we can agree upon. Mistakes were made all the way around. I told Beau not to give you money the first time, when you and your partner were at risk of being indicted, but he couldn’t bear the thought of your children living without you.” Her voice broke. “Even then, he hoped you’d be a better father to your children than he had been to you when you were young, but you turned out to be much worse.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Prescott said in a controlled voice.
“I know more than you realize.” She paused. “Did you know that Laura kept in contact with Beau?”
Prescott remained silent.
“They corresponded quite often,” Dottie said in a loving tone. “She told him about the children and their activities. She knew that Beau desperately wanted to be part of their lives. It broke her heart that you forbade it.”
“My father was not a good person.”
“Your father had many faults, just like the rest of us. And yes, he was far too absent in your early years while he was setting up his business. When you left, he realized he’d taught you the wrong lessons. Not that hard work reaps great rewards, but that success matters more than family. He knew why you went into commercial real estate. You were looking at the dollar signs.”
“There’s nothing wrong with making a good living.”
“There is if it’s at the expense of your relationships with the people you love.” Her voice turned sterner. “There is if you do it at the expense of other people.”
“You’re talking about the deal that went wrong,” he said in disgust. “Those people knew there were risks.”
“I was speaking of your children, Prescott. Especially Jack. That poor boy was saddled with a conniving mother and a bitter, resentful father. But yes, let’s address the fraud charges you so narrowly escaped.”
Maisie reached across the tabletop and snagged Jack’s hand, squeezing it tightly.
“It was all that woman’s fault,” Prescott sneered.
“Yes, Genevieve was instrumental in that first escapade, but you were a grown man, Prescott. With two young children and an adoring wife.”
Another squeeze from Maisie.
His mother had been in on the fraud? He knew it should surprise him, but it didn’t. She was always looking for what she thought was the easy way out.
Prescott grunted. “I had two noisy toddlers and a wife who thought I was perfect. I had to provide for them, so I did what I could.”
“Laura only wanted you to love her, Prescott,” Dottie said quietly. “I read the letters she wrote to Beau. You broke her heart.”
“I was never going to be good enough for her,” he jeered.
“No,” Dottie said, her voice dripping with disappointment. “You never were, only not in the way you think. She didn’t want all the money you’d promised her when you married her. She only wanted the good man she saw beneath the bluster. That was the man she married.”
Disgust filled Prescott’s words. “I am no longer that fool.”
“No,” Dottie said, her voice breaking. “It’s obvious that man is dead. Beau saw it too, and it broke his heart. That was why he didn’t give you a thing. He’d already given you practically everything he had, and it was never enough. So whatever he had left went to his grandchildren. He hoped it would help lead them to the truth.”
“The truth?” he scoffed. “What truth?”
“That love is the most important thing in the world. More important than money and material things. He discovered that at the brewery, and he hoped his grandchildren would find their place there too.”
“The brewery is a waste of time and resources. It would have been far better to sell it.”
“Better for you when you thought you were inheriting it,” Dottie said, her voice cold. “I know you need the money.”
“I don’t need the money.”
“I’m not a fool, Prescott. I know your business is in trouble. Again.”
“Did your crystals and your tarot cards tell you that?”
“No,” she said, “but a private investigator did.” She took a breath. “You’re up to your old tricks again, Prescott. Even down to using a young woman to help you commit fraud.”
Jack’s head was spinning, and every word Dottie said had it spinning faster. Dottie had hired a private investigator? Prescott was committing fraud?
Was Lee part of it too?
“You’re bluffing,” Prescott said, his tone equally icy, but Jack was sure he heard a tremor in his voice.
“Am I? I have photos.” She paused. “Do these help prove my point?”
Maisie removed her hand from Jack’s and leaned closer to the wall of greenery, peeking through an opening. She turned to Jack and mouthed, She really has photos.
Against his better judgment, Jack peered through a crack in the foliage and saw Prescott pick up several 8x10 photos from the table. He released a growl and ripped them in two, tossing them back down. “This only proves I’m sleeping with her. It doesn’t prove anything else.”
“Oh, Prescott,” Dottie said, sounding close to tears. “Don’t you see how far you’ve fallen if you think breaking your son’s heart is a lighter offense than cheating people out of money?”
“According to the law it is.”
Prescott was sleeping with Victoria?
Maisie’s mouth dropped open, but she quickly recovered and made a retching face. Jack couldn’t help but smile. He hadn’t officially been introduced to the woman yet, but he knew enough about her to think Prescott deserved her more than Lee did. And that was saying something.
“You never learn,” Dottie said, her sternness returning. “I let this go because I’d hoped your father’s death would teach you the importance of family. Of love. But one of those photos you destroyed was from just last week. You’ve learned nothing, and it seems you’re dead set on crushing the one child who has worshiped you since he could walk.”
“What do you want?” Prescott asked. “Money?” He reached into his suit coat pocket and withdrew a checkbook. “I’m prepared to write you a check right now.”
Dottie released a bitter laugh. “There you go again, thinking money can buy happiness. I don’t want a penny of yours, even if I thought the check would actually clear. The only thing I want is for you to do the right thing. Give Lee his freedom.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means exactly what you think it does,” she said softly.
&n
bsp; They stared at each other for several long seconds. Then he scooted his chair back, loudly scraping the floor. “We’re done here.”
“You and I are done when you make this right,” she said, staring up at him as he stood. “I’ll give you until the new year to come clean to your children, and if you don’t, I’ll take what I know to the proper authorities.”
He glared at her with so much hate, it was a wonder she didn’t turn into a puddle of goo. But Dottie was made of sterner stuff than that. Instead of shooting daggers of hate, her eyes were full of pity. “For once in your life, do the right thing, Prescott. Don’t bring Lee down with you.”
Jack’s heart beat faster again. Lee was in trouble, and against his better judgment, he wanted to help him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Do you think she has three wedding dresses because she’s sleeping with three men? One for Lee, one for Prescott, and one for the third guy? Because there would be a strange kind of internal logic to that.”
Jack just made a hm sound deep in his throat.
“At least he was going to break up with her anyway.” She’d explained what Georgie had told her at the Biltmore, although she’d held back from sharing the rest of what they’d discussed. If Dottie hadn’t called from the restaurant when she did, Maisie would have told him about River earlier. But now…well, he had enough baggage of his own to deal with at the moment. No need to throw more on the pile, especially since it was a nonissue.
“That’s not the part that will upset him most,” Jack said quietly.
No. A father’s betrayal was much worse than that of a horrible girlfriend you’d already been looking for an excuse to break up with.
Dottie had called them over to the table after Prescott stormed out. From the look on her face, serene and kind of tickled to see them, it wouldn’t have surprised Maisie if she’d asked whether they would like to see the dessert menu. Instead, she got up to hug them both, then told Jack in an undertone, “I want you to know that your grandfather very much wanted to know you. Your mother refused his many attempts to get in touch with you. I suspect she thought it would hurt her chances of a…congenial relationship with your father.” It was clear she meant getting money, but Maisie was glad she hadn’t outright said it. Jack had been through enough. After listening to Dottie and Prescott’s conversation, he had the look of someone who’d walked away from a car accident in a reflective blanket. “But she told him you wanted nothing to do with him, and I’ll admit he’d given up by the time you were an adult. He wasn’t proud of that at the end.”
“I…I didn’t know,” he stammered. “Any of it.”
Dottie lifted a hand to his cheek. “That’s why I’m so glad you made it in time. Now you have somewhere else you need to be.” This she said with significance. “It’s a short walk.”
She’d slid them another set of 8x10s and sent them on their way.
Off they’d marched, following Dottie’s tune, because hell, she clearly knew what she was doing. If you had to fall in line behind someone, you could do a lot worse than Dottie Hendrickson.
Maisie pulled Jack to a stop, and his eyes flashed to her mouth before lifting to meet her gaze again. Desire cascaded through her—inappropriate for the moment but undeniable all the same—before she got it under control. People parted to pass them, one person making a rude comment she threw back.
“But you’re telling Lee, right?” she asked, guiding him over to the side of the building next to them. “There won’t be a better time to talk to him than tonight.”
He rubbed between his brows, as if in physical pain, then said, “As much as I don’t want to be in the middle of this, I think I have to do something. Georgie and Addy love him.”
She heard what he didn’t say. Jack might not love him, not yet, but the little boy he’d been still wanted a brother, even after what had happened today. She’d intended to destroy Lee for the way he’d treated Jack earlier, and while she was going to give him a temporary pass—it wasn’t every day you found out your girlfriend was cheating on you with your father, who, oh, by the way, was running some kind of scam that could get you arrested—his get-out-of-jail-free card would expire right quick if he crushed that tender part of Jack’s soul again.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
And he actually laughed a little, deep in his throat. “Is there any being ready for this, Red?” He lifted a hand and stroked one of her curls, sending a jolt from her scalp down to her core.
“Stay focused. You’re distracting me.” But as she said so, she pulled him closer, hand on his firm butt, and kissed him.
He didn’t pull away, and it felt good, impossibly good, to be out in public with him without worrying who would see.
“That’s the kind of distraction I could use,” he said when she stepped back. But she headed in the direction of the bachelor party instead of seeking out somewhere they could get horizontal, and he didn’t object. He fell in beside her and took her hand, sending a thrill through her. Other than him, when had a man last held her hand? When had she wanted one to?
As they approached Libations, they exchanged a look, Jack getting that closed-down expression he seemed to roll out whenever he didn’t know how to process something, that look she’d originally misread as aloof, and she laughed and opened the door. She hadn’t let go of his hand. The bouncer, Ed, was someone she’d known since elementary school, and he grinned as they came inside. With the way the building was designed, a bottleneck with the entrance as the neck, they couldn’t see past him.
“We’ve been expecting you,” Ed said. “I hear you’re one of the ones who orchestrated this disaster. Fred says you better show up in the morning in a hazmat suit to clean up.”
“That bad, huh?”
“I’m less worried about what’s happened than what’s about to happen. Which one of you knuckleheads thought it made sense to make Lurch the designated driver?”
She exchanged a glance with Jack.
“I guess Dottie can’t get it right all the time,” he said quietly, with a smirk.
Something crashed in the back, and Ed winced. “Better get that hazmat suit ready. One of those guys looks like he’s ready to yack.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, and led Jack into the adjoining room. She would help if they needed it, but she was reasonably sure he was messing with her. Just before they reached the main part of the tasting room, she glanced at Jack. “What do you think we’ll find back there?”
His lips lifted slightly. “Maybe Lurch made up with the donkey guy, and they decided to recreate the petting zoo.”
“Or Stella came and she decided to do a live-drawing class. In the nude.”
He cringed.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out who’s right,” she said brightly.
They turned the corner, and Maisie burst out laughing. The place was somewhat crowded, but a bubble of space had been left around their group. Lurch’s face had been marked up to look like a goat, and while the rest of their crew had tasting glasses, he had four different beers arrayed in front of him and was halfway through three of them. The group was gathered around the table next to the dart board, which had been plastered over with a taped-up picture of Stella hugging a goat. Darts were embedded in the wall on all sides of it, but none had made it onto the picture. Josie, who was for some reason in a fairy costume, stood next to Lurch, soothing him by the looks of it, and River sat a couple of seats down, surrounded by familiar faces from Buchanan Brewery and Big Catch. He looked like he was having a good time, at least.
“I should have bet money on it,” she said. “Live art show. Although something clearly happened between Lurch and Stella.” She shrugged. “It’s surprising it lasted this long. Where’s Finn?”
It was then she realized Jack wasn’t looking at the sideshow at all. His gaze was on Finn and Lee. Lee was…was he dancing? A Beach Boys song was playing over the speakers, but no one else was swaying to the music, only a very, very drunk b
lond man who looked surprisingly different from the stick-up-his-butt stiff she’d seen on that Thanksgiving video call. Finn stood next to him, bobbing to the music a little, a slightly nervous look on his face.
She should check in with River first. It was his bachelor party, and she was supposed to be his best man. Co-best man. But he had a big grin on his face—a real grin, not one of his fake smiles—and the days of codependency were over. She and River both had new commitments. New people in their lives.
So she squeezed Jack’s hand and led him through the crowd, releasing him when they reached the swaying pair.
When he saw her, Finn’s eyes lit up like he was a kid who’d just found his mother in a crowded shopping mall. “You’re here!”
She leaned in and hissed in his ear, “I said get him drunk or get him out. I didn’t say get him so sloppy he’s going to puke.”
He shrugged helplessly. “He wouldn’t stop. Like I said, something’s going on with him.”
Jack had come to a stop beside her. He was looking at Lee with a helpless expression that she understood all too well. They’d come here to talk to a sober person. What were they supposed to do now?
“It’s you,” Lee said, coming to a stop. He put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “My brother from a different mother.” He paused. “Did you know the model for that awful painting at my sister’s house is here? He’s the designated driver, but he’s been pounding beer for longer than I have.” He started laughing, and the waft of alcohol from him made Maisie cringe. His mood turned more serious as he stared at Jack. He was looking at his face like he was searching for some resemblance between them. Their coloring was different, but it was there, undeniable as their identical noses. “Finn’s right. I shouldn’t have said that to you earlier. I don’t know you, but you don’t know me either. That conversation you overheard was personal.”
If he had trouble with near strangers knowing his personal business, he wasn’t going to enjoy talking about what they’d overheard at Shebeen.
Getting Lucky (Asheville Brewing Book 3) Page 26