I laughed in spite of myself. “Did he know what you were referring to? The Monopoly games, I mean?”
“Oh, of course he knew. My father has a memory that’s a cross between a computer and a steel trap. He just didn’t think I remembered – or had enough balls to cross him.”
“What did he do?”
“He ranted and roared about suing me in court, then he threatened to disown me. I flipped him off and left the house.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“It was pretty stupid, but – hey – I was twenty years old at the time. And it felt great.”
“But…. what happened after that?”
“Well, one thing I’d done with that ten million dollars was make a lot of contacts in the industries I targeted. And I had the family name backing me up, not to mention dozens of college and boarding school friends with rich fathers who had millions of dollars to invest. I secured a hundred million in seed money – with far, far better terms than my father had offered me, I might add. I buckled down and actually tried to make it work… and the rest is just boring details in a bank account ledger.”
He toasted me ironically with his glass of wine.
“You got people to give you a hundred million dollars right after you blew ten million?!”
“First off, you’ve got to remember, we’re talking about people worth hundreds of millions of dollars apiece. Some of them worth billions. A couple of million for an investment – especially backing a Templeton – ”
He said his family name in a hoity-toity, self-mocking way.
“ – was a no-brainer to them. Some of them wanted to get closer to my father. Those guys, I let them have the impression that I was still in the old man’s good graces. And the ones who hated my father, well, I let them know exactly what I’d done. They usually roared with laughter and then asked how big a check I needed. They figured I had inherited my father’s business sense, and they could stick it to my dad by helping me succeed.”
“Did your father find out?”
“Oh yeah. That was part of the fun – especially when my initial investors made back 300% within two years.”
“So… it was all just a… a ‘screw you’ to your dad?”
“Well, that, and getting rich in the process.”
“But… your father… you still talk to him, right?”
“Now we do. We didn’t for a couple years afterward.”
“Not even at Christmas?”
“Oh, when he threatened to disinherit me, he wasn’t joking. And my mother went right along with it. I was ‘disinvited’ to all family functions for awhile. In fact, I didn’t see or talk to either of them for almost three years.”
“But – but Mexico – ”
“Yeah, well… that’s a bit more complicated.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what percentage of my actions was real fear for his life… and what percentage was feelings of responsibility to him, as a son for his father… and what percentage was just the ultimate ‘fuck you’?”
I stared at him blankly. I couldn’t think of anything to say. This conversation had gone that far beyond my realm of what constitutes ‘normal.’
“Nobody else would do it,” he continued. “Vincent sure as hell wouldn’t. In the end, my brother is only out for himself. Mom wanted to hire a professional go-between, a mercenary, to deliver the money. But I went to the dropoff without either of them knowing. Paid the ransom myself, just so I could stand there and look him in the eye. Kind of like, ‘I’m the son you hated, and yet here I am. Asshole.’”
Connor shrugged.
“In the end, I guess I still felt like I owed him that ten million… so… I had to repay him somehow. That, combined with all the other things I mentioned. Like I said, it’s complicated.”
“What did he say when you got him out?”
Connor grinned. “‘What took you so long?’”
“You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not. In that instant, I showed him up, utterly and completely… and the bastard didn’t have the graciousness to admit it. But that’s my father for you. On the other hand, I got invited back to family gatherings after that. They kind of had to.”
“You still care about him, though, right? I mean… you risked your life…”
“That is a question for another therapy session.” Connor took a sip of his wine, then gave me a lopsided, sarcastic smile. “Now aren’t you glad you asked about my childhood?”
“…I’m not really sure…”
“It was supposed to be a funny question. Nobody in their right mind would say ‘yes.’”
“Well… I mean… I want to know more about you… so I guess I’m glad I asked… I’m just so sad that you had to go through everything you did growing up…”
“Save all that sympathy for kids with unhappy childhoods who didn’t turn out to be billionaires,” he said lightheartedly.
“Hopefully they got to play a few games of Monopoly with their parents and didn’t have to worry about a knife in their back,” I muttered.
Connor laughed, then settled back in his chair. “But I learned a lot from those games.”
“What, how to rip people’s throats out?”
“Businesses’ throats out, businesses’ throats. Figuratively speaking, of course. But I learned something else, too.”
“What was that?”
“What I wanted to do when I grew up.”
“I thought you wanted to be a futures trader.”
“That was when I was five. Before the Monopoly games taught me what I really wanted.”
“…which was…?”
Connor gave me a chilling smile.
“To destroy my father’s empire… just to watch it burn.”
15
Things got less dark after that.
Although it took me awhile to recover.
Connor knew he’d frightened me a little, and so he spent the rest of the time regaling me with stories about playing pranks on schoolmates at boarding school… and bizarre tales of business deals gone wrong… and funny bits about how much Sebastian hated Connor’s family, and all the snide remarks he would make when he talked to them.
Eventually the wine took over and put everything into a nice, soft haze… and the food overwhelmed me with the sheer sensual delight of it all. And I forgot about the creepy family history.
For a while, anyway.
We finished dinner – all sixteen courses – around 11PM. I swear I almost asked the restaurant staff to cart me out in a wheelbarrow.
As we walked out into the lobby, Connor did the worst thing he could have possibly done under the circumstances.
“So… want to go back to the hotel and have crazy sex?” he whispered in my ear.
“UGH. NO,” I said, not wanting to admit that I felt about as sexy as a stuffed pig. “You paid too much for it to all come back up.”
He roared with laughter. “That’s gross… and yet, somehow endearing.”
“I’m so glad to entertain you,” I said sarcastically. “By the way… how much was that dinner?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“That’s what I was afraid of…”
Once we were back in the Bentley, I snuggled up next to Connor. “What are we doing now?”
“Are you tired?”
“No, I had a couple of nice naps earlier,” I said, then followed up impishly with, “Followed by some nice exercise.”
He smiled. “Yes it was. But since we’ve got to wait an hour before we go back in the water – ”
“You know that’s an old wives’ tale, right?”
“You’re aware I was using a metaphor, right?”
“Very funny, smartass.”
“As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted: if we’ve got to take a break from… ‘exercise’… is there anything you want to do?”
I thought about gambling… but it didn’t really sound appealing. And I didn’t think there were any shows this time of night. “No, not really. You?”
“I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Remember when you asked why I was here on business?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to go see what it is?”
I edged backwards so I could look at him. “Now?”
“Well… not right now… but soon.”
I frowned at him, intrigued. “What are you talking about?”
He gave me a mysterious smile. “You’ll see.”
And that’s all he would tell me until we got back to the hotel.
16
When we walked into the penthouse, Connor strolled over in front of the twenty-foot-high windows and gazed out at the glowing lights of Vegas.
Johnny headed for his room on the opposite side of the suite – then paused and looked back. “We good for the night?”
“We’re good,” Connor nodded. “See you tomorrow.”
I looked at Connor questioningly, but he didn’t look back at me.
“Okay. Goodnight, Lily.”
“Goodnight, Johnny,” I said, though I felt guilty about it… because I was pretty sure I was participating in a lie.