“Okay. Dealing with Wade Kessler’s hotel project was only one part of saving this business. Your investment is still key.” Grey glanced at his watch. “I’m going to pick up the van from the shop. Catch you later.”
“Sure.” Trip watched Grey leave and then he stared at the manila folder in his hands. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Anxiety threaded through his chest, tightening it along with the muscles in his shoulders.
Dammit. He picked up the phone and dialed his father. “Hey, Dad.”
“Gunner, I’ve been waiting for your call.”
As always, love, resentment, and disappointment knotted in Trip’s stomach at the sound of his dad’s voice.
“Then you know why I’m calling.” Trip kept his own voice polite, if detached.
“Yes. I got the request to release funds from your trust last week. Needless to say, it surprised me, considering you’ve never touched that money. In any case, we need to discuss it first.”
“What’s to discuss? I thought it was my money.”
“It is.” His father sighed. “But until you’re thirty-five, I’m still the sole trustee, which means I can’t allow funds to be misused or wasted.”
Trip scowled at the implication. “You think I’m going to blow the money on something stupid?”
“Can’t honestly say I know you well enough these days to answer that question, but that’s beside the point.” His dad paused. “As trustee, I’m bound by a fiduciary duty, and I’m never derelict in my duties.”
Except your marital ones. His dad had been derelict in his duty to his wife by catting around with Trip’s mom, which was how Trip came into existence and why Trip’s mom had named him after her father.
Now, however, wasn’t the time to point out his father’s selective memory, or dwell on how that sophomoric affair had shaped Trip’s outlook on love and life.
“So what do you need from me to move this along?” Trip hesitated. “There’s a bit of urgency on my end.”
“I figured there must be or you wouldn’t have asked for the funds. Describe this investment, and be specific. The email you sent my assistant was scant on details.”
Trip set his hat, brim up, on the desk and rubbed his forehead. “In December, I decided to work for a good friend who’d recently bought a backcountry expedition business. It sounded fun, and he’s a great guy, so I figured I had nothing to lose. We get along great, and I’ve been able to make a real contribution here. Now I’m ready to commit more time and energy to this town and buy a stake in the company. I’m getting a fifty percent ownership interest for the money.” After a brief pause, he said, “You should be happy. I’m finally growing up.”
“I am, son. And I respect your attempt to forge your own path. Reminds me of myself when I was younger.” He chuckled as if enjoying a flashback of his younger years. Of course, whenever his dad made a comparison between himself and Trip, it always served as one reminder of why Trip chose to remain a bachelor. He was a lot like his dad, which meant he couldn’t be counted on to commit to one woman for life. “Where exactly are you living these days? You haven’t set foot in Denver in almost two years. At least not to see your family.”
Trip had breezed through Denver during that time period, but he didn’t consider his stepmonster, Deborah, or older half brother, Mason, family. They’d made it their mission to interfere with the father-son relationship he and his dad might’ve been able to build. Made it real easy—enjoyable, even—for Trip to play out the role of the Cutler family’s bastard black sheep.
Despite his dad’s efforts to balance everyone’s needs, Deb and Mason’s behavior destroyed any chance they’d had at being a functional blended family. Trip’s dad still hoped they could all reconcile, but Mason and Deb’s hatred had merely cooled to indifference and neglect over time. Not exactly the stuff of happy family reunion s.
“We’re in Sterling Canyon.” Trip cleared his throat, as if doing so might clear away the ugly memories crowding around him.
“You don’t say! We’ve just submitted a bid to W. Kessler Group regarding a construction contract for a sizable resort and condo development there,” his father said, pleasant surprise in his voice. “What do you know about it?”
Trip grimaced. Of all the bad luck. “I know Wade. Had to negotiate an easement over that development so we could retain access to our section of U.S. Forest property. He’s a decent guy, from my limited experience, anyway. But he’s destroying pristine land for oversize condos and a big hotel.”