“I know you’re not happy with this situation,” Lacey continued, acting like we hadn’t just had a hot little fuck in her office. “But you do need to talk to them. You can use the conference room for as long as you like.”

“Not unless you have a full bar in there,” I said.

“It’s three p.m.,” she said.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere. Where’s the nearest place I can get a stiff bourbon?”

“There’s a bar in the lobby of this building,” she said.

“Great. Come on.”

She shook her head. “This is between you and your brothers and sister. I have work to do.”

“Yeah, you do. With us. I’m not going through with this unless you come along. Don’t worry. You’ll get your full hourly rate.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” she said. “But I have an appointment on another case—”

“You come along, or this isn’t happening.”

She sighed. “Fine. Charlie, could you call Jimmy Trask and reschedule our four o’clock? I have some time tomorrow morning, I think.”

Charlie nodded and left.

“Let’s go, then,” she said, not looking me in the eye.

“None of us is happy about this, Rock.” Reid downed his bourbon. “Believe me.”

“Isn’t there some way we can contest this?” Riley asked Lacey.

She shook her head. “Like I said before, the will is ironclad. Your father made sure of that. I tried to talk him out of this, but he was determined.”

“Determined to ruin my life,” I said.

“Clearly he was determined to ruin all of our lives,” Reid said. “This isn’t what any of us expected. We all thought I’d be in charge.”

“Please. Take charge,” I said. “I’d love nothing better.”

“I would if I could,” he said, “but you heard the attorney. We do it Dad’s way, or it all gets sold off.”

“Then let’s sell it off,” I said. “The four of us split the profit. Sounds good to me.”

“Weren’t you listening at all?” Riley said.

Hell, no. I’d been dreaming of fucking Lacey Ward. A dream I’d just made a reality…and I wanted to repeat it. Badly.

“The proceeds from the company and all the real estate go to charity,” Lacey said.

“For God’s sake,” I said. “Which charity? The Wolfe Foundation?”

“No. Your father figured if he left it to his own foundation, the four of you would find a way around his will. It will go to The Coalition for the Homeless.”

Reid led out a sarcastic laugh. “Dad hated the homeless. Thought they were all losers.”

“He’d rather give losers his fortune than his own kids,” I said, scoffing. “Unbelievable.”