Chapter Eighteen
Distanza
“Distance”
As the years carried on, his son stopped worrying when Sawyer was going to get back out there and Isadora’s family gave up hounding her about finding a future husband—though her father made comments on the rare occasions he called. Life was good and time moved faster than usual.
Lucian had finally drawn up the paperwork to buy out Christos’s portion of Leningrad and Sawyer was anxiously awaiting the invitation to combine the company with Patras Industries. The second generation was taking over, which meant he could finally pull back at work and allow Slade to take the wheel, though it was easier said than done.
As he pored over the contract in bed one night, seeing firsthand just how having Lucian involved would overshadow much of their family’s contributions, he sighed.
“Problem?” Isadora asked.
He had to tread carefully. Isadora had become a familiar part of her brother’s affairs and ranked one of his most loyal employees. She was good at her job and Sawyer didn’t want to complicate anything for her.
“No. Just realizing this is definitely going to change things. I’ve grown used to running Leningrad with your father away. Lucian will want to be a lot more involved.”
“But you’ll be partners. He’s not taking anything away from you.”
“Slade will be a junior partner as well. I trust my son, but one senior partner doesn’t equal a senior and junior partner. Things never work as easily in threes.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust my brother?”
He didn’t touch that one. Lucian’s first priority would always be Lucian.
He sighed. “It’ll be nice when I’m retired and they can worry about this nonsense.” She snorted and he glanced at her over the rim of his glasses.
Stretching close, she kissed his cheek. “I know you, Sawyer. You need to work. It’s in your blood. Take a vacation and stop acting like you’re some obsolete cog in a company you practically created.”
“Your father created it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve run it for the last twenty years. Without you, Leningrad wouldn’t exist.”
“For all your father’s faults, I don’t think he ever expected his own son to disembowel his businesses the way he has. There’s practically nothing left of his legacy.”
Her focus returned to her novel as she adjusted on the pillow next to him. She turned a page, her response to her family’s ongoing feud seeming more indifferent than ever.
“Bella?”
“I have no sympathy for him.”
Frowning, because Isadora had always strived for her father’s approval, he worried he’d missed something. “You okay?”
Flipping the book to her lap, she huffed. “That man cares nothing for me. Why should I waste a single worry on him?”
He frowned. Where was this sudden anger coming from? “Did something happen?”
Her lashes fluttered and she returned to her book. “No, he just called last week on my birthday to lecture me about Toni changing her major again.”
Her father hadn’t wished her a happy birthday? He sighed and shut his eyes. She let the man get away with so much, it was utterly disgraceful that he couldn’t even remember his kid’s birthdays.
His hand closed around hers. “Bella, your father loves you.”
She gave him a strange look he didn’t recognize. “When people love you, they tell you.”
Her words pierced something fragile between them. They were no longer talking about her father. “You know I care deeply for you.”
She looked at him, expression guarded. “I know.”
He stared at her, hoping she really understood how much.
She broke eye contact and shut off the bedside lamp, turning on her side and facing away from him. He silently sighed and shut off his lamp as well.
Lying beside her, he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “Your father’s an asshole.”
“Just what the world needs, another asshole.”
He frowned, unsure if she was implying he, too, was an asshole. Rolling to his back, he stared at the ceiling.
The following night, as he waited for her after work, their dinner growing cold on the table, he feared his clumsy words might have done more damage than a quick conversation could repair.
By seven o’clock he was convinced she wasn’t coming. Dumping their plates in the garbage, he shut off the kitchen lights and went to the living room in search of a distraction. Nothing on television appealed. Frustrated, he pulled out his cell and dialed her.
They didn’t do this. They didn’t say they would be somewhere and stand each other up. If that was the way she wanted to behave—
“Hello?” she answered, sounding frazzled.
“I threw our dinner in the trash.”
“I’ll be right back,” she said to someone he couldn’t see. A few seconds later, she whispered, “I’m sorry. Something came up.”
“A call would have been nice, Isadora.”
“Please don’t be mad. It’s been a terrible day.”
Sitting up, his anger slipped away as concern gnawed at his gut. “What happened? Are you all right?”
She exhaled into the phone. “No. I mean, I’m fine, but Lucian’s girlfriend was in a horrific accident.”
“Monique? Is she okay?” Slade often spoke fondly of the woman.
Isadora’s whisper was so hushed he could barely make out her words. “She died.”
His mind blanked at the shocking news. The girl was in her twenties. She had her whole life ahead of her. Lucian was likely crushed.
“What? How?”
And Slade… The three of them were very close. He was torn between speaking to Isadora and calling his son.
This must have happened after work, because he saw Slade that afternoon and he seemed fine. Either that or he hadn’t heard.
“It was a motorcycle accident. It’s awful, Sawyer. Lucian’s in shock, I think.”
“Where are you now?”
“We’re at Slade’s.”
He sat up. “Slade’s?”
“The accident happened around the corner. Thank God he was here. He seems to be more help to Lucian than I am. I know she’s been a part of my brother’s life for years, but I hardly knew the woman. I feel terrible. I always assumed I’d have the chance, but…”
“I’m sorry. Please tell your brother I’m so sorry for his…” His words cut off. She couldn’t do that without people wondering how he found out. “I’m sure word will get out and I’ll speak to him soon. What a dreadful situation. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“There’s nothing to do. I’m not even sure why I’m here. The two of them are just sitting in silence. Slade’s taking it pretty hard. He’s a good friend, Sawyer.”
It didn’t take long for his son to call. Sawyer expected as much. Yet, nothing prepared him for the desolate look in Slade’s eyes when he came to Sawyer’s home that night.
“I don’t understand this, Slade. I know the three of you were close, but… Did you love her?”
His son looked at him through red-rimmed eyes, his throat working to swallow back words that Sawyer wished he would share. “No,” he rasped. “I loved what she brought out in my friend.”
Sawyer analyzed those cryptic words for days, never fully understanding the grief of his son. Was the woman that good for Lucian in Slade’s eyes? That didn’t make sense when Isadora believed they were poorly suited. Surely she knew her brother better than his son. Perhaps Slade really had loved Monique, but was too ashamed to admit the truth. Regardless of the cause, his son’s sorrow was a palpable ache he couldn’t soothe.
Nothing was the same after that day. The death of Monique left Slade so stricken with grief every other relationship suffered. Lucian was also affected, but hid his personal feelings well.
Isadora also sensed the imbalance in the boys. While Lucian was moving on—or more accurately blazing forward—Slade’s ambition seemed to vanish. He often stopped by the house uninvited, and that added another complication to Sawyer and Isadora’s relationship.
Sometimes a sense of no control could drive men to wild extremes. Not the desired temperament of the new generation that held the reins in Folsom. And certainly not the circumstances Sawyer wanted to combat at this time of his life.
For weeks it was a touch and go game of phone tag between him and Isadora, her asking if she could see him, and him making excuses because his son was once again sitting in his home. Just sitting.
“I wish you would talk to me, Slade. I can’t help you if you refuse to explain this to me.”
Slade’s blue eyes were flat, his expression devoid of emotion as he stared at the distant wall. “No one can help me.”
“Maybe you should speak to someone, a grief counselor or something.” At this point he was convinced Slade and Monique had been having an affair behind Lucian’s back and his son was simply too ashamed to confess the truth. “You know, I’d never judge you, Slade. Sometimes we can’t control who we love.”
His sharp gaze flashed to his face. “What do you mean by that?”
Sawyer frowned. “I’m just saying … sometimes our hearts are more powerful than our common sense.”
“I think,” he quietly said, “Loving the wrong person can only lead to a broken heart. I knew better, but I couldn’t help it. My heart couldn’t help it.”
“Does Lucian know that you loved her, Slade? He might understand—”
His son glared at him, cutting off his statement. “I didn’t love her.”
“Then who?” Maybe he was missing everything. All of this coincided with Monique’s death. He assumed…
Sawyer drew in a long breath and slowly sat back, the flicker of an explanation flitting through his mind. “Is it Lucian?”
“I have to go.” Slade stood and Sawyer rushed after him as he moved to the front door.
“Slade, wait.” He didn’t know what to say, wasn’t even sure if he was on the right track.
Slade never gave any indication that he might like men. On the contrary, Sawyer had only seen him date women. Lucian, however…
Dear God, the man was so blatantly heterosexual there was no way to misinterpret his orientation. His heart broke for his son. “Slade … Lucian’s not gay.”
His shoulders worked as he faced the front door, each labored breath cutting through the thick silence. Finally, he said, “Neither am I.”
Sawyer never broached the subject again, figuring that Slade would explain things when he was ready. As time went on, he dismissed the assumption that his son was in love with another man, but he did wonder if they had both shared a connection with the woman that died.
Nothing made sense and even things that had always been, suddenly seemed uncertain. Slade and Lucian’s relationship shifted, resembling that of enemies more than friends or business partners as the months went on.
Lucian Patras, Slade Bishop, and Shamus Callahan were rapidly recognized as names no one fucked with. All three men were in a brutal race to the top, but only Shamus seemed capable of being pleasant along the way. Even Isadora noticed changes, as concerned for her brother as he was for his son.
“I can’t seem to get through to him,” Isadora complained to Sawyer one evening. “Lucian’s so cold and closed off since Monique died. Everything has to do with business. That’s all he cares about.”
“It’s what he loves, bella. I imagine he’s trying to fill a void.”
“But it’s been over a year. He can’t shut love out completely.”
“I’m sure your brother’s … having his needs met. Maybe right now he’s using work to cope. Let that be his mistress for a while. Give him time.”
“I’ll never understand men. Why love something that can’t love you back? He’s turning into my father.”
Sawyer didn’t mention that she loved him despite his refusal to return the sentiment. After so much time he believed she knew he loved her, but he’d yet to say the words.
It was a confusing time, tension running high between his son and her brother and neither he nor Isadora were clear on why that was. Lately, there were a lot of things Sawyer seemed in the dark about.
The following week he stepped into his son’s office and waited for Slade to get off the phone. When he ended the call, Sawyer asked, “Where’s the paperwork for the Gerard deal?”
“Gone. We sent it out yesterday.”
Sawyer’s brow lowered. “Who the hell signed it?”
“Lucian already signed off. I handled our portion.”
Sawyer scoffed. Nothing like being removed without permission.
“Next time we agree on a deal that size I want to see the final contract.”
“I don’t have time for this, Dad—”
“Make time.”
“ What do you want from me?” Slade barked. “We have a job to do and sometimes I think I’m the only one doing it! Two senior partners and I’m the only one here every day. You skip out whenever you want and Lucian’s getting his brains sucked out by some gold digging whore!”
Jarred by Slade’s venomous response, he held up his hands. “Slade, take a breath.”
“I don’t need a fucking breath, I need to wrap up this deal so I can move onto Chrysler & Ro. since I’m the only one who seems to give two shits about what matters.”
This shift in his son had started after the death of Monique and had only gotten worse with time. He wanted to help him, but he didn’t know how.
Leaving the office, he let the door hang wide and marched directly past reception into Lucian’s office.
“Mr. Bishop, you can’t go in there,” the secretary called.
“This is my fucking company,” he snapped and barged into Lucian’s office.
“I’ll call you back.” He hung up the phone. Lucian raised a brow, and waited for an explanation. He was alone, but clearly in the middle of something.
“The Gerard deal required my signature.”
Lucian closed his laptop. “No, it required a partner and an under signer. I signed and Slade handled the rest.”
“You know, it would be nice if my presence wasn’t completely ignored around here. Slade said you’re dropping the ball on Chrysler & Ro.”
He cocked his head. “Slade’s not thinking clearly.”
“He says the same about you.”
“Do yourself a favor, Sawyer, and don’t involve yourself in issues that aren’t yours.”
He knew then that whatever was going on with his son absolutely had to do with Lucian.
“Fine. But just remember, you were in diapers when your father and I started this company and I won’t stand for my authority being undermined.”
Lucian’s dark gaze fastened to his as he slowly rose from his chair. “I apologize if us moving ahead on a time sensitive deal somehow hurt your feelings, Sawyer, but this isn’t a fucking daycare. I might have been a child when you started here, but I’m senior partner now. Next time you come in my office throwing a fit like a toddler, you better be holding a box of your toys, because your next step will be out the fucking door. Do we understand each other?”
His molars locked as rage burned through his body. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m not Christos.” And he’d be damned if some spoiled shit took credit for his life’s work.
“Find someone else to unruffle your feathers. I have work to do.” He pressed the intercom. “Laura, get me the Chrysler & Ro. paperwork.”
Furious, Sawyer turned and gripped the door.
“And Sawyer?”
What you little prick? “What?”
Lucian’s voice was deceptively calm. “I’ve accomplished plenty of things that weren’t easy. A challenge will never stop me from getting my way.”
He left and slammed the door. That was the last time he overlooked something. Since the buyout, his position seemed more obsolete than ever. And as it came time to finalize the merger, Sawyer’s instinct told him it wouldn’t be as simple as they’d all hoped.
He wanted to be present every chance he could, but his obligations weren’t simply tied to Leningrad. Winter had arrived with record breaking wind chills and they were scrambling to keep St. Christopher’s open—at least until the spring. That sometimes took precedence over work. Peoples’ lives were at stake and it wasn’t looking good.
Every time he returned to the office things seemed worse than he’d left them. Lucian was becoming one of the most ruthless, unsatisfied entrepreneurs Sawyer had ever witnessed. His aggression wasn’t selective, either. If Lucian said black, Slade said white. Whatever was going on between them wasn’t going to just go away.
He knew things were the nastiest they’d ever been the day his son barreled into Leningrad with a black eye.
“What the hell happened?” Sawyer barked, seeing Slade’s face.
“Stay out of it, Dad.” His son went to the ice bucket in the corner of his office and threw a few cubes into a linen napkin.
“Did Lucian do that? That kid’s out of hand.”
“He’s not a kid,” Slade snapped. “He’s a grown man who’s having his brains sucked out of his dick.”
Sawyer’s preoccupation with the shelter had cost all of them. He somehow felt responsible for this rift between them, believing if he’d been more aware of what was going on he might have been able to stop it before it spun out of hand. Too late.
His authority at the company was slipping and the doors of St. Christopher’s were now permanently closed. He was failing his son, failing Chelsea, and if Lucian didn’t settle down, he’d soon be failing Isadora, because he was going to go ballistic on the man. She’d never forgive him.
He should have sat down with the both of them months ago, but he never expected things to get this volatile. “You two have to work this out. You’re more than partners. You’re friends.”
“Fuck our friendship.”
Sawyer’s concern extended beyond business. Isadora would hear about this altercation. Lately, they’d been discussing coming out as a couple, but this fissure between their families would cause another delay. “Fuck!”
His son scowled and winced, pressing the ice to his eye. “Why are you so pissed off?”
Frustrated with the entire situation, he paced. “When I put years into something and see it getting destroyed over some pissing match you two can’t work out, I’m entitled to get angry. Whatever’s going on between the two of you has to stop. Our families have too much history for this bullshit.”
“You’re acting like this is all my fault!”
He didn’t care whose fault it was. “I’m not in the mood to go up against the Patras name.”
Slade’s face darkened with pent up rage. “This isn’t about his fucking name. It’s about him!”
Slade didn’t get it. He was still new. He didn’t understand how that family worked. “Don’t let your ego overshadow the fact that their name will always carry more power than Bishop. They’re kings. They always win. I want this worked out and I want it worked out quickly.”
Slade scoffed. “Thanks for taking my side.”
“I am on your side!” He’d heard enough. This was not the way grown men conducted business. “All of this was created for you ! I’m trying to protect you by teaching you that sometimes we have to concede to the bigger wolf. I don’t care if you have to tuck your tail and beg, you will make this right.”
“Fuck that! I get that this was once Christos’s company, but now it’s ours . I’m not going to be some fucking callboy who follows Lucian’s lead when we’re the ones running the company. I’m not afraid of him.”
Sawyer laughed without humor. “You should be.”
He left him there to think about his advice, but his son was a stubborn man with costly pride. It got so bad, Lucian rarely ventured into Leningrad anymore, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching closely.
Though he and Isadora rarely bickered, the recent tension between their families infected every part of their lives over the next several weeks. She heard about it through whispers in the HR department at her office and, no matter how much he tried not to let Slade and Lucian’s issues come between them, she brought it home anyway.
“I don’t understand why you can’t say something to Slade,” she argued. “He’s your son!”
“And Lucian’s your brother, but I’m not holding you responsible for his actions!” he snapped. “Did you ever think this woman he’s seeing might be bad for him?”
She drew back as if that couldn’t possibly be the cause. “Evelyn? What does she have to do with any of this?”
“According to Slade, she has everything to do with it. Since she’s come around there’s no reasoning with your brother. He’s off his game and it’s affecting his work.”
She scoffed. “My brother’s worked his entire adult life to build an empire. He’s overcome more heartache than anyone should have to face, and he never lets his personal life affect his professional one. If his relationship is overshadowing his work, well, maybe it’s about time!”
“He thinks he loves that woman, Isadora. But everyone else can see she’s using him.”
She shook her head slowly, something close to pity flashing in her eyes. “He’s in love, Sawyer. Maybe if you knew what that felt like you’d understand.”
Now she was turning this on him. “This isn’t about us.”
“They’re our family. How can you sit there and say it’s not about us?”
“It’s a personal issue between Slade and Lucian, Isadora. Keep Human Resources out of it.”
“Because I’d only care about their relationship if it affected my job? You’re an idiot.” With that she stormed out of his house and didn’t call him for a week.
He didn’t know what she wanted aside from the impossible. Things were shifting, slowly, like a dusting of snow that posed the threat of an avalanche. He wasn’t sure how to slow time or go back to the way things were, but he sensed a collapse approaching.