“How’s my baby boy?” my mom asks when my assistant, Victoria, transfers her call in.

“He’s no longer a baby,” I dead pan.

“Don’t remind me. It makes me want to call Dr. Brickner.”

Her plastic surgeon. I roll my eyes.

“What did you need, Mom?” I tap my pen on my desk.

“I just wanted you to know, we’re cleaning out your room and you have a safe in your closet. We’ll gladly remove it…”

“No!” I stand to my feet, buttoning up my jacket. “I’ll be over for it this afternoon.”

“Jeez, now you’re making me wish I would’ve hired a locksmith.” She giggles.

“You wouldn’t find any of it interesting.” My finger hovers over the end call button.

“Well, I’ll be gone for most of the afternoon. Take it with you because we’re starting renovations tomorrow. Breaking down the wall to your brother’s bedroom and making a suite for your father.”

“Why?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to know the answer.

“Oh, you know. He snores, and it’s been…”

“Please don’t continue,” I say, wishing I hadn’t asked.

“How do you think you were born?”

“Enough Mom. I’ll be by later.” I click the button before she can say anything else to get under my skin.

I press down on the button to call for Victoria.

“Yes,” she answers, as dull as a useless pencil.

“Don’t sound too eager to help me.”

“I’m about to go to lunch. What do you need?”

I shake my head. I only put up with her bullshit because she’s the best assistant I’ve ever had.

“Can you reschedule my afternoon?” I ask.

A long, annoyed breath is my reply. “Do I even want to know?”

“No.”

I hear her fingers tapping. “I can, but your dad is due…Oh, hello Mr. Kale.”

She picks up the receiver. “Your dad’s here,” she whispers like I’m about to get into trouble.

My father appears at my door.

“I’m not blind. Or deaf, Victoria.”

She huffs and hangs up as my father steps through.

Now I have visions of him trying to have sex with my mother and her refusing. I shake my head to clear the visual from my brain.

“Jagger,” he says with the deep authoritative voice he’s used on me since birth.

“Dad.” I gesture with my hand over to my couches, thinking he’ll be more comfortable. Especially with what I’m about to ask him.

“Scotch,” he says.

He sits down on my leather couch, while I walk to the bar, prepare our two drinks and join him.

“I don’t have a lot of time.” He’s already looking at his watch and I’m sure in his mind he’s calculating how quickly he can get out of here.

“Did you get the materials I sent you? The figures?” I ask, trying to keep the hope from my voice.

The ice jiggles in his glass as he sets it down. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Right.” I pick up the three books that recently had movies made based on them. “I wanted to talk about starting a new division where we pitch books to investors.”

My dad picks up a couple of the books, flipping them over to take a closer look.

“Jagger, we deal with getting our clients deals. Actors, actresses, we negotiate their deals. This would be a production division and I’m not sure we’re ready for something like that.” He picks up his glass and takes a sip.

I know he saw something in those numbers I sent him that gave him pause or he never would’ve kept this meeting. My father doesn’t waste his own time, ever. I need to sell him.

“I know, but I also have huge connections with investors. This could be a profitable channel for the company to explore. Smaller films are making money nowadays. There’s more avenues than ever to get them distributed.”

He thumbs through the pages of one of the books. If anyone wants to know what I’ll look like twenty-five years, look at my dad. Graying around his temples, tall and muscular. My brother takes after my mom, but I’m completely my dad. And I’m reminded of that every day in this office.

“I can’t say I don’t see the benefit based on the numbers you gave me, but it’s a risk.”

“We can start off small. I’ll get a group together. One book at a time. If it fails or doesn’t take off, we can scrap it.”

I don’t want to say the company can afford a loss, because I might as well throw a drink in his face for the reaction I’d get.

He places his now empty glass on the table. “Okay, Jag, you’ve sparked my interest and stated your case enough that I’ll at least consider it. But I need more specifics…who you’d want on your team, what books specifically you’re thinking of pursuing out of the gate, how much of your time this will take and how you plan to shore up your loss of productivity for your current clients. Get me all that and then I’ll make a final decision.” He stands buttoning his suit jacket.

“Thanks Dad.”

He nods, not really acknowledging that fact he’s allowing me to explore this new avenue that I’m a hell of a lot more passionate about then being an agent for over-privileged asshole celebrities. Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you’re meant to do it.

“Did your mother tell you about the renovation we’re doing?” he asks, weaving into our personal relationship.

“She did. I’ll be by today for the safe.”

“I don’t want you and your brother to worry. Lots of parents do separate bedrooms.”

I nod, wondering why he feels the need to reassure me. I’ve caught both him and my mother in compromising positions before. It’s common knowledge they’re not monogamous which shocked me at twelve, but at an adult, not so much.

“I’m not. Hey, I like sleeping alone, too.” I shrug.

He shoots me a knowing smirk. I can’t very well insult the man who may have just handed me the golden key.

“One woman will stifle you.” He shakes his head and again as if the thought of monogamy is ludicrous.

“Have a good day, Jagger. Come by on Sunday for dinner.” His comment is flippant like he doesn’t really know what to say. Other than the office, I rarely see him.

My relationship with my parents is almost nonexistent, but my dad threw me a lifejacket today and damn if I’m not going to use it to swim to shore. At heart, I’m still that little boy who wants to make my dad proud.

Yeah, I said it. I’m a pussy.