I stare at the man in disbelief. I know that isn’t exactly true. The brothers actually did communicate, just infrequently. But to reveal that would reveal my friendship with Brooks, and I’m not about to give this man any insight into his son’s life. He treated Brooks like a meal ticket and nothing more.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Dumelin, if that’s the information you want. I didn’t draft Brooks’s trust documents. Another law firm did, so I’m not privy to his reasoning.”
“Bullshit,” he snarls. “I might not be a high-and-mighty lawyer, but I’m smart enough to know he wouldn’t have appointed you to handle his trust unless he knew and trusted you. Now, he had no reason to leave everything to Stone. His mother and I were his full support system since he joined the Titans, and I know he wouldn’t forsake us and keep away what’s our due. Stone has done something illegal. I’m sure of it, and I want to know what my remedies are.”
“I’m not your lawyer, Mr. Dumelin. I can’t advise you—”
“Cut the shit, lady. As the trustee, it’s your job to know the ins and outs of the trust, and I know there’s got to be some wiggle room.”
My patience with this man has almost worn thin, but I take one more stab at civility. “I’d be glad to call the attorney who drafted the trust, if that will help—”
“What will help,” Mr. Dumelin growls as he stands and slams his palms on my desk, “is for you to get your pretty ass in gear and tell me what I need to know.”
It’s no surprise that at this point in the conversation, Odin decides to have his say. He lunges to his feet, hackles raised, his lips peeled so far back, he’s all gums and teeth. This is a far different Odin from the dog that gave Stone a bit of a warning when he stormed into my office.
This Odin is prepared to attack at a moment’s notice, and I’m not sure I can restrain him.
Luckily, his presence is enough to penetrate Mr. Dumelin’s thick skull as he immediately scrambles back, his ass slamming into the chair he just vacated. Arms outstretched, he says in a quavering voice, “You better get control of that dog.”
“And you better get out of my office, Mr. Dumelin. You are no longer welcome here, and the next time you step foot on my property, I’ll call the police to escort you off.” I reach a hand out to stroke Odin’s back. “Or maybe I’ll just let my dog take a piece of you.”
I fully understand now when Brooks used to tell me his father was a master manipulator as I witness the change come over his expression. Mr. Dumelin offers a chagrined smile, ducks his head, and holds out his palms. “Now, wait a minute… we got off on the wrong foot. I’ve just been so devastated since Brooks died, and now my only other son has forsaken me. He won’t return my calls when all I want to do is check in on him.”
I know, without a doubt, this is a lie. I saw just how worried Stone’s father was for his only remaining son at the funeral. He wanted nothing to do with him. The man was too busy preening for the TV cameras to be so much as bothered with comforting his own family.
Hell, I actually shook the man’s hand and expressed my condolences, and I don’t even think he recognizes me. He barely spared me a glance that day as well, instead focused on someone behind me that he was pandering to with fake tears.
“You really need to leave,” I say politely, standing from my desk to indicate the conversation is over. “I sent you the details of how and when you’ll receive your portion of the estate. If you believe something is wrong, you may hire your own attorney to help you figure it out.”
Mr. Dumelin stands and practically whines. “Brooks would want you to help me.”
Something inside me snaps, that this man would dare to even suggest he knew his son well enough to know what he would’ve desired. “You know nothing of what Brooks wanted,” I say softly, but my voice is laced with ice. “You didn’t know him at all.”
Eyes flaring with shock, Mr. Dumelin opens his mouth, but I cut him off, rounding my desk. “You never once tried to be a true support to your son.”
I walk up to him, stand toe-to-toe. “You merely jumped on his coattails and wrapped your arms around his throat hard to hang on. You rode his star because it made you feel good, and you never offered him anything in return.”
Mr. Dumelin’s mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water gasping for oxygen.
And while I don’t know exactly how Stone feels about his father, I know how Brooks felt about the way their father treated Stone. “And while you were so obsessed with your son playing in the big leagues, you forgot all about your other son who was struggling down below in the minors. And now that he’s got stardom again, and the bulk of Brooks’s estate, I imagine it’s only a matter of time before you try to hop on that train, if you haven’t tried already.”