I gulped a healthy dose of wine and turned to give Spencer my full attention.
“I didn’t realize union negotiation depended on the size of my dick. But don’t worry, Spence, they used to stick us in the tub together when we were kids. I can assure you, mine is bigger than yours.”
“Sophia!” my father interjected. “Act like a lady and watch your language.”
As if being belittled by my father and half-brother wasn’t bad enough, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Weston walk into the restaurant. Our eyes caught, and he did a quick sweep over my dinner companions before heading right for us. I downed the rest of my wine like it was a bottle of water.
“Mr. Sterling. How nice to see you.” Weston put his hand on the back of my chair and graced our table with his most dazzling and annoying smile.
My father looked him up and down and snarled, “Jesus Christ, does anyone give a shit about this hotel? Here I was concerned that the Lockwood family would send someone to try to take my daughter for a ride. At least that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about if they sent you.”
Weston’s lip twitched, and his eyes flitted to me a moment. “Yes, you can sleep well at night knowing I’m not taking your daughter for a ride.”
Spencer leaned back in his chair. “I thought you were in Vegas.”
“Moved back to New York nine months ago. You’re slipping at keeping tabs on me, Spence.”
I had to hide my smirk. My half-brother loathed being called Spence.
“If you’re here,” Spencer said, “then who’s in Sin City keeping the strippers and casinos in business, Lockwood?”
Weston flashed a smug smile. “You mean like Aurora Gables? I hear she’s got someone keeping her busy.”
Spencer’s smile wilted. Interesting. It sounded like Weston had done some homework and had gossip I needed to catch up on related to my perfect half-brother.
My half-brother’s jaw remained clenched as he spoke. “What are you doing about the union issue?”
Weston glanced at me guiltily. “I met with them today. We’re close to reaching an agreement.”
My eyes widened. That little shit. He knew all about the union problem, yet he’d left me holed up, listening to the staff while he disappeared to take care of business. I’d underestimated him and assumed he was out screwing around. Meanwhile, he was two steps ahead of me, dealing with things we should’ve been working on together. Spencer and my father made me angry, but this? I was furious.
“You let a Lockwood go take care of business on his own?” my father snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you completely incompetent?”
Weston raised his hand. “Whoa. Hang on a minute. Take it down a notch, old man. There’s no reason to raise your voice. Don’t speak to Sophia like that.”
“Don’t you tell me how to talk to my daughter!”
Weston straightened his spine. “I’m not going to stand here and listen to you raise your voice to any woman. I don’t give a shit if she’s your daughter or not. Have a little respect.”
My father stood and tossed his napkin to the table. “Mind your own damn business.”
Things were spinning out of control, and I didn’t like where we were headed. I stood, too. “Both of you, knock it off!” I pointed at my father. “I won’t tolerate you raising your voice and calling me names.” I turned to Weston and jabbed my finger into his chest. “And you—I don’t need you coming to my defense. I can take care of myself.”
Weston shook his head. “I forgot what a fun bunch you all are. I always knew the old man was a sadist. Didn’t know you were a masochist, Fifi. Enjoy your damn meal.” He turned and walked away.
My father and I were still standing, and I had no idea why, but I didn’t want to be the first to take my seat.
“I’ve been here thirty-six hours,” I said. “You need to give me some breathing room. If I need help, I’ll reach out. We’re all on the same side here, and I consider asking for assistance when needed a sign of a good leader, not a sign of weakness. Now, if you’d like to sit down and discuss the issues, perhaps provide some guidance from your years of experience, I’m happy to have that conversation. If not, I’ll be ordering room service upstairs in my room.”
My father grumbled something I couldn’t make out under his breath, but nevertheless, he picked up his napkin and sat.
“Thank you,” I said.
During the rest of our dinner, things were less heated, though the more I filled Dad in on the hotel’s issues, the tougher it was for him to keep from bulldozing me into having Spencer join me in managing things. My half-brother did his usual nodding and repeating of things my father said, but he had nothing of real value to add.