August 15, 2006

TSOTF, Part 2

Martin glanced up from his paper as Kate joined him at the table, a small frown playing at the corners of his lips. “Breakfast is always at six-thirty, Katherine,” he reminded her, irritated that she had not dressed before joining them.

“I’m sorry,” she offered, reaching for the carafe of orange juice and awaiting his lecture on self-discipline and proper breakfast attire. When her husband’s face did not reappear from behind the paper, she cast at a glance at her step-son. Jack was seemingly engrossed in one of the discarded sections of his father’s paper.

“What are your plans for today?” Martin asked. Kate sighed. She hated talking to him through his newspaper, but knew better than to complain. Sipping the fresh-squeezed juice, she considered her day. She supposed she could meet with the decorator and finalize the plans for the dining room, now that Martin had given his approval. Still, the gardens were in full bloom, and she would love nothing more than to set her easel in the midst of the riot of colors and textures and capture their spirit on canvas.

Martin lowered the paper, awaiting her answer. His eyes went to the show of her cleavage flanked by the lace of her pink silk gown, and he thought back to her reluctance at submitting to the surgery. Her new breasts were exquisite, and he decided that he rather liked seeing so much of them first thing in the morning, at least this morning.

“I imagine I should meet with Raul today,” Kate began, aware that Martin was engrossed in the view south of her face. When his eyes finally met hers, she smiled and raised a brow in invitation.

“What a wonderful idea,” he responded, the intensity of his stare telling her he wasn’t talking about Raul and the redecorating. He set the paper on the table and rose, adjusting his tie, and looking over at his son. Jack had surprised him. The boy had never held much interest in the family business before his mother’s suicide. Hell, at eighteen, he hadn’t a clue what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. When he announced after Ellen’s funeral that he wanted to follow in his old man’s footsteps, Martin had been shocked, and most pleased. He’d spent the last five years handing his son the best education money could buy, and teaching him about the business world and finances what even the best universities could not.

Jack had proven to be a worthy pupil, loyal without question, and cut-throat when it served him well. Martin had even allowed Jack to take over the negotiations on the last two deals, impressed when Jack managed to acquire both the pharmaceutical company and the mining rights for far less than he himself had thought possible.

Removed from the family business, Jack had also acquired his father’s taste for fast cars and beautiful women. Martin thought of the petite brunette Jack had been sleeping with as of late, and for a moment envied his son his youth. Not that he wasn’t a handsome man himself. Both time and genetics had been generous to him. He required little exercise to maintain his lean frame, and had yet to show his forty-seven years in his features, unlike his own father, who was a soft, balding old man by his fiftieth birthday.

“Martin?” Kate’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he focused on Jack, who was looking at him inquisitively. Martin nodded to his son, surprised by the spark of resentment he felt towards him, that remote thought that one day his own son would betray him the way he had his own father.

Posted by *Theresa* at August 15, 2006 08:12 AM

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Waiting (im)patiently for the next installment. ;)

Posted by: Karin at August 15, 2006 01:38 PM

Me, too....

Posted by: Wanda at August 15, 2006 03:04 PM

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