Page 103 of Dr. Aster
“I think everyone agrees with that,” Jim added with a laugh. “What Jake’s trying to say is, it doesn’t matter. We’ve all grown up with the same sets of rules and boundaries. It seems none of us let it define us as adults, though.”
“Bullshit,” Collin interjected with a sigh. “All of our asses belong in therapy, and you know it.”
“That’s exactly why we go ride horses at your wife’s horse clinic,” Jake said with a grin.
“Right,” Collin said, “that’s why you’re more damaged now than you were before she opened the damn thing.”
“I’m completely lost,” I admitted.
“Elena has an equine therapy for those dealing with PTSD,” Jim said, pushing his finished bowl of pho away, taking his beer in his hand, and leaning back in his chair. “Either way, you can see and judge by our conversation here today that it somehow works for everyone but Jake, Collin, and me.”
“I don’t mean to be blunt,” I started, “but I avoided hanging out with you guys a lot because I knew you all came from the same kind of money that I was born into, and I wanted nothing to do with that shit in Los Angeles after I worked so hard to move away from it.”
“No shit,” Jake said as if he knew why I’d avoided getting personal with this group before I did. “And here I thought you rejected us because we weren’t as boyishly cute as your sorry ass.”
“We get it,” Jim said. “But you should know that we don’t use our wealth for status as our parents may have. Correct me if I’m wrong, though, because if we’re bringing our backgrounds into this, I’m quite confident that even our parents were worlds apart from yours when it comes to the family fortunes?” Jim grinned, but I saw his inner businessman taking center stage in the conversation.
“Go ahead. Tell me why you think so,” I said, somewhat curious about what he thought of my spoiled ass.
“I see your family’s donations come across mine and Spencer Monroe’s desks all the time. It looks like they’re buying off the hospital to allow you to work there?”
“Holy shit,” I practically choked on the sip of beer I was swallowing. “How the fuck did you put that one together?”
“Are you shitting me?” Jake chuckled. “Jim has an eagle eye when it comes to details in business.”
“Jimbo dreams in numbers,” Collin added, talking about Jim like he was his own brother. “He misses nothing. He’s probably?—”
“Don’t listen to them,” Jim ignored the guys. “I only found it noteworthy due to the amounts they donate to the hospital each month. Spencer and I joke that if your parents pulled their donations, Saint John’s would be a shithole.”
“What do you mean by that?” I knew they donated large sums, but that was par for the course for my parents. They didn’t do anything halfway, especially when proving a point.
But now, I was beginning to feel like the point they were making was that I was only at Saint John’s because of their money. Suddenly, I felt like the crisp mountain air was heavy, thick, and suffocating. What the hell were my parents doing behind my back by donating like that to Saint John’s?
“They send quite the contributions, which is a big part of why we’re constantly expanding and investing into more outpatient clinics, and so on, instead of leaning on it all to maintain. Spencer is smart about the dispersal of donations, though. It’s all distributed outwardly instead of relied upon for survival. Something told us that, because the dollar amounts are unique and quite extreme, if they came to be expected and then suddenly withdrawn, Saint John’s would have a serious problem. We’ve gone out of our way to avoid that scenario.”
“I’m thankful you gentlemen have found better ways to use the funds,” I said, and suddenly feeling like there was a world of shit going on behind my back and that, in my parents’ minds, they were allowing me to live out here and work at the hospital.
This move was all part of their control, and I had a sinking feeling that they’d set this up as Plan B if I didn’t drop everything and come home when they beckoned me. Would they really threaten to cut off funding to the hospital, thinking it was entirely reliant upon them, as a way to force me to come home and do my part like my brothers? Fucking blackmail? Jesus Christ, I wouldn’t have had the slightest clue if Jim didn’t say anything.
“I see the look on your face,” Jim said somberly. “Because I understand the reasoning behind the staff situation in the home, and now this, I’m going to tell you something as a friend. I’ve seen this shit in these fucked up circles of wealth before, so if there is more to your situation and familial obligations, and they decided to blackmail you with what we’ve talked about, know that Saint John’s will not be affected if they pull their interest from it. We have many other parties who are well invested in the place. So, Saint John’s will be the same in the future as ever, regardless of whether the Asters will continue to donate.”
“I’m glad you told me this,” I said. “Because, yes, at any moment, my parents could demand me to return to the family and do what I was born to do.”
“And that is?” Jake questioned as if he were confused as fuck about the conversation his brother and I were having.
“Focusing on what generations before me have focused on. Our family’s wealth and status. Currently, my brothers are playing the old money game and keeping my parents at bay and not needing me to be involved.”
“You are part of that wealth,” Collin said, his eyes telling me he understood my life very well. “You’re just not needed at this time, but they will make their demands, and you will comply. It’s very interesting that Jim and Spence picked up on the games your parents have played.”
“No different than any other game our wealthy investors play with us,” Jim said with a smile. “It’s why I want you to know not to do anything to ruin the life you’ve made for yourself out of fear that the hospital will be affected.”
“I had no intention of doing anything of the sort,” I said, fucking pissed that my life was somehow on display because my parents had to have control over it.
“And that’s how it should be,” Jake grinned and raised his glass. “To the cute doctor from labor and delivery. May he love us as much as we love him, and may he love the beautiful ski bunny walking up behind him more than the money that will one day be used to blackmail him.”
I turned and glimpsed Mickie giggling with the other ladies, and my heart wanted to pound out of my chest at the sight of her. Her long auburn curls danced along her powder blue ski jacket, and her tall, sleek frame was accentuated by how her ski suit clung to her perfectly. I’d never known love or intrigue like this for a woman, and I wouldn’t lose her.
What Jim had just said was not to scare me but to inform me. I think he caught onto the bullshit this morning after Jenkins acted like a goddamn rogue for my mother. Jim Mitchell wasn’t a successful billionaire because he was desirable to the ladies; the man was sharp. And after I explained to him how my parents were intruding on all of us this morning, he put it all together.