Page 5 of Jesse

Why only me?

Everything Johnny did. Everything my father did. No one ever saw any of it. All they ever saw was me. Fucking up.

I just never understood that. And it got to me. It got to me pretty bad back when I was a teenager. That’s how my twenties turned into one long drunken, drugged-up sex party.

But I’m not such a bad guy. I’ve cleaned up my act a lot since my father’s funeral five years ago. A lot. I’m a totally different guy, but no one cares. All they see is the boy in the tabloids. The golden-haired, spoiled, rich asshole.

It’s really not fair.

Everyone in my position would’ve done the exact same thing in their twenties. It’s your twenties, for fuck’s sake. That’s what they’re for. Fucking off and fucking girls.

And racing yachts.

I smile. Because I’d do it all again. I wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Fuck the public. Fuck all the people. They don’t know me. They have no clue what my brothers and I have been through. And anyone who judges someone they don’t know is the asshole, not the one being judged.

They see the public persona my father cultivated. They see the yearly listings under Richest Men in the World in those finance magazines. They see our good looks and the tall building we live in, and they hear rumors. Rumors about money and how we spend it. Is it anyone’s fucking business how we spend it?

So what if I like yachts? Joey likes racehorses. And Johnny likes to collect art.

But yachts, no. That’s what people focus on. That’s why they hate me.

I smirk into the mirror. Can’t help it.

Because it’s possible—maybe even probable—that guys like me give yachts a bad name and not the other way around.

“Stop it,” Zach says, entering the room again.

I glance at him in the mirror. “What?”

“I can hear that spoiled, rich asshole voice in your head. You did this to yourself, Jesse. No one did this to you.”

“Fuck off. I wasn’t thinking that. And besides, I’ve changed. I’m a totally different person these days.”

“So you say,” Zach says.

“I take care of you, don’t I? You didn’t see Johnny or Joey come to your rescue when you found out you were broke.”

“I’m not broke. I’m just—”

“Waiting for that trust fund. Yeah, I get it. Is the car downstairs or what?”

“Yup. We’re all set.”

“Then let’s go do this thing.”

Change the hearts and minds of the public.

Or…whatever.

CHAPTER THREE - EMMA

Confession time.

I hired a stylist for tonight.

I’ve done this before. It’s not my first glam-night rodeo. The first time was when Bright Berry Beach Cosmetics was up for an opportunity award. One million dollars on the line and we won it. That was our first big break and while we didn’t have the extra money to hire the stylist because that kind of award takes a while to come in and we were on a tight budget, we did it anyway. Just one girl for all four of us. That’s all we could afford.