Zac hardly ever left before five on a Saturday, but he was gone by three on this particular day. Carrie understood. After all, he had something he felt that he needed to do.
He burst into his father's study. "Dad, can I talk to you?"
Walker held up a finger for silence. He typed another line or so before turning to Zac. "What is it, son?"
Zac poured out the story about the surgeon in L.A. and the need for a supply of cash, finishing with, "I'd really like to help, Dad. After all, this was my fault."
Walker tapped his pen against his lip. "Zac, where are you going to get money like that?"
Zac stared at him in amazement. "Where? I'm sorry, Dad, if I sound smart-mouthed, but where do you think? I'm a multi-millionare. I'm going to take the money out of the account. If Mom can get a tummy tuck and Isaac can buy a 'Vette, why can't I help out my best friend in the world?"
"That's a little selfish, isn't it?" Walker rubbed his goatee as he always did when he was getting annoyed. "To take your brothers' money and spend it on some girl, because of something that happened over a year ago?"
Zac stood up. "Selfish, my ass! That is our money, and by God, I will use it if I damn well please. Go back to your typing, Dad. I'm going to go get a real job."
