I glance at Tyler, wondering if his father was who he’d been responding to while we were on the bridge.
“He’s right this way, sir.” The man holds out a palm toward the front desk.
“Now?” Tyler asks.
The man flinches, clearly uncomfortable. “Yes, sir. He insists on meeting with you right away.”
“Meeting?” I ask, the word an awkward shape as it leaves my tongue.
Tyler sighs heavily, his hand at my waist loosening. “Why don’t you go get changed and take a car to the event. This might take a bit.” He faces me, his blue eyes roving across my face. “I will be there as soon as I can, before the speeches and champagne.”
“I can wait.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to be late. We should have just stopped and bought some clothes and gone. I had no idea he’d come all the way here.” He stretches his neck, his jaw ticking with impatience. “There should be a bag inside the room. Bring it with you.”
“A bag?”
“A gift.”
“A gift?”
He chuckles, his thumbs brushing along my jaw. “Be careful. If you’re going to repeat everything I say, I’m going to start talking a lot dirtier. To hell with having an audience.”
I feel the stain of embarrassment creep along my cheeks.
He laughs, and though it’s bridled, it’s genuine and calms the butterflies in my stomach. “I’ll see you soon.” He leans forward, kissing me.
29
Tyler
I’m escorted into the conference room like a prisoner. Inside the small room, my father sits at the head of the table, a glass tumbler in one hand.
I take a deep breath, waiting for him to begin yelling, already knowing the points he’s going to hit and ill-prepared for most. After all, my decision to fire Avery was only half logic; the rest was purely personal.
Dad nods at the employee he’s treated like a lackey, waiting for the door to close before turning his attention to me. “You took a very considerable risk yesterday.”
I have to cock my head to the side to ensure I heard him right. My dad isn’t one for small talk. He also doesn’t play mind games when it comes to anger—he saves that for revenge when someone dares to cross him.
I’m still not positive I haven’t.
“I spent most of my flight going over things with Phil”—my father’s right-hand man—“and we agree with your decision. It was risky and impulsive, but Ken Avery was positioned to steal more from us than what we would have gained in litigation, so I stand by your decision.”
I’ve avoided his calls, emails, and texts for nearly twenty-four hours. I know this isn’t all of what he’s come to say, because if it were, he wouldn’t have boarded a plane and come this far. “Where’s Lewis?”
Dad’s smile gives nothing away, calm and reserved as if I’ve just talked about the nice weather or complimented his suit. “Have a seat. Let’s talk.”
I glance at the clock, wondering if Chloe’s still upstairs getting changed or if she’s left for the event. “I have plans tonight. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be coming out here.”
“You wouldn’t. You didn’t answer your phone.” Another sip. This time, his eyes cut to me, the accusation clear.
“I’ve had a lot on my plate.”
“So I’ve heard.” He folds his hands on the table and stares at me, his face impassive, stoic. I’m still not sure what his intentions are, but I do know he’s not going to discuss them until I’m seated. Regardless of which sword my father wields, manipulation always drips from his blade.
I resign and take a seat though it feels like bowing—like lying.
Dad smiles, reaching for his glass again. “Are you really in that big of a rush?”
“I have plans,” I remind him.
“Tell me about her.”
He knows Chloe’s name. I’m sure of the fact. Likely, there’s an entire history of her on company letterhead tucked into his briefcase, complete with grades, past teachers, jobs, and more. A dark side of me hopes it will mention her ex’s name. I try to shy away from that thought, but it festers, making it difficult for me to focus on his question. “What more can I tell you that you don’t already know?”
He flashes a crooked smile. Takes another sip. Sets his glass down. Stares at me.
“She’s bloody brilliant.” I don’t tell him that she doesn’t care about our money or about our name, because he would take that as a slap in the face rather than assurance. It’s a tough line of respect and gratification that he expects.
He grins. “That’s all she has going for her? That’s what’s had you skipping meetings and showing up late?”
My heart pounds in my throat. He’s goading me, trying to get a reaction because in my father’s perverse world, you constantly have to prove something’s worth, and in this case, Chloe is a possession—a liability. “I haven’t been late for a single meeting, and the only meetings I canceled were from today, and that’s only because I knew we’d have to be on-site continuously throughout the merger and construction. It’s absolutely no reflection on her. She helped me figure out what a snake Avery was.”
Dad chuckles. “I know. I was pulling your leg. She seems like a real catch. And from what I’ve heard, much of the staff has been impressed by you—with you. They say you’re asking good questions and finding solutions on the spot. And now, with you finding this issue with Avery…” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t be prouder.”
I wait for the other shoe to drop.
“Have you spoken to your mother lately?”
I work to hide my confusion and try to recall the last time I spoke with her. “Not recently. Is everything okay?”
He nods. “Oh, yes. She’s fine. She’s been busy, though. She’s taking a stained glass class. Can you believe it? Your mum working with stained-glass?” He shrugs. “Apparently, she likes it. Says it
