Page 70 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

Uncle Thomas turned towards me. His face shone with purpose. “Exactly. The fact that we sold Rich-Witty made that impossible. So, the Vice are his only legacy to the family. We can all work together. You with your new MBA, Gregory, and myself. I can mentor you in the way that your father always intended to do.”

I hesitated. This happy possibility gleamed before me: a way to make things up to my father. Maybe even a way to continue seeing Chris. But then I remembered everything I had read in the deposition.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Thomas. Regardless of whether we sell the team or not, the Vice need to be run properly—by real hockey people and not just our family. And besides, if the mediation was decided against you, wouldn’t it be a good idea to take some time off before working again?”

I hated tiptoeing around this topic, but he kept insisting he was innocent, so it was difficult to speak openly.

He sighed. “I have learned from this experience. When I return to my position, there will be no more mixing business with pleasure. Besides, now you’re there—to protect everyone. During the mediation, Adam explained about your new policies.”

His sudden admission of guilt took me by surprise. But I sensed that he was only changing position to further his agenda and not because he understood he had been a serial harasser.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I repeated.

Uncle Thomas lowered his voice. “It must be nice to be a woman in business, like you.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think there are any advantages.” Hockey wasn’t exactly a bastion of equality.

He leaned closer. “No, really. Even though you’ve shut me out of the management loop, I still have my sources. I know exactly what’s going on.”

“What are you talking about?” The soft, cold tone of his voice was making me nervous.

“I’m talking about the unfairness of the situation. Everyone thinks I’m a terrible villain. I’m being persecuted for ‘coercing an employee’ into a relationship—which is completely untrue. And yet you can do exactly the same thing—and nobody protests.”

“I’m not—” I hesitated. There was no way he could know what had happened between Chris and me last night. But in any case, what we had had together wasn’t the same thing at all. I shook my head. “What are you insinuating?”

“I hear that you’re never alone in your office—Chris Luczak is in there all the time. You go to games together, you lunch together, you work late. And last night you spent $25,000 on his auction donation.”

I kept shaking my head. The auction news was public knowledge, but who was telling him the rest? Brenda? Tori? Nancy? Even more than his tacky speculations, it hurt that someone I worked with was reporting my every move back to my uncle. And he didn’t even know I was meeting Chris later tonight. A thin veil of guilt lay over me, but I wasn’t going to give Uncle Thomas any satisfaction. “This is ridiculous.”

“Itisridiculous. Why would Luczak—the hockey hero of Vancouver, a man who could have any woman in the entire city—choose you?” He laughed. “Are you so naive that you don’t realize you’re being used? He was sent to the Vice to facilitate the purchase of the team, and the easiest route was through you. But it will be a different story once the ink is dry on the sale.”

Every word he said was like a body blow. Had I been influenced by how much I cared about Chris? And Chris could have any woman he wanted, not only in Vancouver, but anywhere in the world. He wouldn’t want me for more than a night or two.

I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but I hadn’t been raised by Jeannie and Vince Richardson for nothing. I pulled myself up tall and spoke in a firm voice. “I’m not in a relationship with Chris Luczak. But thank you for pointing out that I lack the qualities to attract someone like him. That only underlines your problems, Uncle Thomas. Not every woman can be reduced to a pretty face and a large pair of breasts.”

“Amanda, you’re so young. Young people see everything in black and white. There can be so many different kinds of... understandings between men and women. Stella was wholly the aggressor in our relationship, and she only turned upon me when she realized there was no future between us. I blame myself for not handling that part properly. But I was the real victim, and now my reputation and pocketbook are the worse for it.”

“Haven’t you learnt anything from this? It doesn’t matter who approached whom—it’s about power. You had money and influence, and the ability to fire her at any moment. That was why any relationship between the two of you was wrong—because she couldn’t say no!”

“You know nothing. You don’t understand.”

“I do. Someone sent me a partial transcript of her testimony. The things you did made me sick to my stomach. But it’s not only what you did to Stella. You neglected team management so that you could hire Ice Girls and pretty staff. So don’t tell me how much the family business meant to you. You need professional help before you work again anywhere.”

His face was twisted into a disgusted sneer now. “What a sanctimonious prig you are, Amanda. Poor Luczak has his work cut out for him, pretending to feel anything at all for someone like you. But your silly crush only demonstrates how unfit you are to make any decisions about the team. I was wrong, your father would be so disappointed to see what you’re doing now.”

“Do you really think so? I think he’d be proud to see how hard I’m working to keep the Vice afloat. These are people who need their jobs to live, and that’s why they’re vulnerable. I’m not worried about you—you have enough money to do whatever you want. I don’t want your job, and neither does Greg. But regardless of whether we sell or not, you will never return to bullying and badgering the women who work for the team.”

“Tea’s ready!” My mother swung open the door from the kitchen, and Bonita walked in with a silver tray loaded with tea paraphernalia and cookies. From her artificially bright voice, Mummy had either been listening or at least heard the volume of our voices increasing.

Uncle Thomas turned and the sneering expression disappeared. He smiled at my mother. “How kind of you, Jeannie. But unfortunately, I must go. Thank you for dinner.”

Ever polite, my mother saw him to the door and then returned to the dining room where I sat with shoulders slumped, staring at the pattern of the lace in the tablecloth.

She put her arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure he was horrible to you. He’s become such a bitter, twisted person. I think we all underestimated the influence your father had on Thomas and how much he protected him. And Beatrice aided him as well. I was rather peeved at her when she left him, but she must have had good reasons.” She stroked my hair—just like she did when I was small and protesting some injustice. “I hope he can find peace.”

I sniffed. “I hope he can stop harassing women. The guy is a master manipulator.”

“Yes, but it’s on the record now. I’m sure his lawyer has warned him that any further legal problems will be quite serious. Maybe he’ll find a nice woman and settle down.”

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