Page 126 of Hot Lap
His mouth curls, but not into a smile. "Relax. I'm not here to rehash that. I just felt, since you’re still in the picture, we should have a conversation."
Still in the picture. Right. ’Cause I'm a mistake his son should’ve erased by now. The condescension is so thick I could spread it on toast.
I step back to admit him, close the door, and cross my arms. "Fine. Converse."
He surveys the room like he expects me to have coke and whores stashed everywhere. Then his focus lands on me. "Don’t mistake attention for approval. The second Reece realizes his error, he’ll replace you with a more suitable option. Plan accordingly, Maiken."
Wow. Right out the gate with the warm fuzzies.
"Thanks for the tip, Graham. Is that why you came up here? To tell me your son’s fickle and I’m disposable?"
"I think you're smart enough to ride the wave while it lasts. But don’t forget, everyone loves a redemption arc, until they don't."
He thinks I’m smart. Oh. Wow. Lucky fucking me.
Still, he’s revealed something useful. He’s realized I'mnotstupid, and he’s now viewing me like I’m competition. Which means I'm more of a threat than he wants to admit.
I tilt my head and give him bitch-itude. "You mean your redemption arc? Because you’re the one who called me a whore. Doesn’t seem like the kind of attitude that makes people root for you, Graham.”
His jaw twitches. Just barely, but I clock it. First crack in the armor.
Well done, Maiken.
"Your little stunt with Betterton didn’t hurt us as much as you think. We spun it. The fans love a woman with teeth. As long as she remembers who’s feeding her."
Mylittle stunt?This guy’s amazing. He's also showing his hand. Graham's been working damage control behind the scenes, which means my truth disrupted his narrative line more than he's letting on.
I step closer. "Let me be real clear. No one feeds me. Not you. Not your show. Not even Reece. I earned my own bread long before I ever met any of you."
His expression doesn't change, but I catch the tiny shift in his posture. He didn't expect me to push back this hard. Most people probably crumble under his disapproval, but I grew up in Las Vegas. I’ve seen it all, and Graham Pritchard is just another goddamn asshole in an expensive suit.
I don’t let up. "You want to play the game? Play it. But don’t get cocky about it. That’s where people like you trip up."
A flicker of something flashes in his eyes. Disdain, maybe. Or the tiniest bit of unease. Either way, I’ve gotten under his skin, which isoutstanding. He came here to rattle me, but I’m the one hitting the bars.
He steps back. "Don’t say I didn’t warn you."
Yeah, you better back the fuck up.
He’s dropped seeds of doubt in my path and thinks he can piss on them and watch them sprout. Except I see where he’s weak. Graham can threaten, manipulate, and scheme but he can't actually force me out. The power he thinks he has over me only works if I give it to him.
I point at the door. "You may leave. And don’t come knocking again without an invitation."
He scowls, but obeys. Graham’s an ass, but at least he’s not a predator like Junior. It’s faint praise.
I shut the door behind my fucking father-in-law.
Then lock it, and latch it, and cuss up a storm. “Motherfucking cock-sucking arrogant piece of shit!”
I draw a deep breath and let it go. “Is that better?” I ask myself. “Yes, much. Better out than in, Maiken.”
I turn back to the table and take my seat. The chicken’s still hot. The green beans still glisten with butter. And the lemon tart is still exactly what I want.
I’m not giving Graham this moment. He doesn’t get to ruin my dinner, my marriage, or my life.
I cut a bite of chicken, chew slowly, and just breathe. Graham Pritchard thinks he can walk into my space and make me feel small, but he's so fucking wrong. I built myself from nothing once before. I can do it again if I have to. But I won't have to, because this time I'm not alone. He has no say in my marriage. Reece made that abundantly clear, and so did I.
Still, I need to tell Reece what happened tonight. He should know that his father continues to slither around our feet like a snake in the grass.
