Page 106 of Don't Bet On It
I’d expected her to say that. “Okay. I’ll change my clothes and head out to the house. I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”
TALLULAH OFFERED TO GO WITH ME, BUT Ipolitely declined. I felt stronger around her, but this was something I had to do on my own. I gave her a reassuring kiss—in front of an audience, no less—and then left her to brainstorm with the others.
It was time I had a conversation with my father.
He was home, which I was grateful for since he liked to spend his afternoons on the golf course. My mother was not present, which was also a good thing. She would’ve insisted I explain the entire thing to her, and I didn’t have the time or inclination for that.
The butler ushered me into the house without a smile. None of the butlers my father employed were happy people. In contrast, all of the cooks my mother hired—and then spent timelearning from in the kitchen—adored her. My father didn’t see anything wrong with being despised by his employees. That was another thing we would never see eye to eye on.
“Ronan.” My father looked up from his newspaper—he still had a physical one delivered to the house daily—and fixed me with an unreadable look. “This is a surprise.”
“Dad.” I bobbed my head in greeting. There was no warmth in the smile I shot him, but he’d never cared about that before. I didn’t expect him to start caring now. “Is Mom expected back?”
“She’s spending the night at a spa.” Dad made a face. “I’m sure she’s getting wrapped in dead leaves and bathing in mud even as we speak. Do you need her for something?”
“Actually, I’m here to see you.”
“Is that so?” He put down his newspaper and gestured toward the settee across from him. “Have a seat. This looks like a serious conversation.”
“It is.” I did as he instructed. Fighting over the little things wouldn’t get me anywhere. This was a big thing that deserved my full focus.
“I guess it’s too much to hope that you’ve changed your mind and decided to come work for the company.” He didn’t say it in a manner that made me think he believed it was a possibility.
“That’s never going to happen,” I replied so he was doubly sure. “I don’t want to work for the company. It’s too much pressure. I find no joy in the business angle of things. I just… It’s not what I want.”
Rather than argue, Dad nodded. “Your mother sat me down a few days ago and said just that.”
“I’ve been telling you that for years.”
“I know. I guess it just wouldn’t seep in.” Defeat dragged down his shoulders. “Is it so wrong to want my son to follow in my footsteps?”
“No, but when I made it clear that’s not what I wanted, why couldn’t you let it go?”
“You’re my son. I wanted you to be a part of the family business.”
“I want—no, need—to do my own thing.”
“I know.” He glanced out the window. “I guess I’m the one who is going to have to adjust on this one.”
“You definitely are,” I readily agreed. “That’s not why I’m here, though.”
Suspicion lined his features as he turned back to me. “Why are you here?”
I took a deep breath. This was what I’d come here to do. I couldn’t back down now even though my father appeared to be in a melancholy mood. “I need to know what you’ve been doing with Ryder Stone,” I blurted, not giving myself a chance to back out.
Dumbfounded disbelief seemed to blow through my father. “How…” He didn’t finish the question.
“How did I know? I saw you guys together, not once but twice. Once I was in Paris with a friend.” She was way more than a friend, and I wanted to normalize that. “With my girlfriend,” I corrected. “Then I saw you with him another time.”
Rather than start shoveling shit at my shoes to cover for himself, Dad looked tired. “He’s been relentless. He thinks I can go to the casino board and plead his case so he can get his license back. I told him that’s not a thing, and even if it was, I wouldn’t help him. He won’t let it go.”
I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I made an exasperated motion with my hands. “That’s it?”
“What else is there?”
“He’s openly plotting against his own children to retake the Stone.”
Dad did something I never expected and burst out laughing. “Of course he is. He’s always been a plotter. That has nothing to do with me, though.”
