Page 95 of Misrule
The two men offered slights bows, then walked out of the room and closed the door.
“Son, I’m not one to interfere in your private life. It’s your business, but I must admit to concern.”
Although Knox would prefer if his father kept his opinion to himself, he respected the man too much not to give him the courtesy of hearing him out. “I understand, Dad.”
His father took a deep swallow of whisky. “Look around you, Knox. What do you see?”
Doing as his father asked, Knox noted the wooden floors offset by top-of-the-line area rugs. Walls divided by chair rails donned silk wallpaper and white-painted wood. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. On the opposite side of the room, a round table stood, surrounded by four chairs, and stacked with design books. The lone case in the room held samples of ties and other accessories men needed. All of it screamed money and status.Class.
“I see the world I was born into.” For as long as Knox remembered, he’d come to Tottingham’s. As he’d gotten older, he’d spread his wings and went to stores with Cam, where ready-wear items were available. But the majority of Knox’s clothes were tailored just for him.
“What will Tottie and Harold think of Roxanne if and when they ever meet her?”
Knox drained his glass. “I don’t care what they think of her, Dad. I love her and that’s all that matters.”
“She was fine as your girlfriend—”
“Enough!” Knox interrupted. “Either you accept her as my wife or you lose me as your son. There’s no negotiations.”
“You’d risk your mother and me disinheriting you for a woman who’s past her prime and can’t birth you more children?”
“Have you ever heard of adoption?” Knox snapped. “And, yes, I don’t need your goddamn money if it means following your every dictate. Take it and burn it.” He set his glass on the small table next to him and got to his feet. “If this is the only reason you agreed to accompany me to our first fitting, you could’ve stayed home.”
He hated to admit it, but the fitting at the Whittlestones had been much more enjoyable. The atmosphere had been relaxed and not so pretentious. In spite of the disagreeability of Mortician, Knox had had a much better time. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t imagine Grant enjoying the sternness of Tottingham and Harold.
Knox almost—almost—regretted his refusal of purchasing his tuxedo from the same place as the bikers.
“Tell me now. Is this a threat? Do you intend to disown me?”
“No,” his dad said after a tense moment. “You’re my only son, my only child, and I want what’s best for you.”
“Roxanne is best for me. She makes me happy. She gives my life meaning.”
“She’s abnormally common.”
Despite himself, Knox laughed. “Abnormallycommon? Really, Dad?”
His father smiled. “You know what I mean.”
Knox nodded, though he felt as if he betrayed Roxanne by agreeing. But she did have a very foul mouth. Not to mention a certain Navigator that remained stuck in Knox’s craw. Hecouldjust talk to her, but she could be so stubborn. He was afraid any conversation about either of those topics would dissolve into an argument. His words got ahead of him sometimes. By the time his brain caught up, he would’ve spewed his resentment and she’d never forgive him.
However, after the hot sex this morning, his mood had lifted—until Cash had come storming in and reminded Knox about the cameras.
“You know the ones, motherfucker? They aren’t turned off unless we decide not to record. Which is rare. Your saving fucking grace was that it was fucking dark. The footage has been erased. If Mortician had gotten to it, Digger would be cleaning your fucking guts up.”
“It wasn’t my idea,” Knox had fumed.
“Don’t give a fuck. It’s up to you to convince her to go to your fucking room. It’s your fucking job to protect her.”
“I forgot about the fucking cameras.” He hadn’t known they were on at all times.
“Next time, remember them.”
At that point, Roxanne had walked in, her body defining his Tee-shirt and sweats, her skin glowing and her eyes heavy-lidded. She’d been floating on the same cloud as him since he’d gotten her pre-dawn call where she told him she intended to do a booty call. Or, as she said it, a dick call.
He laughed.
“Son?”
