Page 17 of Denying Davis
I had to fight every cell in my body to keep from looking at him. By the time I got to my car, I’d already started crying. My life sucked. Period. No question. Some people had it easy, but I never would.
After Samantha left, I sat alone at the table for a long time. Mostly, I stared into the abyss, searching through my memories for an answer about why she seemed so skittish and upset about encountering me again.
I couldn’t come up with a decent explanation. It seemed so bizarre. Women didn’t normally react to me that way, either. Most of the time, they fought to get more time with me, not less.
Eventually, I left a twenty on the table and drove home to the beach house. I parked the car in the empty space in the four-car garage and made my way through the back garden, past one of the three pools on the property. There was no denying how manicured and gorgeous the place was; my grandfather had snatched up two “fixer-upper” mansions on South Ocean in the eighties then combined the renovated buildings into one property connected with a large catwalk.House and Garden,Architectural Digest, andHouse Beautifulhad all photographed the property, andTown and Countyhad called it a triumph in preservation and design.
When he died, I’d inherit it all.
I shuffled into the main house still in a fog over what had happened. We’d been so close once, and I’d been in love with Sam. I couldn’t deny that, not when I looked back on the memories and was honest about my feelings. And I knew she’d felt the same. But now Samantha looked at me like I was something she needed to throw away as fast as she could.
Why?
Then another thought crashed into my mind. Why not?
Why would she want me when I know nothing about her life now? What was I thinking, barging into her life, demanding her to see me as more when I was moving nine hours away to start my career?
But she hadn’t wanted anything to do with me, and that’s what bugged me the most. We used to tell each other everything, and I missed that.But maybe she has someone else in her life who owns her heart and hears all her thoughts.
I walked straight to the wine fridge in the kitchen and pulled out the open bottle of sauvignon blanc. It wasn’t the strongest stuff in the house, but it would take the edge off and help me relax. And relaxation was hardly what I’d been doing since I’d arrived in Palm Beach. I’d mostly been on edge, so much on my mind that my body had a dull ache and my nights had been sleepless.
I uncorked the bottle and swallowed a large swig.Fuck it.Whatever. After the first gulp slid down my throat, I took another, longer one.
Then I noticed the handwritten letter on the counter, in unmistakable sharp script. Grandfather wanted me to join him for breakfast the following morning so we could “go over a few things.” I knew what that meant without him having to elaborate. He wanted to discuss the transition for me to get a larger role in the company.
My moment had arrived. He was eighty-five, after all, and well past the point of retirement. It was time for me to take on the responsibility my father had left in my hands on the night he’d killed himself. Was I ready?
Yes,I thought.Yes, I am. This is what I’ve spent years preparing for. And I should feel excited…Driven. But now I’m thinking about Sam.“Have a nice life.”Have a nice life?
No doubt Sam had heard about my father, so how she could suggest I’d have a nice life with hislegacyacross my shoulders was ludicrous. He stole part of mynice lifewhen he selfishly and cowardly took his own life six years ago. To this day, I haven’t forgiven him, and doubted I ever would.
I drank another swig of wine, corked the bottle, and placed it back in the wine fridge. The old man ate breakfast at eight every morning by the pool, and he’d expect me to be there, fresh and ready to hear his demands. I needed to put my concerns about Samantha aside and remember my place as the heir to the Armstrong empire. This family, and our companies, had a future, and I was going to lead them.
The following morning, I woke before seven, threw on some clothes, and sprinted to the gym on the other end of the property, adjacent to the four tennis courts. There, I logged five miles on the treadmill, another twenty minutes lifting weights, then jumped in the shower before changing into a pair of shorts and a golf shirt.
I arrived at breakfast just as Grandad’s butler served him his morning coffee.
“Have a seat, son,” Grandfather boomed from his place behind the outdoor table. From his vantage point, he had a perfect view of the pool, patio, and gardens. He pointed at the bougainvillea that wrapped around the legs of a pergola in the garden. “See that? It’s really starting to come in.”
“Very nice,” I replied, though I didn’t care for horticulture the way he did. Grandad knew all the little details about the plants that made up his garden—everything from how to grow orchids to the exact number of days bougainvillea bloomed during a Palm Beach winter. “The purple is vibrant this year.”
The butler asked if I wanted coffee, and I ordered some. He told us breakfast would be ready soon and left us alone on the patio. Senior sized me up.
“You went to the gym this morning?” he asked, but it wasn’t a real question. He knew everything that happened on the property, thanks to a combination of closed-circuit cameras and willing staff informants.
“I did. Needed it to help wake me up since I had a late night.”
Grandpa grunted. “And did you have fun?”
“I did.”
He regarded me over the rim of his thin glasses. “As I mentioned before, I’m glad you’re down here for a little while. We have a lot to discuss now that your schooling is over.”
“Yes, we do.” I paused. “And I’m thinking of staying here a few more weeks. Spending more time in Palm Beach as we make the plans.”
“I’m glad to hear it; I’ve been considering some options.” A smirk passed across his weather-beaten face and deepened the wrinkles around his mouth. “I know you don’t want to jump too much into the business before you are able to get a handle on what we have.”
“Agreed.” I decided to measure my reactions to my grandfather. He didn’t like people to seem too eager and preferred people conduct business with a poker face. He’d often said enthusiasm could be mistaken for weakness. “I was hoping something with tech, or trends related to venture capital.”
