Page 13 of Great Pretender
Holy Jesus, no.
This isn’t happening.
“I didn’t do anything with her. We got dressed, and I had a driver take her back to her apartment.”
Billy sighs and raises his shoulders into a shrug. “I can’t do anything more, buddy.” He shakes his salt-and-pepper head. “Your father saw it and a few others. There are some articles floating around, but I managed to request them to be pulled. I honestly don’t think it’s going to make much difference here. Your father is furious.”
“How mad is he?” I glance between him and Murray because Murray is the one who looks most worried.
“Furious in the sense that he’s asked me to team up with Georgiou for the next six months,” Murray answers, and I literally feel the blood siphon from my body.
“Georgiou?” I have to ask because I’m experiencing a little more than shock here. In fact, I think I might be having a fucking aneurism.
Both Billy and Murray nod confirmation, and I recall that bad feeling I had yesterday.
This was it, and I made it worse by hiding away like an asshole.
My cousin Georgiou is a brownnosing prick who’s been trying to overpower me since I started working here. Both he and my uncle Roger have worked with Dad longer than I have, and I feared they’d be seen as more suitable candidates to own the company over me.
This is the start of it.
By taking Murray, Dad is essentially crippling me.
I don’t know what more to say, so I allow the adrenaline rushing through my blood to carry me straight to my father’s office. His door is already open, and like the king of the pride, Dad sits behind his grand mahogany desk with an air of authority that sends a shiver down my spine.
He was filling out a form, but my footsteps caught his attention.
As he lifts his head and our eyes lock, that feeling returns. This time, I have the perfect description for it. It’s doom.
I feel like that teenage boy again, and the realization of how badly I want to see my dreams of being the owner of the team hit me like a punch to the gut.
I won’t back down, though. I need to face the music and explain myself. Tell the truth. The whole fucking truth, if I must. That means all the thoughts I had about Piper that caused me to behave the way I did.
“Come in and close the door,” Dad says, straightening up.
I walk in and do as he says. Looking at him is like looking at an older version of myself. Dad is almost seventy but looks exceptional for his age. The two silver streaks at the side of his head and his peppered beard are the most significant indicators of his age. Other than that, he looks like a man who’d have no trouble knocking you off your ass if you crossed him.
That’s how he’s looking at me now.
I skip past pleasantries and sit in the chair in front of his desk when he motions for me to do so.
With his gaze trained on me, I can see the storm brewing deep in his dark blue gaze. When he reaches down to the floor and lifts a pile of what looks like yesterday’s newspapers, I know he’s more than furious, and I’m going to have to do some major groveling.
He pushes to his feet, sets the stack of newspapers down, and picks up the one on top.
With a firm hand, he lays it down before me. I don’t need to look at it. The headlines of these papers are all pretty much the same.
“I’ve contemplated asking you for an explanation. But I’m swiftly reminded that you’re a grown man I have no control over. The part I have to keep to the forefront of my mind is that you work for me, but damn it to hell, I really believed I’d be preparing to hand you the team and the company on my retirement.”
I tense at the mention of a plan. That’s the most forthright he’s been since his announcement. While it’s good to know I was on the right track, I feel sick when I think of the tone he’s taking. Like those plans are no longer what he wants.
“Don’t you still want to do that?” I ask.
“Not. Like. This.”
“Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t do what the papers think I did, and I know the damage is done, but it won’t happen again.”
He knocks the stack of newspapers over, and they slide across his table like dominoes toppling over.
