Page 88 of How to Resist Prince Charming

“Haven’t you caught on yet, old man? You’re her father. I couldn’t have fired you if you’d been the fucking embezzler.” To his own horror, his voice cracked.

His face turned hot. “Get out,” he snapped, hoping the man would scram before he lost it.

Thankfully, Tom stumbled backward, reaching blindly behind him for the exit.

* * * *

Braxton stopped by the liquor store on his way home and had the bottle open by the time he staggered through the front door.

He hadn’t nearly reached that happy place where nothing hurt anymore when his phone rang.

He had no idea what hour it was. Time had no meaning but pints and quarts, and his bourbon was three-fourths empty.

He checked his caller ID, not quite social enough to talk to anyone. But when he saw his parents’ number, he answered.

“Yeah?”

“Guess what?” his dad’s cheerful voice echoed through the line.

“Hmm?” Braxton muttered.

“You know that new doctor we started taking Savannah to a month or so ago? We haven’t seen Clara once since she’s started with him.”

This information actually had Braxton sitting straighter. “Really? That’s great, Dad. Do you think she’s cured?”

“No,” Spencer was quick to answer. He paused to clear his throat. “No, Doc says Clara’s still in there, inside Savannah’s head. But this treatment she’s going through is actually working. In another four to six years, she should be herself again.” He sucked in a breath. “God, Brax, you should see her. It’s like we have our old Savannah back.”

“Wow. That’s...That’s really amazing. I’m happy she’s better.” He meant his words, and actually felt guilty for drowning his misery about something so trivial when his sister had been struggling through serious problems.

“So, I was thinking,” Spencer started.

“You’re ready to come back to Farris,” Braxton finished for him.

His father remained quiet a moment before he sighed. “Yes. I am.”

Braxton nodded. “Then, I’ll tell the crew tomorrow.”

“Wait. Are you sure you’re okay with this? I know we talked about it before you took over, but since you’ve been in charge for a while—”

“Dad,” Braxton cut in, “it’s perfectly fine. You have to be going stir crazy at home with nothing to do. Your employees miss you and, well, Greg keeps begging me to return to ProTech.”

“He has?” Relief filled Spencer’s voice. “That’s great. I’m glad everything’s going to work out. And maybe Tom will ease up on you over his daughter since you’re not going to be his boss anymore. You two kids could get back together.”

“Yeah,” Braxton murmured. “Maybe.” When Hell transferred to the North Pole.

He and Lenna were over. The end. And there was no way he was going to torture himself by returning to ProTech, where he’d see her every miserable day he went to work. Damn it, he’d shot himself in the foot for getting her that job.

Braxton hung up with his father a moment later and stared at the phone thoughtfully.

Lenna was still at ProTech, wasn’t she? He hadn’t heard any news about her in two weeks.

Maybe she hated her workload and wanted to quit. Maybe she already had. Or maybe Greg didn’t like her performance and had fired her.

Thinking there was a chance he might be able to return to his old job, Braxton glanced at the phone still in his hand and dialed Greg.

“Brax, man,” his boy answered on the third ring. “Wuz up? You ready to come back to ProTech yet?”

Yes, please, he was so ready.

---