26. Twenty-Six

26

TWENTY-SIX

M y lunch meeting went as well as could be expected with the department heads. Everybody seemed happy, and there was a lot of encouragement being thrown around. It seemed they all wanted me to succeed when it was time to take over. The responses were welcome but somewhat surprising.

I’d grown up under the assumption that the employees loved my father. Since taking a more hands-on approach in recent months, I’d started to realize that wasn’t entirely true.

Nobody came right out and said they hated him. Little comments filtered through occasionally, though. Almost none of them were flattering.

Thank you so much for meeting with me. I’ve been trying to get through to your father for three weeks, but he’s always too busy.

Thank you for looking at my project suggestions. Your father told me to send my concerns in an email but never followed up.

I appreciate that you’re willing to consider changing the operation of the bar. Nothing has been updated for twenty years at this point, and we’re falling behind.

At first, I just smiled and nodded at the comments. The past few weeks, however, I’d been thinking about them more and more. Was my father really that out of touch with his own workforce? Did he stop caring, or had he always been this aloof?

I had a lot of questions for him. I was nervous to start posing them, though. That’s why, when he suggested a sit-down meeting after the lunch, I jumped at the chance. Maybe I could ask a few today and start doling them out. That might work.

I got my own coffee, arching an eyebrow when Dad poured himself a glass of bourbon. He was never one to drink during the day unless he was meeting outside businessmen he had a particular relationship with. This seemed like odd behavior.

Before I could ask if something was wrong, my father kicked off the conversation with a question I wasn’t expecting.

“So, how is married life?”

I smiled as I sat across from him and balanced my coffee mug on the arm of the chair. “It’s pretty good. It’s not nearly as hard as I thought it would be.”

Dad chuckled. “The first few months are the easiest part. It’s all sex and soft nothings whispered in the darkness.” His smile disappeared. “Talk to me again in a year when she’s bitching about you not being home enough.”

It was a dig at my mother, and I didn’t like it. “If Mom wants you home more, maybe we can start shifting some duties,” I started. “I mean… I know I’m not ready to take over yet, but if you want to start easing toward the retirement door, I get it.”

Rather than laugh at the suggestion, Dad leaned back in his chair and regarded me. “Do you think you’re ready for that?”

“I want to be ready.”

“That wasn’t really an answer.”

“We won’t know unless we try. Maybe we’ll start small so we’re both comfortable with it.”

Dad pursed his lips. “I’ve seen a marked change in you over the past few months,” he started. “It’s as if you’ve gotten more serious about things. I like that.”

I shifted on my chair, uncomfortable. “Why do I feel there’s a but coming on?” I hedged.

“But…” He dragged it out, amusement coursing over his features. “Do you really think Olivia is built for this life?”

The question was like a kick to the stomach. “Why wouldn’t she be?” I asked, forcing myself to remain calm. This wasn’t a personal attack on my wife, I told myself. This was simply Ryder Stone being Ryder Stone. He was a judgmental prick. His opinion on my wife held no bearing on my future. At least not that way.

“I like Olivia,” Dad said quickly. “She’s spunky, smart, she’s pretty.”

“Beautiful,” I corrected automatically.

“I actually prefer them blond, but okay.” Dad’s shrug was lackadaisical.

My mother was a brunette, so hearing my father say that was irritating. “You mean other than Mom, right?”

“Your mother is a good woman. She has a good head on her shoulders and knows how to schmooze with the best of them. We both know I married her for more practical reasons, however.”

Practical reasons? Just what was that supposed to mean? “I don’t think I’m following you.” It took everything I had to keep my temper in check. I wanted to hear what he had to say, though.

“Your mother’s father was an important man in Vegas when I was coming up.”

“Grandpa Whitaker.” I nodded. “I don’t really remember him.”

“He died when you were five. You liked him, though. He used to keep licorice in his pockets and he’d feed you candy even though we asked him not to. You were a manic little thing when you got hopped up on sugar.”

“I have a few memories that involve him,” I replied, ignoring the dig. “Not a lot of them, though.”

“Well, he was an important man with a big bank account. My father and Cora’s father are the ones who came together and decided we would be a good match. I was dating Desiree Tanner at the time.” Dad took on a far-off expression. “Man, she was a looker. A real blonde, if you know what I mean.” He waggled his eyebrows.

My father had never talked to me like this. I was starting to wish he’d stuck with his initial inclination to keep these thoughts buttoned up. This was not something I wanted to hear.

“I knew I would never marry Desiree. That’s not how it worked back then. She was a fun distraction. She wasn’t, however, a life partner. I cared about her in my way, but when my father came to me with the idea of marrying your mother, I understood the merits of that decision.”

My temper could no longer be contained. “What are you trying to say?”

“We’re just having a conversation.”

“No, you basically just told me that you never loved my mother.”

“And that’s a surprise to you?” Dad cocked his head. “Our marriage was the merger of two powerful Vegas families. We had the children we were expected to have—although I would’ve preferred we get you out of the deal right away and forego your sisters—but we got it done.”

I carefully placed my mug on the table next to the chair. “Why are you saying this to me?” I was beyond bothered. “I don’t understand why we’re having this conversation.”

“When I told you that it was time to get serious about your life and suggested you find an appropriate woman, the last thing I expected was for you to go out and marry the daughter of nobodies.” Dad steepled his fingers on the desk. “I had planned on suggesting a merger between our family and another family. The Dawber girl over at Cosmopolitan is your age and might make a good match.”

It was only then that I realized what this conversation was really about. “Wait.” I held up my hand. “Are you seriously about to tell me that I disappointed you by marrying Olivia?”

“The girl seems smart,” Dad said. “If she does it for you looks wise, so be it. She is not, however, a good match for the business side of things.”

“Well, I didn’t marry her for business.” As soon as the words were out, I internally cringed. But you did, my inner voice reminded me. You married her to get your father off your back. The relationship had changed of course, but the origins were still murky.

“I know you didn’t.” My father was clearly oblivious to my inner struggle. “I appreciate that you clearly have feelings for the girl. My thing is … this is not what our family needs.”

“What are you getting at?” I practically exploded.

“You need a different wife.” Dad was matter of fact. “You need someone who can shore up our cash flow and create a partnership with another casino. That’s why I’m so big on the Dawber girl. She’s pretty without being trashy. If you want to keep your relationship with Olivia going in the background, I’m sure that can be arranged. I think we need to start looking at the bigger picture, though.”

My mouth was hanging open. Genuine shock had me shaking my head. Before I could eviscerate him with words, however, my father’s latest secretary—her name was Wren and she seemed to have the mental capacity of butter—appeared in the doorway.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Stone,” Wren said in her high-pitched voice. “Your daughter-in-law is here to see you.”

“Please show her in, Wren.” Dad winked at Wren in a predatory manner, and for the first time in—well, forever—I saw exactly who he was. This man who I had been so fearful of was a monster. He’d always been a monster. He wasn’t misunderstood. He wasn’t trying to do the best thing for our family. He was trying to do the best thing for himself. That was all he cared about.

Multiple arguments fought through the fog in my head as I debated what to say. Then Wren’s words finally registered, and I swiveled quickly to find Olivia walking through the door. She had a stack of papers in her hand. I recognized the papers from her ongoing project that regularly took over my living room.

“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Stone.” Olivia pulled up short when she saw me stand on shaky legs. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were here.” She blinked several times in rapid succession.

“We were talking,” I said blandly. It was a stupid thing to say, but I felt as if the floor was falling out from under me. The same thing kept going through my head over and over again. She can’t be here. He’ll hurt her. Get her out, and you can handle him without her present. Don’t let her be hurt.

“Okay.” Olivia swallowed hard. She looked as if she was feeling the same emotions I was, which gave me pause.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as I scrambled for an emotional anchor.

“I’m here to talk to your father.” She looked distinctly uncomfortable. “It might be best if you’re not here for this conversation.”

“On the contrary,” Dad boomed. “We were just having a discussion about you. I think it’s best if we all sit down to work this out together.”

“No!” The word blared out, and I shook my head, throwing a warning look toward Dad in the process.

“You were talking about me?” Olivia clutched her pile of papers to her chest. “How come?”

“I was just telling Dad how well things were going,” I replied. She cannot be here. He will ruin this for you, and you’re in no headspace to keep her safe. “He was telling me about how things were at the start with my mother. It’s not important.” I focused on the pile of paper and grasped at the one thing that was starting to push through the haze in my mind. “Wait … did you figure it out?”

I couldn’t be certain, but it almost looked as if Olivia hesitated for a moment. She caught herself, though, and nodded. “I did figure it out.” Slowly, she tracked her eyes to Dad. “That’s why I’m here. I thought we could have a conversation.”

This was much better than the conversation my father wanted to have with her. If I wasn’t careful, he would lay out his plan to end our marriage and bring in some casino heiress to take her place, but not before offering Olivia a chance to hang around as my mistress, like some dirty little secret.

I needed to make it very clear to my father that I wouldn’t be going along with his plan. On top of that, the only thing I knew with any certainty, was that Olivia was here for the long haul. This woman, she’d become my life. I’d be keeping her. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

“Tell us what you have,” I suggested, motioning toward the chair next to mine.

She gave me a tentative smile. “Are you sure? I can talk to your father alone if you want.”

Absolutely not. I would die before I let that happened. “No way.” I shook my head. “I want to know what you found. I can’t believe you finally cracked it.”

“Yes, well, I’m as surprised as you.” Olivia sat in the chair, still cradling the papers. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. Was she that afraid of my father?

“And what project have you been working on?” Dad asked. He looked utterly bored with the conversation, even going so far as to check his ridiculously expensive watch. “Do you have a charity you want us to fund? If so, Zach can handle that. He knows what to do.”

“This isn’t about a charity,” Olivia replied. “This is about the missing money.”

Perplexed lines showed up on my father’s face. “I’m not sure I’m following. What missing money?”

“The money from the audit I was doing,” I volunteered, rubbing my forehead. “I couldn’t let it go. The numbers not adding up correctly didn’t sit well with me. Since Olivia is an accountant—and she’s good at what she does—I asked her to go through what I had. She’s been working on it for weeks.”

My father no longer looked as if he was king of the castle. No, he looked as if he was the one who was about to be sick. “I didn’t ask you to do that!” he practically roared.

“You didn’t have to ask me to do it,” I replied. “It’s part of my job description.”

“I said I was going to handle it.” Spittle formed at the corners of Dad’s mouth he was so worked up. “Why would you do this?”

“What are you so mad about?” I demanded. “If Olivia has found the source of the problem, why wouldn’t you be happy about it?”

Olivia was the one who answered, not him. “Because he’s the source,” she replied in a low voice. “He’s the one who embezzled the money.”

I had to have misheard her. “Of course he’s not. That makes no sense. He has plenty of money.”

“I’m not sure why he’s been taking the money, but it’s definitely him,” Olivia replied. Her gaze was soft when it was on me. Then it turned hard when she turned to my father. “Do you want to tell him, or should I?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Dad replied. “She’s making it up.”

I wasn’t a master at reading my father, but I did know when he was lying. Well, at least fifty percent of the time. It was obvious he was lying now. “What did you find?” I demanded of Olivia, my anger with him shifting like waves rolling into shore. There seemed to be no end to my fury.

“Are you sure?” Olivia asked plaintively.

“I’m sure.”

“Well, it’s a bit convoluted, but Infinity Group—you remember I brought them up?—they’re a company in name only. They’re owned by several other companies, and when you track the line of companies, they all lead to your father. He’s the one who has been taking five-hundred-grand a month off the books. It was less when he started—maybe so he could see if he could get away with it—but more in recent months.”

“But … why?” That was the part I couldn’t wrap my head around.

“I’m not sure on that part,” Olivia hedged. “I have a few theories.” She cast her gaze toward the door, to where Wren’s desk was situated on the other side. “I think your father is going to have to explain the rest of it to you.”

My eyes landed on my father. “What did you do?”

“She’s lying,” Dad insisted. He wasn’t full of nearly as much bluster as he normally would be. In fact, he was downright pale. “She’s making it up. This is all because she knows that you’re going to divorce her and marry someone higher on the food chain. This is her trying to prove she should be kept in the loop.”

My shoulders jerked. He’d actually said it. Out loud. To my wife. When I turned to tell Olivia to ignore him, I found her features devoid of color. Never in my life had I seen her looking weak, but she did now.

“Don’t believe him,” I blurted. “That’s not what we were talking about.”

“Of course it is.” My father was a master at pressing an advantage when he sensed a fissure. He’d thrown Olivia off her game, and now he was going to remove her from our lives. That was his entire goal here. “Zach and I agree the Dawber girl at the Cosmopolitan makes a better match. As much as I appreciate the calming presence you’ve had on my son’s life, I believe your time in this family is done.”

“Don’t listen to him,” I hissed, moving to stand again. My legs felt like jelly. This was too much, all at once. Just way too much.

Olivia was careful to avoid making eye contact with me. She seemed … uneasy … as she stood. Carefully, she licked her lips and then focused her full attention on my father. “I know what I found. I know what you did. I’m going to leave you two to talk about it, though.”

I scrambled to get to the door at the same time as her. “Don’t believe him,” I begged. “That’s not what was happening.”

“Of course it is,” Dad argued. “There’s no need to be shy. I said I would be the one to tell her. You don’t have to turn into a puddle of piss because you feel guilty.”

“That is not true.” There was a legitimate chance that I might pass out I was so worked up. “Do not listen to him. He’s trying to distract you.”

“Of course he is.” Olivia made an attempt at a smile, but it was weak. “You need to deal with this, though. I’m telling the truth about the books.”

“I know you are.”

“We’ll talk about the other stuff later.” She still wasn’t making eye contact. “I think you need to deal with your father first.”

I didn’t want to, though. I did not want to deal with my father. All I wanted was Olivia. She was already slipping away from me.

“Please don’t leave.” I didn’t want to beg, but I wasn’t above it. “Please, just … don’t leave me.”

“I’m here for you, Zach,” she assured me. “This has to be dealt with first. We’ll worry about the other stuff later.” She was remote as she finally found the courage to meet my gaze. “We’ll talk later.”

“Livvie—”

“Later,” she insisted, blinking back tears. It was obvious she was rocked and hurt by what my father had said. Did she believe it, though? That’s what I couldn’t ascertain. “I’ll be around.”

With that, she walked through the door. She didn’t look back.

I just had one question. Was she walking out of my life too?