She raises her eyes to mine. I see the concern in them, but I don’t see pain. She just looks tired, as she so often does. “I’ll be fine. Are you going after her?”
“Yeah. How did you know she was gone?”
She shrugs. “Besides hearing her drive off, I just had a feeling that she would leave.”
I frown at that. “Well, I’m gonna bring her back and figure this out. I just have a feeling it’s something I’ll have to do there. I don’t expect her to answer her phone. Not after the way she left.”
“No, I wouldn’t expect so.”
“The food service people will still be cooking for you. And cleaning up. Whatever you need. I know I told you they were contracted through our honeymoon, but I didn’t give them an end date for their services. And I won’t. So use them, okay? Don’t be stubborn and try to do everything for yourself.”
“I’m not—”
“Mom,” I interrupt, giving her a withering look. “Don’t even try it. We both know you’re stubborn, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving if you’re not going to use them. It’s either use them or I’ll be forced to stay and you’ll ruin my chances with Weatherly. So which will it be?”
Her smile is small and sad. “A ruthless negotiator, just like your father.”
We both know that’s not the best of compliments, considering that my real father was a sharklike businessman.
“Hey, if it gets me what I want . . .” I say with my own shrug.
“That’s just what he would say.”
Normally, I’d take exception to that, but I don’t have time to debate the despicable traits that I inherited from my father. I’ve got a wife to find and bring home.
“Promise me, Mom.”
Her sigh is weak but audible. “Fine. I promise. But you have to promise me something.”
“Like what?”
“Promise me that you’ll tell her the truth. All of it. Promise me that you’ll do your best to let her in. She’s good for you. I can see it. And she could mean the difference between you turning out like your biological father and you living a good, happy life that would make any mother proud.”
“So you’re saying I’m destined to be an awful person if I can’t get her back?”
“No, I’m just saying that a life without love leaves room to love the wrong things. Money, power, influence. Those kinds of love can destroy you.”
“You know I’m only interested in one thing, Mom.”
“But don’t let your determination to have your way cloud your view of right and wrong.”
“Are you saying that it already has? Is that what this is about?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Although her expression is grieved, she doesn’t try to argue with me. That alone is answer enough.
“I’ll have my phone with me at all times. Call if you need anything, okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“And remember your promise,” I tell her as I back out the door.
“Remember yours.”
As if I could forget.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Weatherly
I’ve been home less than two hours when a knock sounds at my door. There’s only one person it could be and I really don’t feel like dealing with him. But if I don’t do it now, he won’t let me rest until I do. One can only avoid William O’Neal for so long.
I swing open the door to my father’s angry red face. “I’ll sue that son of a bitch! If he thinks he can get away with this, he has no idea who in God’s great kingdom I am,” he says as he storms past me.
With a sigh, I close the door behind him, bracing myself for a furious tirade. “You can’t sue him for being a liar, Dad. It’s not illegal. If it were, half the people you do business with would be in jail.”
I don’t add that he, too, would likely be imprisoned.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do! I employ some of the most vicious lawyers on the eastern seaboard. I can do anything I damn well please.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. This is typical O’Neal temper rearing its ugly head. Reason and rationale go right out the window when he gets like this. He just wants someone’s blood and he wants it now.
I swallow my sigh, but I can’t keep the sadness from my voice. Not completely. “Maybe Donald will have some suggestions. Have you talked to him since I called? Did you give him this new information?”
“Yes. He’s looking into things from his end, but I’ve also reached out to a contact I have on the Randolph Consolidated board of directors. If this little asshole wants to play hardball, he can see firsthand how the big boys play.”