Dirty Little Secret(55)
“An idiotic man! You can’t even see what’s right in front of your nose.”
“And what’s that?”
The sneaky smile he’d learned to be wary of appeared out of nowhere. “You haven’t told her, have you?”
“Told her what?”
“That you love her. You haven’t said it.”
Not to her.
“Jeez, Alex. The woman’s been through the wringer, and you’re holding out on her?” She propped her chin on her hand. “Trust me, I know women—”
He couldn’t hold back a snort that said more clearly than words, much better than I do.
Sara Beth rolled her eyes and went right on with her sentence. “And I can tell you for a fact that your woman is head over heels. She’d follow you to hell and back.”
“She already has,” he said.
“So what are you holding out for?”
He swallowed hard, but it wasn’t a gulp. He wouldn’t admit to gulping. “I was waiting to be free.” He stared at Sara Beth, willing her to understand.
She shook her head at him, then settled back down on the bed. “Idiot,” she said.
He grinned.
* * * *
They chose the time for their confrontation with John carefully. The consortium had been a tremendous success. The news of Keane Industries’—meaning Ian’s team’s—breakthrough in AR research had exploded across the industry like fireworks on the Fourth of July. John was riding high on a triumph he hadn’t earned, and it was time to pay the piper.
The man rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he walked into Alex’s home office. “What did you need to talk about, Sara Elizabeth? This wouldn’t happen to be the announcement I’ve been looking forward to for the last seven months, would it?”
Sara Beth’s skin turned a little green, and Alex didn’t blame her. The thought of allowing John access to a child after all they’d learned about him was sickening to him too. But John wasn’t his father, and he couldn’t imagine how hard this was for Sara Beth.
“No, Dad, I’m not pregnant.”
John’s scowl made his disappointment clear. “Then what?”
“Take a seat, John,” Alex said. While Sara Beth sat on the couch opposite the one John deigned to occupy, Alex crossed to his desk and retrieved the folder he’d assembled from Corrine’s information, as well as the follow-up he’d done through a team of private detectives. He took his time, girding his mental loins. When he finally took the seat next to Sara Beth, John was relaxed back into the couch, arms splayed as if he owned the place.
Looking at the man who had ruled such a large part of his life, Alex was surprised by the emptiness in his chest. He’d expected to feel something, anything, at this moment—anger, triumph, possibly even remnants of the fear that used to swamp him when he was a teen facing John’s determination—but instead as he stared across the low table at the man who had run his life for so many years, only a weary resignation settled on his shoulders.
He got straight to the point.
“Sara Beth and I are getting a divorce.”
The silence was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Then, “Like hell you will!”
“Yes, we will. You know Sara Beth is not happy, and neither am I.”
John’s derisive “So?” scraped along Alex’s already tenuous nerves. Sara Beth’s startled gasp telegraphed her hurt clearly.
“John—”
“Who gives a damn if she’s happy, Alex? Really.” John’s disgust was evident as his gaze swept over his daughter. “I didn’t marry her off to you to make her happy; I did it to secure the future of this company. This family.”
“No, you did it to secure your power,” Alex said. “Unfortunately for you, you picked a man who could care less about your power but cares everything about her happiness.”
Into the uneasy silence that followed, Sara Beth spoke. “That’s all I ever was to you, wasn’t I? A means to an end.” She choked on the last word, and pain speared Alex’s chest. “You are my father. You’re supposed to love me, not use me.”
John didn’t respond. They sat, the truth a suffocating presence between then, until finally John stood, giving them his back to pace across the room. When he turned, his gaze sought out Alex, not Sara Beth. Ignoring his daughter, he narrowed his eyes in speculation. “This is about that secretary, isn’t it?”
Shit.
“You’re going to throw it all away over a woman, a whore.” John began a slow stalk back toward the couch. “Let me tell you something about women, Alex. They’re faithless. The whole lot. Can’t trust them as far as the next bed to hop into, and only then if you can tie ’em to it.” He spread his hands along the back of the sofa and leaned in, emphasizing his point. “They’re only good for one thing…or two things, actually.” The gleam of humor in his eyes made Alex want to punch him.