As he climbed into bed that night, he tossed and turned, sleeping little. He should have been in ecstasy in his luxuriously oversized bed. But no, he was restless and out of sorts, feeling alone there for the first time ever.
By the time he got up the next morning, Tanner was even moodier than he'd been the night before. He'd wanted nothing more than to get back to this place for almost a whole month, but he had to get away right now. He was suffocating inside these depressingly immaculate walls. After shutting the door behind him as the sun rose in the sky, he drove to his father's office building.
At one point his dad had hoped his sons would take over the family business, and then, when none of them had stepped up to the plate, he'd sold that business and moved here, giving them each this test to turn a failing company around.
Crew had succeeded. He was doing great.
The rest of them were still struggling, fighting their father, not wanting to let the old man control them. Tanner had his own money, of course, and didn't even need to go all the way with this challenge, but he also knew that once he began something, he couldn't quit halfway through. He had to get through this task if it took everything in him. But he didn't exactly know how he'd manage that, or what the end of this game would look like, and who would be the ultimate winner.
Tanner parked in front of his father's building, then stepped inside and nodded at the guard on duty - the only other person there - before going to the elevator and riding it to the top floor. He then went into the office his father had set up temporarily for him, and he walked around. His father had given each of his kids an office in the building, hoping they'd see the light. He wanted his children to feel passion, to outgrow the selfishness they'd all embraced for a time.
Tanner felt only hollowness, as if all he had within him was a stuffing of straw. But he'd handle this. He sat down at his desk, bound and determined that this would be just a phase, a phase that would soon pass. And it would. He had a strong will, and he wouldn't be held down for long.
He thrived on work, thrived on being feared and respected for all he'd amassed. He loved glamour and power. It was all a part of who he was, and he in no way wanted to change. Three or four weeks taken from his life wouldn't make him change who he was forever. If he felt a little lonely, he could go and get a stupid cat. They weren't nearly as needy as dogs or humans.
But he wasn't an utter misanthrope. And he wasn't without some sense of family values, dammit. He would play his father's games because he did care about his family, but he certainly wasn't playing the games of some dimwitted judge. Opening his laptop, he dove into work, ignoring the fact that the rest of the building was empty, the employees spending time with their families. Holidays were no excuse for laziness. Hadn't that always been his motto?
He didn't even know anymore what he felt or what he wanted. But he would erase that thought, and he would return to normal. It might take a few more days of adjusting, but that was all. Assured he would be fine, he pushed all thoughts other than work from his mind and soon he even managed to convince himself he was perfectly okay.
He'd always been successful. Lying to himself the way he just had was proof of that.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
What do you want, Dad?"
"Now, Tanner … "
"I'm busy now, Father. Why'd you call?"
"It's the week after Christmas," Richard told him. "And the whole family missed you at the family dinner your uncle Joseph was kind enough to include all of us in."
Tanner thought over the Christmas Eve dinner that he had enjoyed - immensely - and his eyes grew soft for the briefest of moments until he snapped himself out of it. That time was over, as well as it should be.
"I'd just been freed from my sentence, Dad. Did you really think I'd be in the mood to leap into the holiday spirit, to drink wassail and sing carols over a blazing fire with family love in my tender heart? That just proves how little you know about me. Anyway, I got enough Christmas spirit to choke a horse during my miserably long stint as a mall Santa."
"You didn't enjoy meeting those cute little ones?"
Tanner snorted, and then he absolutely growled. "Don't get me freaking started … " Children! If he never saw another one of those ankle biters again, it would be too bloody soon. Throwing up. Snot. Greed … pain … No! That last thing didn't matter. A stranger's child had no business sitting on his lap and burdening him with so much sadness. He wanted to be angry with Billy, with the world. Anger was better than vulnerability.
"Would a grown woman sound better?"
"Oh, no, Dad. Surely you're not trying to set me up with someone. The last time you got me to go out on a blind date - the only time - was the mother of all disasters."