“Successor?” Geoffrey looks perplexed. “Look, I don’t know what you’re smoking these days–goodness knows I tried to find out when you arrived. But you are totally off your rocker with this one.”
“Was that the same time you looked for shit on Claire? Enough, Geoffrey. Just let us be. I don’t know why you’re so intrigued by my personal affairs, but it’s pretty fucked-up to pull Claire into this, too.”
Mum walks back in, and Claire and Fiona shoot us furtive looks. “We’re going to the den now,” Fiona says. “Will you boys be joining us?”
I add another inch of Scotch to my glass and follow Geoffrey out of the dining room.
We file into the den and find Dad sitting at his large oak desk, glasses on. To my surprise, papers are everywhere. Dad has always been fairly organized, and I suppose I thought things might be tidy and in order before he passed the business on.
“So, everyone is here, and the dreaded conversation can be had at last,” Dad says. “Sit, sit,” he directs. We find seats in the leather chairs of his massive study, and I pull Claire’s hand into mine.
“Why did you tell Landon you were choosing a successor?” Geoffrey starts before Dad can say anything. “Why do you insist on creating more drama?”
“Don’t talk to Dad like that,” I say, surprised by my brother’s tone.
“Oh, God, Landon, you have no bloody clue.” Geoffrey leans back, eyes closed.
“I wanted both my sons here, is that so terrible? And that was the only way I could tempt Landon. It worked, didn’t it?” Dad asks Geoffrey. “I wanted him to be here, considering....”
“Considering what?” I ask. Claire’s hand tightens around mine; she’s begging me to keep my cool. “You are being such a prick, Geoffrey.”
“No, he isn’t,” Dad says. “Not entirely.”
Claire’s eyes meet mine, and we’re both obviously confused. Fiona is looking at her hands and Mum is, too, not wanting to look anyone in the eyes.
Shit, everyone knows something Claire and I don’t.
“What is it, then?” I ask, my voice rising. “You two,” I say, pointing to Dad and Geoffrey, “are bickering incessantly about the business. Dad, you’ve brought me here under apparent false pretenses. Mum just wants everyone happy, and somehow Fiona finally got an engagement ring, after asking for five bloody years.”
“Just stop fighting,” Mum cries.
I shake my head, furious. “It would be easy to stop if Geoffrey didn’t do things like hire an investigator to look into my business the moment I arrived.”
“Well, I wouldn’t do it if I trusted you. God, Landon, for ten years you’ve been a flake, and we can’t have that sort of drama around when the shit hits the fan. I needed to be sure there wasn’t something bigger brewing with you. The press is going to be all over us as soon as the truth of the situation is revealed. The last thing we need is some lewd story of you in the center of it.”
“What shit?” I ask, incredulous at the code he is speaking in. “What fan? What bloody situation?”
The room goes quiet, and a silent conversation takes place between Mum and Dad and Geoffrey and Fiona.
Finally, Dad speaks.
“I know Geoffrey and I fight ... but the truth is, Geoffrey has been our saving grace the past two years. And things have been tricky.”
“Tricky?” Geoffrey guffaws. “Is that what it’s called? Dad, you live in a fantasy land. You and Mum are going to be sorely disappointed, when you’ve traded everything we have right now for a flat in a dodgy part of town. You’ll wish you’d gone with my plan, when everything else is gone.”
“Gone?” Claire asks. “What will be gone?”
Fiona looks up at her, her face sour and clearly upset. “Geoffrey is trying to keep The King’s Diamond from going bankrupt.”
“Bankrupt?” My voice betrays my absolute shock. “The company is going bankrupt?”
“It already is,” Dad says.
Chapter Twenty-One
Claire
I’m not money hungry. I mean, yes I’m here at the castle because of the potential paycheck … but my entire life doesn’t typically revolve around cash flow.
But for this family, money defines them.
I could earn a lot more money if I worked different hours of the day, but being home with Sophia has always meant more than a bigger paycheck.
Except for when Landon offered me this proposition. Because getting paid two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to be his fake fiancée was a chance at a jackpot. It would be like winning the lottery. It would change everything. So, yes … in this singular instance money means more than being home.