My father's brow furrows. "What? You and Gaige?" he asks. "Don't be ridiculous."
"But – it's not because of us."
He waves his hand dismissively. "She left last night," he says. "I didn't even read Gaige's email until this morning."
"But…what happened?"
Beau looks at me, his head cocked to the side. "It was obvious, wasn't it? It's been coming for a long time. She was an alcoholic, and…well, not a very good person at all, as it turns out. She'd been cheating on me. With the yoga instructor. Who's twenty-three."
My hand flies to my mouth. "Dad. I'm so sorry."
Beau smiles sadly. "I sure can pick 'em, can't I?"
"Dad, I – I don't know what to say."
He clears his throat and shakes his head, standing up to set his empty glass down at the bar, before walking over to me and drawing me into a hug. I stand here, my head against his chest for a moment, feeling like a kid again. Then, his big hands on my arms, he pushes me back and takes a long look at me. "My problems are not your problems," he says. "Your mother called here, by the way."
I exhale forcefully. "I know," I say. "I got her phone call."
"I tried to make her see reason," he says. "But you know how she is. I can only imagine what that call was like for you."
"I don't know if we're speaking anymore," I say. "Dad, I ruined everything. How can you not be angry?"
He waves his hand. "Akira Ito can pull out of the deal if he wants to," he says, shrugging. "There's a morality clause Gaige very well could have broken all on his own anyway. There will be other sponsors."
"You're not mad about the deal," I say.
My father walks over to his bar and takes out a cigar. He clips the end of it slowly, looks at me like he's about to impart the most profound wisdom ever. But he just shrugs. "You win some, you lose some."
"That's it?" I ask. "It's millions of dollars."
"Honey, there will always be more money to make. It's replaceable. Besides," he says, with a sly smile, "I had an insurance policy on Akira-san. And your boss Chelsea won't find she has the employment opportunities she thinks she has."
"What?" They sell insurance for this kind of thing? My father is having Chelsea black-balled?
"Not literal insurance," he says. "I had a back-up sponsor, someone waiting in the wings. Just in case. It's Gaige we're talking about here."
"But Gaige and I –" I start. "It's all over the news, the tabloids, supposedly. You're not upset?"
"I'm going to smoke this," he says, holding up his cigar and pointedly ignoring my question. "Come out onto the terrace with me."
I follow him outside and stand with him on the terrace that overlooks the grounds, while he lights his cigar, slowly and methodically, like some kind of ritual. He takes his time with it, and I wonder if he's even going to answer me. Finally he turns. "I've not been so lucky in the love department, you know."
"Dad, I – " I start, but he puts up his hand.
"Hush," he says. "I'm not asking you to reassure your father, or some such nonsense. I'm just stating the facts. My point is that I'm in no position to judge anyone else's relationship."
"We're not in a…" Relationship, I start to say. "Wait. So you don't care?"
Beau puffs on the cigar and then looks at me. "Let's not go that far," he says. "You're my only daughter. I'm not going to shoot off Gaige's kneecaps when he walks in the door, if that's what you're asking. Even though I could."
Relief washes over me, and I can barely suppress my giggle. Okay, that might have been exactly what I was thinking. "I'm glad you're not going to murder him," I say.
"Are you happy?" he asks.
"I think so," I say, nodding. "Yeah. I'm happy. Or, I was happy. I don't even know if we're anything, or – I mean, Gaige is Gaige. I'm not sure he even feels the same about me, or –"
"The printout of the email is on the desk," Beau says. "I'm going to finish my cigar. Take it with you, and then you can decide."
"Are you sure everything's –"
"Go," he says. "It's on the desk. Read it. I didn't peg Gaige for being so goddamned sappy, but if that's what you like…"
Sappy? I think. Gaige is anything but sappy. "Thank you, dad."
"And Delaney?" He calls my name, his back facing me as he blows smoke out away from the terrace.
"Yeah, dad?"
"I'm still your goddamned father," he says. "You should make sure to let him know that if he breaks your heart, I've got multiple shotguns and access to a great defense attorney."