Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
I grimace and answer the call. “Father.”
“We should meet.”
“After I draw up your retirement papers. I’ll let you know when they’re ready.”
“Or you’ll ruin me,” he states.
“Yes. With a smile on my face.”
“I made you, boy.”
“I couldn’t be more aware of that fact right now. I’ll be in touch.” I disconnect and call Gabe.
“We need to talk. I’m on my way there.”
“I had a feeling that was coming,” he replies.
“I’m running. I’ll be there in under an hour.”
“Running. That tells me you and Carrie didn’t make up.”
“Not even close.”
“Man, Reid. That sucks. What are you going to do?”
“Make him pay.” I disconnect and head to my closet. A few minutes later, I’ve brushed my teeth, and I’m now dressed in running shoes, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. I walk to the front door, snatch my keys from the entryway table, and stare at Carrie’s bags on the floor right beside mine where I left them last night. I open the fucking door and exit. I need out of here.
A few minutes later, I’m running, music blaring in my headphones in an effort to block out everything but the run, but it doesn’t work. I’m replaying that kitchen scene with my father. He’s such a little bitch. In the moment, standing in that kitchen, all I could think of was to contain his attention on Carrie and get her out of there. A strategy I blew when I went after her, which means it was all for nothing. I could have just wrapped her in my arms, ushered her out of there and forced my father out. I need to tell her that. I stop running and pull my phone from my pocket, but shove it back inside. I need to tell her in person and if that means waiting until tomorrow, I’ll wait.
I start running again and this time I don’t stop until I reach the high-rise where my brother lives, several miles away. I pass security without a need to sign in; I’m on his list and security knows me well. I’m at his door just as quickly. Knowing Gabe will leave the door open for me, I enter and head through the living room, a room framed with brick on two walls and a floor-to-ceiling window spanning another. Everything in his place is brown and tan, the décor masculine, the statement screaming: Bachelor forever. I get it. I felt the same way.
Until Carrie.
I walk up a set of stairs that leads to the upper-level kitchen to find my sister standing at the wood-finished island with Gabe, both in sweats and T-shirts like me. “Let me guess,” I say, leaning on the door jam. “You’re here to tell Gabe your big news. Are you—”
“If I had a secret,” Cat says. “I wouldn’t tell you two. At least not right now.”
“So she’s pregnant, but not announcing it yet,” Gabe says, leaning on the island. “An assessment I make by the fact that she won’t say she’s not.”
“Good grief. I’m not on the stand in a courtroom.” She folds her arms in front of her. “What happened with Carrie?”
“You saw what happened. She fucking hates me now.”
“You made her feel like you were using her, Reid.”
“I know, fuck, I know, Cat. In my mind, at the time, it felt like the best way to get her out of there and try to get her off his radar.”
“I know,” she says. “You told me that, but if it were me, if I were Carrie, I’d be hurting right now.”
“Sounds like a six-dozen roses apology is needed,” Gabe says.
“No,” I say. “She thinks I took over her company to hurt her and her father. She thinks I’m using her for some endgame. Roses will feel fake.”
“Agreed,” Cat says. “They might actually make it worse. What are you going to do?”
“I told dad I’m forcing his retirement.” I look at Gabe. “Has he called you?”
“No, and Cat told me what you said to him, but how the fuck are you going to force him out?”
“I know something he did that he doesn’t want anyone else to know.”
“Then why the fuck haven’t we gotten him out before now?” Gabe says. “Let’s do it.”
“You’re really going to do it?” Cat asks.
“Yes. I’ve wanted him out since I read that letter from mom.”
“You have?”
“Yes, Cat. I have. I didn’t know who he was. I’m not him. I’m really not him after meeting Carrie.”
“Do you want me to talk to her?” she asks.
“No,” I say. “Not yet. Maybe, but I don’t want you being connected to this. I want her to know you as you. She needs to know we aren’t like him. I know she saw the real you yesterday, at least.”
“He needs to know we’re united,” Gabe says, drawing our attention back to our father. “The three of us. That’s not something he’s used to. It’ll let him know our role in his bullshit is over.” His cellphone rings, and when he answers his lips curve. “Send him up.” He disconnects. “He’s here. How well-timed.”