4. Four
4
FOUR
THREE MONTHS LATER
S pending time with my father was my least favorite thing to do. On that particular list, he ranked above getting moles burned off, getting a wax after a winter of neglect to my nether region, and being forced to eat year old fruitcake for an eating contest. That’s how bad he was.
He seemed to take joy in irritating me. Actually, he seemed to take joy in irritating all of us.
“That’s not going to happen.” Mom was calm as she regarded my father. We were in a family meeting rather than a board meeting, but the atmosphere was hardly warm and welcoming since we were doing it at the office. Mom didn’t want Dad in her house, and I didn’t blame her.
Dad leaned back in his chair. The fact that he wasn’t at the head of the table, which would’ve been his spot for previous meetings, obviously grated. He tried to pretend it didn’t, that we were the ones being petty. Nobody was falling for it, though.
“I happen to think it’s a great idea,” Dad countered. “Building a new theater and getting regular shows will add to our bottom line.”
“But only after we take a big financial hit,” Zach countered. He sat between Olivia and Mom, playing with his ink pen. We’d told him multiple times that he couldn’t lose his temper with Dad because that’s exactly what Dad was going for, so he was embracing a calmer demeanor. Of course, under the surface, he was positively steaming. I didn’t blame him for that either. Dad was … such an ass. He was just the king of the asses.
Sadly, he enjoyed being the king.
“I still think it’s a good idea,” Dad argued. “Let’s take it to the board and see what they think.”
At the far end of the table, Tasha Birchwood sat in her chair and diligently took notes. She was our assigned representative from Lapidus Communications. That meant she was our own personal crisis management manager. She showed up for meetings and big events at the casino. She showed up for special occasions when my father was present. Honestly, she was kept very busy.
“I said no,” Mom fired back.
“Well, last time I checked, you didn’t have all the votes.” Dad’s eyes narrowed. “Not for lack of trying or anything.”
“Right, because it’s all Mom’s fault that we’re in this situation,” Zach drawled, letting his irritation get the better of him. “She’s the one who forced you to cheat on her and knock up your secretary.”
“Your mother was a cold fish in bed,” Dad fired back. “If she’d showed me even a hint of warmth, I wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere.”
“Shut your mouth,” Zach barked. It wasn’t that he wanted to take up for Mom’s warmness in bed. We were all sick of Dad talking badly about her, though. He was doing it on purpose … and the more he flapped his lips, the more he got under our skin. At this point, the best thing for all of us would’ve been for him to make himself small. Ryder Stone wasn’t about to do what was right for anybody else, though. That’s simply not who he was.
No, he was the king.
“Did Mom make you embezzle money to take care of your pregnant mistress?” Pearl asked blandly.
Dad glared at her. “There’s no proof I embezzled anything. Your mother made that up because she was jealous.”
“Don’t,” Zach warned, his face turning a mottled shade of red as his rage increased. “Just … don’t. You know exactly what you did. You know what you tried to do at the end. You need to stop.”
“Oh, listen to you.” Dad rolled his eyes to the ceiling, giving off the appearance of being bored. “When did you turn into such a snowflake?” His eyes darted to Olivia. “Actually, don’t bother answering that. I already know when you turned into a snowflake.”
“Don’t look at her,” Zach growled. “Just … don’t even look at her.”
Just to be an ass, his perpetual state even before he was ousted from power, Dad stared at Olivia a beat longer. Then he turned his attention to me. “You’re the smartest of all my offspring.” He said it as if I should be grateful he was finally acknowledging me. “Don’t you think a theater would be beneficial to the casino? I mean … you are essentially in charge of everything entertainment related on the property.”
I forced myself to keep from clawing his eyes out. He was searching for a reaction—any negative reaction would do—because he wanted to earn points in front of the crisis manager.
“I can see where you might think that,” I replied blandly. “Everybody wants a residency to tout in their advertising. Our problem is that the construction would take a year and then it would take another year to book in the talent we want. I don’t think we’re in a place to wait two years to recoup the money we would be spending. I mean … we’re still recouping the losses from your embezzlement.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t stop saying that, I’ll sue you.”
I snorted. “With what money? You don’t have access to Mom’s money any longer. Word on the street is that your mistress is sucking you dry. She’s due any day now, right? I certainly hope you plan to have a paternity test once she pops out that baby.”
“Claire and I are quite happy,” Dad replied primly. It was a lie. Anybody who had ever met the man could pick up on his tells. He liked to gamble but was terrible at it.
“If you say so.” I turned to Zach. “I don’t think now is the time to take something like that on. If we want to put together a five-year plan, then maybe I can see bringing it up again down the road. For now, we’re making a nice profit and we don’t have a lot of outlay in the entertainment department. We have good relationships with the other casinos so we can get tickets for our whales on short notice. I think we should stick to what’s working right now.”
Zach nodded in agreement. “Thank you. I was thinking the same thing.”
“You never did have any imagination,” Dad complained, drawing my gaze back to him. “I thought maybe you had a spark when you were a little girl. Turns out, I was wrong. Actually, I’ve been wrong a lot in my life.” His attention moved back to my mother. “So very, very wrong.”
My irritation got the better of me and I stood. “Why can’t you just be a decent human being and go away?”
“What fun would that be?”
“You’re just … terrible. Like, you’re the worst human being in the world. Why can’t you just leave us alone?” Suddenly I was hot. Like…really, really hot. I was too young for menopause—or at least I hoped that was true—but I’d heard about hot flashes. Apparently, I was having one now. “Geez.” I waved my hand in front of my face.
“Are you coming down with a case of the vapors?” Dad challenged. “You were always such a drama queen. Why do you think that is? I told your mother we should’ve gotten rid of you. We knew a few months in that you were another girl.” He shot Mom an annoyed look. “It took her forever to get it right and give me the son I needed. Of course, if I had to do it all over again, I would’ve asked for a different son.”
It wasn’t until I opened my mouth that I realized it was a mistake. I was still hot—we’re talking Satan’s ball sweat here—but my stomach had decided to join the party at the sauna and lodge a formal complaint. The breakfast I’d scarfed down before the meeting—an egg white omelet with spinach and mushrooms—-came back up with no warning…and landed all over my father.
For a moment, I was frozen in place, stuck between embarrassment and amusement.
Dad’s eyes were as wide as saucers, and I thought he might pass out. Instead, he looked down at his suit—he no longer got three new suits a month and had to make do with his current wardrobe—and then back up at me. “What the hell?” he practically screeched.
I blinked. Then I blinked again. The polite thing would’ve been to apologize. That didn’t happen, though, because when I tried, I threw up again.
“Ruby!” Zach was the first one to me. He ignored the puke on Dad—nobody was going to help him with that—and nudged me toward a chair. His hand moved to my forehead, concern lining his features, and he wrinkled his nose when his hand came back sweaty. “Are you sick?”
That was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. “I just puked all over Dad, Zach. I think I’m sick.”
“Sorry.” He took a step away from me. “You look like death.”
“Thanks, Zach. You know exactly how to make a girl feel good after she pukes all over her father.”
“I think I’m going to throw up,” Dad said out of nowhere. Nobody paid him any attention.
“Come on.” Olivia slid around Zach and put her arm around my waist. “Let’s get you to the bathroom.”
I didn’t argue with her. I felt like a rag doll at this point, and all I wanted to do was … well … be elsewhere. Smelling my own puke on Dad made me want to do it again. If it happened a third time, he would lose his mind.
“You guys keep … doing what you’re doing,” Olivia said as she glanced around the room. Her nostrils flared when her gaze fell on Dad. “You might want to take a washcloth to yourself or something.”
“Thank you, Olivia,” Dad drawled. “I never would’ve figured that out myself.”
Olivia merely shrugged. “You’re welcome.”
We probably looked like drunks as we staggered out of the boardroom. The office assistant Beth Kingsley hopped up when she saw us.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Are you … dying?”
“I must look pretty good for her to jump to that assumption,” I said to Olivia. Oddly, I was suddenly feeling better. “Can you get a thirty-minute bout of food poisoning?”
“Not last time I checked,” Olivia replied dryly. “Why? Is that what you think this is? Where did you eat?”
“Calypsos.”
Olivia frowned, fear tightening at the corners of her eyes. “I had a bagel from there this morning.”
“Yes, it’s all about you,” I agreed.
“Sorry.” She had the grace to look abashed. “I didn’t mean to make it all about me. I just … well, I don’t want to puke on your brother. I know he would still love me and all, but what a mood killer.”
“Yes, I can vouch for that.”
Once in the bathroom, I splashed water on my face. I didn’t care that it melted my makeup. I’d sweated through half of that anyway. The cool water felt blissful. Olivia helped me check my suit for spots of vomit. I was surprisingly clear.
“I guess I have good aim,” I mused as I patted the front of my shirt. “Although, I’m betting Dad doesn’t agree with that.”
Olivia smirked. “I know it’s wrong—I really am upset that you’re sick—but your timing and aim were impeccable.”
I laughed, then frowned, my hand immediately going to my stomach.
“Do you still feel sick?” She took a step away from me. “Maybe it’s a flu bug or something.”
“It doesn’t feel like a flu bug. I mean … I don’t have a fever. At least I don’t think I do.”
“You were sweating like a madwoman.”
“Yes, I was hot. It wasn’t fever hot, though.”
Timidly, Olivia reached out and pressed her hand to my forehead. “You don’t feel warm,” she acknowledged after a few seconds. “A little clammy maybe. You’re not burning up, though.” She looked me over. “Do you think it’s food poisoning?”
“Doesn’t it take more than twenty minutes for food poisoning to hit you?”
“I would think so.” She nodded. “How were you feeling when you woke up this morning?”
“Fine. I felt … fine.” That was true. I’d actually felt energized when I woke up this morning, which wasn’t my way. I was the sort of person who had to ease into a morning. “I had a lot of energy. I didn’t even need to drink a pot of coffee to get it.”
“What’s your secret?” she teased, her lips curving.
I shrugged and glanced at my reflection. “I’ve looked better.”
She waved off my comment. “Don’t worry about that. You’re always pretty.”
“Oh, thank you.” I beamed at her.
She laughed. “Now you’re supposed to say that I’m always pretty too.”
“Oh, I don’t go in for reciprocal comments.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She shook her head. “If it’s not food poisoning, what is it?”
“I have no idea. Maybe I’ve grown violently allergic to my father.” I brightened at the possibility. “That could actually work in my favor.”
She shook her head. “As much as we would all like to come down with that affliction, I don’t think that’s a real thing.”
“Right.” I blew out a sigh. “Maybe it’s just one of those little medical mysteries that will never be solved. I already feel better.”
“That’s good.” Olivia looked me over. “Although … is it possible you’re pregnant?”
On the face of it, the question made me laugh. “I’m on the shot.”
“Okay, but no birth control is a hundred percent effective. Well, except for abstinence. Have you been practicing that?”
“Yes.” That was mostly true. I’d been keeping to myself for months at this point. Well, except for that one night. That one night with Olivia’s brother. A night where we hadn’t been careful.
Still, I was on the shot. It was fine. There was no way I was pregnant. “I think it’s just a mild bout of food poisoning,” I assured her. “I bet I’m fine tomorrow.”
“Well, you should lie down for today. You know, just to make sure.”
I nodded, even though I had zero intention of lying down. “I think that sounds like a fabulous idea.”
I WENT TO A PHARMACY OFF THE casino grounds. There was a CVS in front of Horseshoe. It saw heavy foot traffic, so I didn’t have to worry about anybody paying close attention to me. Once inside, I headed straight for the feminine hygiene aisle and grabbed the first pregnancy test I saw. Then, because I was determined to make sure there were no errors, I grabbed three more.
The clerk at the checkout barely raised an eyebrow when I dropped my haul on the counter. Even when I added a container of Tic-Tacs to the pile she didn’t flinch. “That will be eighty-five seventy-two,” she drawled when she was done ringing them up.
“For four pregnancy tests and a thing of Tic-Tacs?” I was incensed. “That’s highway robbery.”
The clerk shrugged. “You can put them back on the shelf if you don’t want them.”
I grumbled under my breath and swiped my debit card. I made her double bag the tests so nobody could read the labels through the flimsy bag, and then hurried back to the casino.
Rex was by the door when I strode through it. Despite my worries that we wouldn’t be able to get back to our easygoing friendship, I’d been wrong. Right on schedule, a week after we’d made our stupid mistake, we were back to joshing with one another on a friendly basis. There was nothing weird about it.
“Hey.” He lit up when he saw me. “I heard you puked all over your father today. That was a nice move.” He reached out to fist bump me, but I avoided it.
“You probably don’t want to touch me,” I explained when his eyebrows knit over my actions. “I might have the flu.”
“Did you go to the pharmacy for medicine?” He pointed toward my bag.
Internally, I thanked my lucky stars that I’d been cognizant enough to suggest the double bagging. “Yes,” I lied. “I got some stuff to help my stomach. I’m going to head up to my suite and rest. Hopefully, after a few hours of downtime, I’ll be bright eyed and bushy tailed.”
“I’ve never really understood that saying. Does one want to be bushy tailed?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea.” I gave him a half wave and started for the elevators. “I’ll see you.”
“Do you want me to have one of the restaurants send anything up?” He looked legitimately concerned. “Like … how about some soup and bread? That should be bland enough for you to keep down.”
“I don’t want to risk trying to keep anything down right now,” I replied. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
I was quiet for the ride up to my floor, although I nodded at a few familiar faces. Once in the safety of my suite, I read the directions on the pregnancy test and then headed into the bathroom to take the first one.
I was just looking for peace of mind, I reminded myself. There was no way I was actually pregnant. I’d gotten four different types of tests, but I figured if the first one proved what I already knew, I would take the others to the front desk where they would be handy should a guest need them. There was just one little problem.
I’d selected Clearblue on a whim. According to the instructions, when the line showed up, it meant I was pregnant.
“Well, that’s not right.” I shook my head.
Next up was First Response. It was also positive.
It wasn’t until the Equate test came up positive too that I started to panic. What were the odds that I would go three-for-three on false positives? They couldn’t be good.
I took the house brand CVS test last. When it too was positive, I thought I might be sick again. Since my father wasn’t around to puke on, I managed to hold it together. Just barely. Then I placed a call to my primary care physician. I didn’t care that they were booked. I bulldozed my way to an appointment.
I was going to find out one way or another what was going on. Part of me knew of course. I wasn’t a delusional idiot. I just needed to hear it from a professional. Then I would decide how best to panic and freak out. I needed all the facts before I could do it properly. That’s simply who I was.