Chapter 21 Surprise! Again!
SURPRISE! AGAIN!
REN
I wasn’t going to go anywhere, but I was so infuriated I figured it would be best if I put some distance between us. Not because I’m worried I’ll do or say something I will regret. More like I’m worried Cassidy will do or say something else that she will regret.
And being in a mood meant it would be a good time to deal with the other thorn in my side who had been blowing up my phone since I made my big statement in the locker room.
Conrad Logan.
Knowing he’ll still be in his office, I head directly there. I’m somewhat surprised he didn’t show up at practice and demand to see me, but I suppose that was more strategic on his part, not wanting his team to know I married his daughter without his permission. Or knowledge even.
Just as anticipated, he’s behind his large oak desk when I arrive.
He doesn’t look up at first, taking his sweet ass time finishing whatever email or report he was working on.
After a few long, drawn-out minutes, he makes a couple of last thwacks on his keyboard and then sits back in his chair abruptly.
He eyes me, lips pressed together, hands steepled in front of him as if he’s trying to come with some big statement that is going to intimidate me.
Finally, he says, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
I blink at him, quirk a brow. “Where’d you hear that from?”
Conrad matches my expression then sighs and shakes his head. “Now is not the time to fuck with me, Ren.”
I think it over for a moment, consider continuing to fuck with him because it is kind of fun. But then I take a good look at him, note the dark circles under his eyes, the dull look in his eyes. The man is obviously exhausted. “Shall I sit?”
Conrad extends a hand toward the chair across from his desk. “By all means, please do.”
I seat myself in the chair across from him, fidgeting around as I attempt to get comfortable and fail. This entire situation is uncomfortable, and no amount of fancy chairs and general small talk is going to make it less uncomfortable.
But this man is watching me without even a speck of hostility in his eyes. No tension in his shoulders, no worried lines on his face.
I don’t trust it. Not for one minute, so I ask, “You’re not going to accuse me of taking advantage of your daughter?”
He laughs, genuine humor shining in his eyes. “Have you even met Cassidy?”
“But still,” I respond with a nod, understanding where he’s going with the question. “You have every right to be pissed at me.”
“I learned a long time ago not to go around being angry before hearing the full story,” he explains, his words calm, his demeanor completely relaxed. “And if nothing else, I know you, and I know my daughter. So at least it will be a good story.”
Frowning, I give him a good once over, trying to figure out what his game is here. Because everyone knows the first rule of playing on Conrad Logan’s team is to stay away from Cassidy Logan.
I expel a frustrated sigh, my hands running though my hair as I mutter, “It’s your own fault, anyway.”
“My fault?” he asks with a raised brow. “How do you figure?”
The laugh that falls from me is hollow. “If you hadn’t put that archaic stipulation on her inheritance, none of this would’ve happened.”
“Stipulation?”
Now I full-on glare at him. “For fuck’s sake, Conrad. You could at least have the decency to own up to your own misogynistic patriarchal nonsense.”
The look on his face is pure confusion.
“Ren,” he responds, hands palm up in front of him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I stare at him, understanding slowly sinking in.
That little—no. There’s no way.
“Are you saying,” I whisper, my stomach like lead in my gut. “That you do not have a stipulation on Cassidy’s inheritance that if she doesn’t provide an heir by a certain age, she will forfeit her trust fund?”
Conrad’s brows raise until they’re practically in his hairline, his eyes wide as he takes in my question. He blinks a few times, his head cocking to the side, then, frowning, he says, “An heir?”
I nod. “Yes, a goddamn heir.”
He presses his lips together. Clears his throat. “Are you being serious right now?”
Narrowing my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest. “Serious as a fucking missed goal during overtime in the playoffs.”
I have no idea what I expected when I walked in here, but this conversation absolutely is not it.
He remains quiet for a few moments, watches me closely.
Then his lips twitch, and he laugh escapes.
He does his best to hold it back, but quickly gives up, and a deep chuckle reverberates through the room.
I glare at him. “I cannot believe you’re fucking laughing right now.”
“Oh, come on, Ren,” he responds with a residual laugh. “Surely, you can see the humor in what you’re saying.”
“Humor?” I ask, my blood pressure rising so quickly, I’m sure a vein must be pulsing visibly on my forehead.
“Your,” I pause to make air quotes as I say, “Little girl,” I pause again then clear my throat as I work to push down my anger before continuing, “Duped me into being her sperm donor, and you think I should be able to find humor in it?”
He sobers immediately. “Well, when you put it like that.”
Just when I think I’m making progress with that woman, I learn something completely unhinged about her that makes me think I should cut my losses and run for the hills.
Conrad says my name but I ignore him, intent on being as mad as I possibly can be regardless of anything he may have to say.
Cassidy chose to lie to me about something hugely important, something that will change my entire existence in more ways than just how I view the rink.
Cassidy is smart, attractive, all-in-all a real catch for anyone looking for a partner.
She could’ve just picked someone and not had to give up anything at all.
Which makes me wonder if there is no end to her duplicity?
“Ren,” Conrad shouts, drawing my attention to his face.
His expression is no longer amused, but he’s also not angry or any of the emotions I’m feeling.
“I can’t explain why my daughter chose to tell you this tale.
I won’t make excuses for her behavior. But I will ask one thing of you, a favor to an old man. ”
“What?”
“Hear her out.”
“You want me to hear her out?”
He nods, his expression serious. “Yes, that’s what I said.”
“And why the fuck would I do that?” I ask angrily, doing my best to squash the fury attempting to blind me to all reason. She could’ve had anyone, but instead she chose to lie to me to get me to go along with her plan. But why?
He says nothing, instead pushes his chair back from his desk and stands. Leaning forward, he grabs a frame from beside his monitor then carries it around his desk and stops in front of me, holding it out to me.
I stare up at him, ignoring his outstretched hand. After a moment he turns it so I can see the picture. It’s Cassidy, looking away from the camera, but smiling adoringly at someone off to the side. She looks radiant, excited, beautiful. And totally infatuated with whomever it is she’s staring at.
“When was that taken?”
“A few months ago.”
I stare hard at the image, trying to place where it may have been taken, but the look of adoration she’s pointing at some unknown figure has my cackles rising. “Well,” I snipe. “Maybe she should’ve married whatever dipshit she’s giving the googley eyes to.”
Conrad laughs. “You think?”
I nod, jealousy once again hot in my veins. “Sure. Tell me who he is, I’ll send him her number.”
“It’s probably better,” He pauses, opens the back of the frame, removes the photo, hands it to me. “If you see for yourself.”
I give him my best unamused look, but he just continues to hold the picture in front of me until, finally, I take it. Sure enough, the picture was folded so only Cassidy was shown in the frame. Part of me wants to rip the picture into a million pieces, to set it aflame, to pretend it never existed.
But the larger part of me, the sick twisted part that seems to like the idea of pain has me slowly unfolding the picture, my eyes entirely focused on Cassidy’s beaming face until I have no choice but to look at the sad son of a bastard she obviously holds great feeling for.
Slowly, I slide my eyes over. Then blink a few times, convinced I’ve lost my entire fucking mind as I recognize the man beside Cassidy.
It’s…me.
Cassidy is staring at—me.
“I don’t understand,” I mutter, my anger completely deflating as I stare at the image of us—together. A moment in time I don’t even remember, though I’m sure she remembers as if it was only yesterday.
I glance at Conrad who’s now seated in the chair beside mine as the location of this image dawns on me. “The interview.”
He smiles, nods. “My daughter is a lot of things—”
“Mentally ill?” I interject with a huff, only half joking.
Conrad gives me a stern look that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and then he responds, “Aren’t we all, in our own way?”
“That’s fair.”
He sighs heavily, slouching down in the chair. “I won’t lie and say I always did right by her. She had every opportunity that money could buy, but what she didn’t have was the close familial unit that she always craved.”
“She has mentioned that,” I reply. “She even mentioned this interview in particular, but she made it sound like she was eavesdropping behind the scenes, not sitting practically in my lap.”
“She likely wasn’t as close as that photo implies,” Conrad explains, his expression rather sheepish. “But Cassidy excels at being neither seen nor heard until she wants to be.”
“You ain’t fucking kidding.”
“I won’t give you all the gnarly details of her upbringing since I don’t feel it’s my story to tell.
But just know that Cassidy is the most genuine, soft-hearted woman you’ll ever meet…
” he drifts off as I give him some serious side eye, then he laughs softly and adds, “once you manage to earn her trust and break through the seemingly impenetrable walls she’s built for herself, of course. ”
We fall into a companionable silence I’m grateful for as I mull over what I’ve learned in a very short span of time.
As I question what all of it even means.
Is Cassidy just batshit crazy? Or is she so dead set on getting what she wants that she’ll cross any boundary to get it?
Is she so desperate for the family she was denied that she engineered one of her own making?
Glancing at my watch, I sit up, jump to my feet. “I better get back.”
“What are you going to do?”
I pause then shrug. “No fucking idea.”
Turning for the door, I stride out with far more determination than I truly feel. But then Conrad says, “You just have to ask yourself one question.”
I stop in the doorway, turning back with raise brows. “What’s that?”
“Does any of this change how you feel about her?”
My eyes close involuntarily at the question. I inhale sharply through my nose then release the breath slowly. When I open my eyes, I’m met with a rather self-satisfied looking Conrad.
With a final glare, I slam out of the room with far more annoyance than I truly feel.