Chapter 9
Oh, hell no!
Heston
That guy staring should’ve creeped me out. It should’ve.
His gaze was so intense, almost feral. But I was almost drawn to him. He was pulling me toward him, urging me to come closer, and I almost did, as though he were a magnet and I was a piece of metal.
If I’d had the car, I could have slammed the door, put my foot down, and zoomed out of the stuffy country club where I didn’t belong.
I didn’t have the right clothes or the ability to talk about money.
Nor did I have the right vehicle, though today I had none.
I’d bet no guest had ever arrived in a chauffeur-driven car and left on foot.
Don’t look back, I told myself as I did exactly that, though I pretended my shoelace was undone, and as I squatted, I glanced back the way I’d come. He hadn’t moved, and his gaze was so intoxicating, it pinned me in place.
But that wasn’t my only response. My cock, which should have been minding its own business, swelled, pressing against my zipper as beads of sweat dotted my upper lip. My chest heaved, reminding me of when I belonged to an athletic club in college and finished a race.
The phone beeping snapped me out of my daze, and I tore my gaze away from the guy on the clubhouse stairs and studied the message.
I need an answer by tomorrow.
Only Sebastian would expect me to make a huge commitment based on nothing. He hadn’t told me where, when, what, or how much regarding this super-secret job he was dangling in front of me.
I got up and tapped out a message while conscious of those eyes on me, like tentacles that wrapped around my body, threatening to drag me to the source which was that damned guy.
Can you give me some details? It’s not illegal, is it?
I’d never known Sebastian to do anything unlawful, but he was fond of cutting corners with accounting and taxes. I’d overheard enough when in their home to understand he skirted the rules.
Don’t insult me. Let me know by nine in the morning or I’ll give the job to someone else.
I doubted that was true, because I would not have been Sebastian’s first choice for anything, especially a position that supposedly would upend my life and end dad’s and my financial worries.
He needed me, but for what? How could I be of use to my stepfather when he had the house, the money, and the company?
All I had that was of value to Sebastian was my name: Davidson. A name I was considering getting rid of. Heston Maverick Davidson. I pictured a guillotine falling and slicing my last name into a basket, and me holding it up and parading it around.
That was more than a tad dramatic, but I was still angry at Father for being so cruel to Dad.
While I wished I was brave enough to march back to the clubhouse and demand the guy explain why he was looking at me, I had to get home.
One last peek at his broad shoulders and dark hair tied in a ponytail, the elegance of his clothes, and the way he casually leaned on the railing, and I turned away.
Did rich people have a handbook where they studied poses?
This is the way a poor person stands. Don’t do that. Lean just so and put your other hand in your pocket.
I sniggered and imagined Sebastian studying just such a book and posing in front of the mirror, but never quite getting it right. Unlike the country club guy who was probably gifted that book, if it existed, the day he was born.
Two bus rides and a walk and I was finally home. Dad wasn’t in the living room. Not a surprise as the TV was on.
“I’m home.” I poked my head in the door, expecting to see him engrossed in a telenovela. But he was in bed, unblinking eyes staring at a place on the wall, his uneven breathing more of a whistle.
“Dad!” I raced to the bed and shook him.
“Stop, I’m fine,” he groused. I took his hand and pressed his clammy skin on mine.
Damn, I would have been home much earlier if I’d had the car. I felt bad leaving Dad alone for so long.
“Do you feel like eating?” I mentally rummaged through what was in the fridge. “Does an omelet sound good?”
“Only if you share it with me.”
I sat by Dad’s bed as we ate our very late lunch, and when he fell asleep, I crept out and took the spare tire to the closest gas station.
When I returned, I changed that tire for the flat and went back to the tire place, not wanting to be caught out again.
With Dad being so ill, I couldn’t risk having the car out of service.
When I was done, I took a shower and started dinner. But Dad’s rattling breathing punctuated the air. I couldn’t delay my decision and texted Sebastian.
Fine, I’ll take the job. I also emailed him the ballpark figure of what we needed for the operation, though the final amount depended on how long Dad stayed in the hospital.
The phone rang, rousing my dad from his long nap. Damn, Sebastian was calling me.
“Who is it, Heston? Is that the hospital?”
The only calls I got were from the hospital or my work when someone didn’t turn up for a shift.
“It’s a friend, Dad.”
I strolled into the bathroom and closed the door.
“Yes.”
“Here’s the deal.”
Was it off that neither of us said hello?
“Planet Partners is looking to merge with us.”
By us, he was referring to the company my father built that he now owned and ran. Dwell: A Davidson Real Estate Company. I wasn’t part of the equation.
“Okay.” Sebastian was the sole owner, and he didn’t need my signature, so I couldn’t fathom what part I was playing in this saga.
“But we’re not the only firm he’s looking at. We need a hook to reel him in.”
Gods, he needed to stop with the “we” business. I was a pawn in all of this, whatever this was.
“Go on.” An image of me on the end of a reel luring fish to their doom flashed before me. There was my overactive imagination again.
“Rein Hayes, owner of a multinational company, Planet Partners, has a real estate arm, and he also has a son, and I have it on good authority he wants him married off.”
I leaned my head on the bathroom door, not liking the direction the conversation was taking.
“What’s that got to do with me?” Surely he didn’t expect me to sleep with the guy, get pregnant with the heir’s child, and what? I couldn’t see any further, even though that thinking was more like Dad’s soap operas than real life.
“You marry him.”
“What?” Shit, even if my dad was snoozing, he’d be awake now.
“It’s the perfect solution. We’ll be swimming in money, and I can get rid of that damn monstrosity of a company.” He sighed. “Do you know how many times a day I sign my name?”
Oh, to have a job where I was only expected to scrawl my signature. But Father had done much more, and a kernel of worry formed in my belly.
“You must be out of your mind, Sebastian. No way am I marrying a stranger so you can get even richer.” Maybe Father’s death had affected him. I’d always considered my stepfather to have a heart of stone.
“Then dear old dad will meet his maker sooner rather than later.” He ended the call.
“Heston, are you in there?”
Shit, Dad was outside. I flushed the toilet and washed my hands.
“Sorry. I’ll start dinner.”
He pushed the walker back into the bedroom, his pale brow furrowed in confusion.
For the first time since my dad became ill, I was pleased he slept so much. After dinner, I sat in the living room, googling Rein Hayes and his family. He had two sons, one of whom had a girlfriend, so it must be the older one, Roy.
He was good-looking, but there was something in his eyes I couldn’t pinpoint.
A harshness, perhaps? No, more brutal. I shivered, as if his hand was gripping my arm, and goosebumps crawled over me, not getting any sense of kindness or warmth.
His haughty expression reminded me of the people at the club today.
A thump from Dad’s room alerted me he was awake again, and I went in. His covers were on the floor, and he’d squashed one pillow against the wall. But it wasn’t the bedding that worried me; it was his breathing.
We’d done plenty of late-night runs to the ER and tonight would be yet one more.
As I sat in the waiting room after Dad had been whisked away, I got out my phone and weighed it on my palm. It was my life or Dad’s, and that was a straightforward choice.
I’ll do it, I texted Sebastian.