Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
LINC
Guilt eats away at me. I promised Daria I’d make up for missing lunch with her, but Tuesday was too busy, and today hasn’t been any better.
Kai doesn’t get back until tomorrow, which means I’ll be covering all his meetings as well. Normally, that’s not a problem.
It’s breaking my promise to Daria that has me wishing I could cancel board and finance meetings. It’s knowing she’s so close and yet so far away that has me wishing I hadn’t agreed to have lunch with Ryan today.
It’s a strange feeling to be a parent and feel so conflicted about seeing your child. I was surprised when he showed up on Monday. He hasn’t answered my calls for a while now, and the last time we did talk, it was clear I was an annoyance more than anything.
Our conversation on Monday was...nice. Ryan said he missed having a dad to talk to. I’m cautiously optimistic that lunch today will start to repair our relationship. Kai and Vic were both supportive—they always are—but even though they didn’t say it out loud, I could sense their concern.
Ryan has the tendency to be cruel. He almost treats me the way Felicia treated Vic. I guess he picked up some things from growing up with her, or maybe he’s simply treating people the only way he knows how.
But it wasn’t only his mom raising him; he had us. Kai and Vic loved him as much as I did, and while we weren’t perfect, we tried our best to show him what love should be like. We helped with homework, went to games, spent time with him, got to know his interests. Played video games for hours on end.
The breakup wasn’t easy on him. He has every right to be mad at me and the guys.
But maybe we can finally talk about it and work through some of that frustration. I miss the goofy kid who used to want to play Crash Bandicoot with me. I miss the little boy who wanted me to read to him every night before bed.
So, despite the vicious things my son has said to me in the past, I remain cautiously hopeful.
It kills me to put off Daria for another day, but our date is on Friday, and I’ll make it more than clear she’s also a priority.
“Lincoln?” Weston, the receptionist, asks through the comm line that connects to my office.
I press the button on my desk phone. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Should I send your son in? The food just arrived as well.”
“That’ll be great, Weston. Thank you.” Smoothing my shirt, I step inside the bathroom attached to my office and make sure my hair isn’t a mess.
“Checking yourself out?” Ryan asks with a chuckle.
“Have to make sure I look sharp,” I tell him, grinning as he holds up the bags of food. “Where do you want to eat? Here or in the private lunchroom?”
“Oh, for sure, the private room.” He smirks and, for a moment, I can see the little boy in his face.
I’m glad he decided we should talk. Not knowing what’s going on in his life has been so hard. “Follow me.”
The executive lunchroom is in the opposite direction of where Daria sits, which is probably a good thing. If I walked by her, I’d definitely have to stop and say hello, and then I’d have to find a way to explain to my son that a woman his age is our fated mate. Oh, and she hasn’t agreed to be our mate; we’re still courting her.
Ryan is a grown man, but even I know how awkward it might be to introduce him to someone who isn’t sure they really want to be in my pack.
“Did you guys get new diffusers? It smells different.”
I shoot him a confused look and hold open the door to the executive room. “I guess someone could’ve brought in something new.” Shrugging, I gesture toward the round table, waiting for him to set down the bags before I help him unpack the food. “It’s been a while since you came by,” I say casually, like it was no big deal that he came in again and again to tell me what an embarrassment I am for owning this business.
“Yeah,” he says as he takes his seat. “I guess you’re right.” Smoothing his short brown hair, he eyes my man bun.
Another thing he openly disdains. I brace myself for some comment about being a dumb hippie, but he quickly averts his gaze. The hot subs I ordered came with homemade chips. I grab my Philly cheesesteak and unwrap it.
“What have you been up to for the past...” I trail off. How long has it been since I last saw him? More than a year ago? “Well, what have you been up to?”
“I’ve been working here and there.” He takes a bite of his French dip.
“Oh? Is the pack still working with the investment team?”
He nods. “Yup. That’s all good. We’re doing cool things. How’s everything?” Sweeping his hand around our general space, he takes another bite.
“Good. We’re working on expanding into new markets and shifting from regional sales to national. It’s slow progress because we don’t want to expand too fast and spend all our money.”
Our business has been healthy for several years, but expanding to new markets is risky. Most new businesses take two years to establish themselves, so the national plan for Good Vibes is on a ten-year timeline to ensure each new site is viable. We don’t want to move too quickly and kill the company.
“And people like the stuff you offer?”
The stuff. I had hoped we wouldn’t get into this conversation. He’s never understood the value of sex toys or the experiences they can bring, and I’m not going to try and explain it to him again.
“We’ve done well enough to start expanding.” Time to shift to safe waters. “How’s the pack? Have you all been looking for a mate or...?”
Pausing with his sandwich halfway to his mouth, he narrows his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Dad. We’re trying to have a nice lunch.”
I rear back, like he slapped me. Our own mate is at the front of my mind, and I want him to have the same thing someday. “Sorry,” I say softly, holding up my hands. “I was only making conversation.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t need you prying into my love life.”
Fuck. I’m fucking this up. “All right,” I concede. “I wasn’t trying to pry, but I can see that my question was invasive. Do you guys have any travel plans?”
He takes a bite and chews, jaw working as he stares at me.
My stomach clenches at the anger that’s slowly kindling in his gaze. I hate that he is so mad. I hate that I’m responsible for it. “We were discussing maybe going to Paris in the spring. It’s supposed to be lovely.”
Ryan doesn’t react, so I keep rambling on, occasionally taking bites and hoping I haven’t ruined everything. By the time we finish our sandwiches, the angry look is gone, but he’s still quiet, wary almost.
“Help me out here, Ryan,” I plead. “I want us to be able to talk to each other. I shouldn’t have asked what I did, but can we talk about other things?”
“Why’d you pick Vic over Mom?” His expression is hard to read, but the question isn’t.
To him, we betrayed her, when really, it was she who betrayed us. Mating to a pack means just that. It’s not a pick-and-choose situation.
Swallowing, I look away. “Is that really the conversation you want to have right now?”
We’ve talked about it some before. With him having his own pack, I thought for sure he’d understand.
“No, you know what, forget that question. Can I tell you about what me and the pack have been working on?” He leans forward, clearly excited.
I exhale and nod. “Of course. I’d love to hear about that.”
Ryan starts explaining some deal they’re putting together and how hard they’ve been working to find investors and how well they’ve been doing. His features are so alive, so animated, I can’t help but smile as he recounts how they snagged the last investor.
“Wow,” I say when he pauses for a drink. “I’m really proud of you guys.”
“Well, don’t be proud yet. We haven’t got full funding yet.” He gives me a pointed look.
“It sounds like you’re close,” I tell him with a grin. “So, who’s the next target?”
A beat of silence passes between us. Ryan arches an eyebrow. Wrinkling my forehead, I try to ignore the warning signs. Like the dark glint in his gaze. The way his lips twitch at the edges, almost like he’s ready to laugh at me. The way his muscles tense, preparing for a fight—or a difficult sales pitch.
No. That can’t be why he’s here. He told me on Monday he wanted to work on our relationship, and our lunch has been...like walking on eggshells.
Ryan tilts his head. “You’re going to make me ask?”
“Ask what?” Don’t say it. Don’t use me. Don’t break my heart again, kid.
Sighing, he leans back in his chair. “I need you to invest.”
“Need?”
He nods. “We’re so close. We need another five hundred grand to fully fund.”
“Five hundred thousand dollars?” Despite my racing heart, I try to keep my voice level. “Ryan, what are you asking me for here?”
“I just told you I need you to invest.”
Told me. Is that all he sees when he looks at me? A purse to take from?
“Son, a half-million is a lot of money.”
He shrugs. “You said the company was doing great.” Glancing around, he takes in the executive lunchroom, which has sturdy but stylish furniture. It’s not like we splurged and lined everything with gold. “It’s really not that much.”
Five hundred thousand dollars isn’t that much? That’ll put a hefty dent in our expansion plans. Even if we could afford it, I don’t know if I want to give him the money. He didn’t even bother warming me up before demanding the money. He simply “needs” it.
“I can’t,” I tell him, shaking my head. “The business is expanding?—”
“Which means more revenue,” he cuts in.
“And expenses. Big ones. Infrastructure. Store fronts. Product costs.”
His features darken. “So, you’re not going to help me?”
“I mean, maybe I can connect you to people who invest in that type of business, but...” I trail off and grimace when his scowl deepens. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, sorry isn’t going to fund the project.” He pushes away from the table and glares down at me. “I thought we were finally going to bury the hatchet.”
I hurriedly stand. “I want to. I’d love for us to reconnect.”
He scoffs. “Clearly not bad enough.”
Is he asking me to buy my way back into his good graces? My chest cracks, and pain blooms, slicing through me like a thousand knives. “Ryan.”
“What, Dad? Huh? You sit here and talk about how amazing this stupid company is, but you can’t even support me and my dreams.”
“That’s not true. I support you.”
He shakes his head. “This was a mistake.” Leaving his trash on the table, he heads for the door.
I struggle to find a way to fix this. “Please don’t leave,” I say in a rush. “Can we talk? I’m sorry about the money but the company?—”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s always the company or your pack, isn’t it? You’ve always picked those two things over your family.”
“What?” I ask. “We built this company for our pack.”
“No,” he snaps, whirling around, fury trembling through him. “You built this company because Mom wasn’t enough for you.”
“We built this company for her. She and Vic?—”
“Don’t say his name to me.”
I pause and look at my son, wondering how things got so messed up. “Vic is your dad too.”
“No. He’s the beta who made you guys choose.”
“That’s not true.” I’ve made a point to never talk badly about his mom. “Did Felicia tell you that’s what happened?”
“Are you going to tell me she was lying?” Ryan narrows his eyes and steps forward.
This is a losing battle. “I think the reason your mom left is complicated.”
“You. Left. Her.”
“No.” While I may not want to get into all the dirty details, I’m not letting anyone pin the breakup on me and the guys. “She decided to leave.”
“No.” He shakes his head hard, as if to dispel the truth. “You’re wrong.”
Sighing, I search his face. “I’m not. She left.”
“You’re lying,” he screams. A vein pops out on his forehead, his face turning bright red.
And I see it. I see the kid who was so broken when we told him that we weren’t going to be living in the same house. I see the kid who cried and asked what he did wrong. I see the little boy who begged us to stay together. It fucking breaks me. My face heats, and I struggle to breathe normally, trying to keep a handle on my emotions so my own pain doesn’t set him off.
All I ever wanted for him was love and success and happiness. I wanted him to have everything I never had. I wanted him to have parents who cared, who were there for him when he asked. I wanted him to come to me with his problems. To ask for advice. To shoot the shit with me. I wanted him to, at the very least, like me.
But I’ve messed it all up. I’m no better than my own parents. Dread settles into my gut, a heavy weight that I’m not sure I can stand. I take a breath, hating that it trembles through me, hating that I can’t be strong for my son.
“Ryan,” I say, throat thick with emotion. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s really not. You didn’t want me or her. You wanted this stupid company.” Seething, he pins me with a vicious look. “Well, guess what? You got what you wanted. I’m done. Do me a favor and lose my number, because as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a dad.” With that, he storms out of the room.
The door slams, and his departure is like a bullet to the chest. Agony tears through me, my knees threatening to give out. I stagger to the chair and sit, dropping my head onto the table, trying to breathe through the heartache. The pain is familiar, so similar to the way I felt when we told him we were breaking up, it makes me nauseated. As if that isn’t enough, grief digs its talons in.
And for the first time in a long time, I cry. Ragged, heavy sobs heave out of me. I clench my fists, fighting the anguish, but it’s all too much. I’ve fucking lost him.