Chapter 18 #2
“Picture this.” Athena swept her palm out, painting a picture. “I’m at this superfancy sponsorship dinner in Tokyo. I’m jet-lagged, barely keeping my eyes open, when suddenly this guy starts shouting at me in rapid-fire Japanese.”
Calista raised an eyebrow. “What’d you do?”
“What could I do? I smiled, nodded, and hoped I wasn’t agreeing to sell my soul or something. Turns out, he was challenging me to a putting contest right there in the restaurant.”
“No way! Did you do it?”
Athena grinned. “You bet I did. Beat him using a soup ladle as a putter.”
They burst out laughing.
“Okay, your turn.” Athena pulled a muffin from the bag. “Any wild party-planning stories?”
Calista thought for a moment. “Once, I wrangled a herd of escaped petting zoo animals at a farm-themed birthday party. Picture a dozen third graders hopped up on cotton candy, chasing chickens across a suburban backyard. Meanwhile, I’m trying to lure a very stubborn goat off the trampoline with a head of lettuce. ”
“Please tell me you have photos!”
“God, no. I was too busy keeping the rabbits from digging up the neighbor’s prize petunias.” Calista shook her head, grinning. “But I did get a five-star review and three more bookings from that chaos, so I guess it worked out.”
“Sounds like you found your calling.”
Calista met Athena’s gaze. “Yeah, I guess I did. It’s not professional golf, but . . .”
“It makes you happy. That’s what matters.” A comfortable silence fell between them, and then Athena spoke again, her voice quieter. “You know, sometimes I envy you.”
“Me?” Calista pressed a hand to her chest. “Why?”
“Because you dared to walk away, to find something that truly fulfills you. Meanwhile, I’m in an unfamiliar hotel room every week, staring at the ceiling and wondering if this is all there is to life.”
“It’s never too late to make a change, you know.”
Athena nodded, and then a mischievous glint lit her eyes. “Speaking of changes, what’s going on with you and Reid? I saw the way he looked at you in the bookstore yesterday. And how close you two were dancing.”
Calista ducked her head to hide the flush of her cheeks. “Oh, that’s . . . it’s nothing. Hey, did I tell you about the time I had to make an emergency pinata out of an box and leftover Easter candy?”
“Nice deflection, but fine, I’ll let it slide . . . for now. Tell me about this MacGyver pinata situation.”
Calista launched into her story, thanking the party-planning gods for providing her with an arsenal of distracting anecdotes. The Reid situation was definitely not something she was ready to unpack just yet.
“You know,” Athena said, “I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this. Certainly not around Dad.”
The mention of their father sobered Calista. She took a deep breath to steel herself. “Attie, speaking of Dad, we need to talk about him.”
Athena’s smile faded, replaced by wariness. “Do we have to?”
“I know you’re hoping he won’t retaliate for you canceling the tour and refusing to take his call, but you need to prepare yourself. He won’t take this lying down. His prime source of narcissistic supply is balking.”
Athena’s jaw clenched, a familiar stubbornness settling over her patrician features. “He’s our father, Cal. Surely he wouldn’t—”
“He would and he has. Whenever anyone challenges his control, he lashes out, and you canceled your tour without his permission. That’s a major challenge.”
“But I’m his ‘little angel.’ ” Her words shot out bitter and twisted. “His perfect golf prodigy. He wouldn’t risk ruining that, would he?”
Calista sighed, wishing she could shield her sister from harsh reality. “You’re only the favorite as long as you’re doing what he wants. The minute you step out of line, well, let’s just say I’ve been there and it’s ugly.”
Athena sat quiet for a long moment, methodically shredding a blade of grass. When she spoke, her voice was small, almost childlike. “What do you think he’ll do?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure, but knowing Dad, it’ll be calculated. He’ll find a way to make it seem like he’s the victim and you’re the one being unreasonable. He might try to cut you off financially or use his connections to make it hard for you to find sponsors when you return to golf.”
“How do you know all this about his motivations?”
“For one thing, I’ve had a lot of therapy.” Calista winced. “For another, Daddy Dearest sued me.”
“What!” Athena gave a vigorous shake of her head. “He sued you? For what?”
“Breach of contract.”
“You signed a contract with him?”
“No.” A soft sigh escaped her, and the old sadness filled her body. “He claimed we had a verbal agreement that he would provide financial support in exchange for a percentage of my earnings. By walking away, I breached the verbal contract.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Sadly, I am not.”
“So what happened?”
“My lawyer demanded a forensic accounting of my earnings dating back to when I first turned pro and our father became administrator of my finances. I was so focused on my career, and he paid for everything and gave me an allowance, I never questioned how the rest of the money was spent.”
Athena made a soft mewling sound.
“That is until I walked away. Athena, he embezzled thousands from me for years. When presented with the evidence, he dropped the lawsuit under the condition I didn’t pursue legal action against him for stealing my money.”
Athena gasped. “No!”
Calista met her gaze. “Is he still managing your finances?”
Her sister’s face turned beet red. It was answer enough. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“Because you’re the golden child?”
“No, I didn’t mean it the way it sounds.”
“He did it to me.” Calista shrugged, tension tightening her muscles. “Just saying you might want to take a look at your bank account.”
“No.” Athena rapidly shook her head. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Good god.” Athena flopped back onto the blanket. “How did we end up with such a manipulative asshat for a father?”
“Bad luck? Or maybe the universe’s idea of a cosmic joke. ‘Let’s take two sisters with incredible athletic ability and saddle them with a dad who makes Darth Vader look like a contender for Father of the Year.’ ”
That startled a laugh from Athena. “You know, when you put it that way, it almost sounds impressive. Like, congrats, Universe! You really outdid yourself this time.”
They giggled together, the sound slightly hysterical but genuine. When the laughter faded, Athena sat up, a serious expression in her eyes. “So what do we do? How do we . . . I don’t know, protect us from him?”
“I’m already on the outs, so I’m pretty safe.
You’re the one who’s in the crosshairs now.
” Calista took Athena’s hand in hers. “We get through it by sticking together. We make ourselves triangulation-proof. Remember that his opinion isn’t the one that matters, and you build a life outside his shadow. ”
“Is that what you did?” Athena asked.
“Eventually, yeah. It wasn’t easy, and there were definitely times I wanted to give up and crawl back to the familiarity of golf and my desperate attempts to gain his approval, but I found my path. You can, too, Attie.”
“Well, I guess we better head back.” Athena gently pulled her hand away. “I wanted to try a woodworking class in Crafters’ Corner. Maybe I’ll make birdhouses for a living.”
“Why not?” Calista teased. “Follow your dreams.”
They packed up their picnic and took the golf cart back to Crafters’ Corner. Calista imagined a future where this—spending time with her sister, laughing and sharing and just being together—was a regular occurrence.
But the moment they pulled up to the Lavender Lark, Calista understood they were already in trouble.
Cantu sat in a rocking chair on the wide veranda, sticking out like a corporate penguin at a luau, all crisp lines and polished shoes amid the B&B’s whimsical charm.
“Oh, holy hole in one. Darth Vader is one step ahead of us.” Calista put a restraining arm on Athena’s shoulder.
Beside her, Athena froze statue-still, as if Cantu were a T. rex with movement-based vision. Around clenched teeth, she mumbled, “Lissy, I can’t—”
Cantu was already gliding toward them, his face expressionless.
Here was the thing about having a narcissistic, near-billionaire father.
He never just texted. No, Benjamin Dempsey’s preferred method of ruining a perfectly good day was to dispatch his most loyal employee, complete with vintage chauffeur cap and crushing guilt, to deliver a gilded cream-colored envelope.
“Miss Athena,” Cantu said, removing his cap with the solemnity of a man delivering last rites. “Your father requests your immediate return home.”
Calista swallowed a laugh that tasted like battery acid. Of course he did. Heaven forbid Benjamin Dempsey go twenty-four whole hours without micromanaging someone’s life into submission.
“Cantu?” Athena’s voice held the kind of worry that ached in Calista’s chest. “I thought Mateo needed you.”
The man’s gaze dropped to his polished shoes. “He did, but your father summoned me back to Dallas.” The embossed, golden Dempsey crest on the envelope caught the late-morning light like a warning flare. “He instructed me to give you this.”
Athena’s hands shook as she accepted the envelope. Her fingers fumbled with the red wax seal, and it took her several attempts to open it and unfold the letter. Silently, she read the note and then passed it to Calista.
Athena,
End this childish rebellion, now. Return home immediately.
If you persist in this spectacle, I will be forced to reconsider Cantu’s role as my chauffeur.
His family’s security rests in your hands.
You have until the end of the day to make the correct decision, or Cantu will find himself standing in the unemployment line without a reference.
Oh, and as for Mateo, I’ll cut off your credit card that’s funding his rehab.
—Benjamin Conrad Dempsey
Calista wasn’t sure what that last part about Mateo meant, but she met her sister’s troubled gaze.
Athena gnawed her bottom lip and knotted her fingers together.
Gone was the competent golf pro and in her place was the anxiety-riddled eldest child always trying to keep the peace and make things right.
“This is what he does.” Calista crumpled the paper in her fist as if doing so could crush its poison. “He finds the weakest point and presses until people collapse and bend to his will. You can fight back, Attie. You don’t have to let him win.”
But she already knew what Athena would do. It was written in her posture—the rigid shoulders, and the downward tilt of her chin. The stance of someone preparing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others.
“He’s bluffing,” Calista said, her voice harsher now, trying to break through. “Cantu’s worked for him for over two decades. No one else would put up with Benjamin’s crap and he knows it.”
“And if he’s not bluffing?” Athena’s voice cracked, the raw edge slicing the sea air. “What happens to Cantu? To his family? Am I supposed to gamble with their lives?”
“That’s not your responsibility!” The words burst out of Calista before she could stop them. “You’ve spent your whole life letting him pull the strings. When does it stop?”
“When someone else doesn’t have to pay the price for my insurrection!” Athena shot back.
And there it was. The truth that had shaped Athena’s entire existence, laid bare between them like an exposed nerve.
“You’ve always had a choice,” Calista whispered. “You just have to be brave enough now to make the one that’s right for you.”
For a moment, Athena’s stony mask cracked, and doubt flashed over her face. Calista crossed her fingers. Please.
But then the moment was gone. Athena’s expression hardened. “Like Mom’s choice? The woman who let him take us away from her?”
Her words punched hard, and before Calista could respond, Athena turned toward the house.
Cantu lingered, his cap still clutched in his hands. His solemn gaze met hers. “I’m so sorry, Miss Calista.”
“Me too,” she murmured. “Me too.”