Chapter Fifteen #2
“You’re to come home. Once we arrive in New York, we will have a more thorough discussion.”
“Unless you plan to put a bag over my head and drag me onto the airplane, I won’t be leaving Quincy.”
Dad’s jaw clenched. “You’ve made your point, Memphis. You’ve had your little tantrum. Enough.”
“You think this is a tantrum?” I huffed a dry laugh. “This isn’t me acting out to get your attention. I don’t need or want you in my life.”
Imagining Drake saying that statement to me would have been like a dagger through my chest.
Mom flinched.
Dad didn’t so much as blink.
“If you want a thorough discussion . . .” I threw his words at him. “We’ll be having it here. This is your window of opportunity.”
He pursed his lips.
“Fine.” I made a move to stand but he held up a hand.
“I received a call from a woman.”
I settled into my chair as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “Who?”
“She didn’t give me her name. But she claims that you have Oliver MacKay’s child.”
It took everything I had not to react. I felt the color drain from my face, yet I didn’t move. I barely breathed.
“She’s blackmailing us. Either we pay her to keep quiet or she’ll be going to the press. You’re to come home so I can ensure you keep your mouth shut while my lawyers eviscerate her.”
My heart beat so hard it hurt. Who was this woman? How could she know about Oliver? Unless this was all a lie. Maybe Mom’s private investigator had done more than simply follow me to Montana. Maybe I’d screwed up and left some trace along the way.
Dad was stubborn enough to intrude into his daughter’s personal life.
“Here’s what I don’t understand.” I held up a finger when Dad opened his mouth. “Why do you want to know so badly? Why?”
“Why won’t you just tell me so we can deal with this mess? Is it Oliver MacKay?”
“It’s not your business.”
“Damn it, Memphis.” He leaned forward, a growl in his voice. “You are acting like an insolent child.”
“You are not entitled to control of my life.”
“I am your father.”
I shook my head. “You do not understand the meaning of that word.”
“Memphis, this is so petty,” Mom said. “Your father is trying to help. But we need all of the information.”
“This woman. This blackmailer. Let her go to the press.” It was the last thing I wanted but I suspected my father felt the same. So I’d call his bluff.
As long as I didn’t admit or confirm that Drake was Oliver’s child, there was nothing but speculation. Considering I was in Montana, this drama wouldn’t touch me in the slightest.
But it would definitely put a damper on Dad’s day.
“Oliver MacKay?” Dad seethed. “Really, Memphis? I thought you were smarter than that. Instead you’ve acted like a whore and now I’m cleaning up this mess.”
Mom tensed in her chair but she certainly didn’t come to my rescue.
A whore. Maybe. It stung, but it wasn’t the first time he’d used his words like a whip.
“If you’re worried about your reputation and a scandal, then pay the woman and be done with it.
Or don’t pay her. I don’t care. But I told you months ago, my son is mine and mine alone.
You can either accept that or not. It doesn’t matter. We don’t need you.”
“I’ll use the money from your trust fund.”
“Are you here looking for my permission? Trust me, I realized the day I left that the money would never be mine.”
“Is it true? Is it Oliver?” Mom asked.
I clamped my mouth shut.
“Memphis.” Dad enunciated both syllables of my name. That meant he was moving beyond angry to infuriated. “You realize that if this gets out, people will believe we’re linked to that family.”
“So?”
Dad’s eyes narrowed. “We cannot afford a scandal with the mafia. I’ve spent my life rebuilding our good name.”
His life’s work had been spent correcting his own father’s mistakes.
My grandfather had started Ward Hotels in New York. He’d been extremely profitable in a time when other hotels had not. Dad had never confirmed exactly why, but when I was twelve, the FBI had investigated the business.
The only reason I’d known about it was because an agent had come to our home one day. I’d been sick and hadn’t gone to school. My nanny had made me stay in bed all day, but I’d wanted to watch TV. So while she’d thought I was napping, I’d snuck out of my room.
An FBI agent had been standing in our foyer asking Mom questions. I’d sat at the top of the stairs and listened to them all.
Whatever illegal undertakings my grandfather had done to get ahead, my father had unraveled them. Nothing had come from that investigation as far as I knew, and there were no illegal happenings at Ward, I’d bet my trust fund on it.
But our good name had become Dad’s obsession. Just the idea that I’d tangled with Oliver MacKay, well . . .
I doubted he would have flown to Montana had Drake’s father been any other man.
“None of this involves me. You have plenty of lawyers who can continue to protect your precious reputation. Sic your bloodsuckers on this woman, whoever she is. I don’t care.”
“You would turn your back on your family?”
“Be careful, Daddy. Your hypocrisy is showing.” I stood from the chair, done with this conversation. “My family is here. My son is my family. You know, that little boy you couldn’t even look at yesterday? His name is Drake, by the way.”
Dad stood, pointing a finger at the table. “We’re not done talking. Sit down.”
“I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye after you evicted me. So I’ll remedy that today. Goodbye, Dad. Goodbye, Mom. Safe travels home.”
Without another word, I stalked to the door, whipping it open and storming down the hallway. The elevator opened almost immediately after I pushed the down arrow and once I was safe inside, I closed my eyes and breathed.
If they stayed tonight, I’d be cleaning their room tomorrow. Humiliation crept through my veins, and I squeezed my eyes tighter.
This was just one more hurdle to cross. They’d leave and eventually people would forget that Victor and Beatrice Ward had a second daughter. They’d forget me too.
The ding of the elevator chimed before I was ready and the doors slid open. Mateo was at the front desk, his eyes on his phone. When he heard my footsteps on the floor, he glanced over, ready to speak, but the look on my face must have changed his mind.
He simply nodded and let me escape into Knuckles.
There wasn’t much of a breakfast crowd. The hotel was quiet this weekend, but according to Eloise, every room was sold out for Thanksgiving in two weeks.
I hadn’t thought about the holidays. I’d never spent one away from my family.
Family.
That word didn’t hold much weight at the moment. It rang hollow in my mind.
But I had Drake. I’d always have Drake.
I stepped into the kitchen and, at the sight that greeted me, came to a full stop.
Knox stood at the sink, the water running over a potato, but he wasn’t paying any attention to the spud. He was pretending to snack on Drake’s cheek, earning a drooly smile.
The two of them together were so true and real that my eyes flooded. I’d left my composure on the third floor. The first tear streaked down my face as Knox glanced over his shoulder, finding me by the door.
He dropped the potato and smacked a fist on the sink to shut off the water, then he walked over and pulled me into his chest with his free arm. “I should have gone with you.”
“No.” I sniffled, reining in the tears. “It was best I went alone.”
“Are they leaving?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
“Memphis, you gotta tell me what’s going on.”
“I know.” I leaned away and looked up at my son. A beautiful baby boy with blond hair like mine.
And like his father’s.