Chapter Ten #3
“Would you shame a lion for eating a wildebeest?” Bass asked.
“It is in its nature for the lion to hunt and for the wildebeest to be eaten. It’s the circle of life, and death is a part of it, however unpleasant that may seem to your delicate sensibilities.
” He stood and threw his crumpled-up napkin onto his plate.
“And to think, you’re going to throw your whole financial legacy away for a pig!
” He stormed off down the beach toward the water.
Saoirse stared after him, her heart galloping in her chest. She felt like she had just run a mile. Her face was red; she felt flushed.
“Really, Saoirse, did you have to provoke him?” Ransom asked. “You know he has a heart condition, and it’s not good for him to get riled up like this.”
“Me?” Saoirse asked weakly. “He—he started this.”
“He has your best interest in mind,” Ransom said, “and you know he can’t help himself but get carried away, especially if he thinks you’d come to harm.”
Ransom looked sternly across the table at her, and there was something in his eyes that Saoirse was all too familiar with: disappointment.
She’d seen it in her mother’s eyes every time she looked at her; she’d seen it in her father’s eyes, even Tabby’s on occasion.
Maybe she had been the one in the wrong.
Again. How did she always manage to make such a mess of things?
“I’ll go talk to him,” Saoirse said, pushing back her chair and discarding her napkin on the table.
She would make it right. She had to.
Tabby put a hand on her arm to stay her.
“Really, a grown man of his age should have better control of his temper,” she said.
“If he was a toddler, we’d spank him and send him to bed without supper.
I don’t know why you would indulge him by running after him and coddling his pride.
In my opinion, our company is much improved by his absence. ”
“I have to, Tabby,” Saoirse said. “I’ll be right back.”
Saoirse saw Bass’s figure down the shoreline.
He had stopped and was facing out toward the water, his hands in his pockets—whether because he was waiting for her to come and apologize and bring him back or because he had simply run out of beach, Saoirse didn’t know.
She took off her shoes and held them in one hand as she made her way toward him.
William Bass was a tall man, like her father.
He still had a full head of hair, despite his forty-seven years of age, though now it was salted with gray.
He’d grown slightly portly in the middle, as most men his age did, but he wore it well.
It struck Saoirse suddenly, took her breath away—the realization that from a distance, with a glance, Bass might be her father.
In their youth, Bass and Charles were markedly different: both tall, but Bass had been lean, whereas Charles had been stocky; Bass all bronzed skin and brassy hair, while Charles had the trademark dark mane of the Towerses.
But now, age had likened them. Bass had thickened; his hair had grayed.
If Charles had still been alive, it might have been her father standing there.
“Are you going to punish me forever?” Bass asked, when she had caught up with him.
Saoirse came to stand beside him and looked out at the water too. “I’m not punishing you,” she said.
Bass cocked an eyebrow at her, and Saoirse relented.
“Well, okay, yes, maybe I was punishing you a little bit,” she said. “But I really do feel that way, that I can’t be involved in something that goes against my beliefs. I would be a hypocrite if I did.”
Bass nodded. “How long have you been thinking about this?” he asked.
“A while,” Saoirse said. “And it did occur again to me this morning, this time with the aim of pissing you off.” She smiled a little; she couldn’t help it.
She went on. “But as soon as I said it, I realized I don’t want to hurt you.
But I do need to do this. I feel in my heart that it’s the right thing to do. ”
Bass didn’t say anything.
“You’ve always encouraged me to speak my mind, to follow the beat of my own drum,” Saoirse said. “Won’t you still encourage me to do that, even though my mind, for once, is not aligned with yours?”
“It’s not so simple, Saoirse,” Bass said. “It’s hard for me to encourage this behavior when I see the harm that it will do to you, and all for a cause I don’t understand. You’re giving up a financial legacy that your father and I built for you. Does that mean nothing?”
“Of course it means something,” Saoirse said.
“And have you given any thought to what you will do with the money, once it’s divested?” Bass asked. “You can’t just let it sit there. When I think of the way that money will depreciate, wasting away in a bank account, my God. You have to have a plan for it.”
“I will,” Saoirse said, though in truth, she hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“I’m not sure what terrifies me more—the money sitting there, wasting away in a bank account, or where you might choose to put it.
It’s fine to have a cause you believe in, but to invest your entire financial future in it is an entirely different matter.
Just causes do not always equate to wise investments.
Saoirse, you could lose everything. And then what? ”
She didn’t answer.
“Promise me, at least, that you won’t do anything rash,” Bass said. “That you’ll really think things through and exercise caution. Let Ransom and I put together a plan for you to take a look at. Something reasonable.”
Saoirse pursed her lips. It sounded sensible, everything Bass was saying. But after what Bass and Ransom had done to her, she didn’t know how to trust them again.
But what could she say? No, she wouldn’t consider their carefully crafted proposals, meant to protect her assets and secure her financial future? They did, after all, know far more about financial planning and investments than she did.
It was useless to argue about this, just as it had been useless to argue about them keeping her here. We are doing it for your own good, for your own protection, they would say. And maybe that was true.
“I’ll think about it,” Saoirse said finally.
This seemed to soften Bass a little. “Let’s not fight,” Bass said. “Let’s talk of happier things. I have a surprise for you. We were going to wait to tell you, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.”
“Tell me what?” Saoirse asked.
“We’re throwing a party, for your birthday,” Bass said. “And not just any party—something really grand. Two, three hundred guests. A live band or orchestra. Dinner, dancing, fireworks. We’ll make it the party of the year, the event to be at.”
For a moment, Saoirse’s heart leaped. People. She’d missed being around people. The conversation, the laughter. A hug, a handshake, being touched. Dancing. She’d missed live music and getting dressed up.
“Ransom agreed to this?” Saoirse asked, skeptical.
“He did,” Bass said.
“He’s not worried about all the ways I might expose myself?” Saoirse asked.
Bass was quiet for a moment, thoughtful.
“We both know that the past year has been hard on you,” Bass said.
“I won’t rehash the past. You know our reasoning, even if you don’t agree with it.
We’ll always fight to protect you, Saoirse, even if the person we’re fighting is you.
” He cleared his throat. “But this is a new chapter we’re embarking on.
Let’s leave the past in the past and start anew.
Shall we?” He held out his arm to escort her back to the table.
Saoirse looked at him. Was it a bribe she was accepting, or an olive branch?
Why couldn’t things ever be simple? A godfather watched over his godchild.
A brother looked out for his little sister.
Saoirse didn’t doubt that either of these things was true.
But were they more true than a CEO wanting to avoid a large divestiture in his company by one of its biggest shareholders?
Or a congressman wanting to protect his image?
Which was it? Could it be both? Which was it more of?
Was she being naive in trusting them, or coldhearted and stubborn by refusing a genuine peace offering?
Saoirse sighed. She put on a smile and took Bass’s arm.
She would go along with it, on the surface, but she would have her guard up.
“Lead the way,” she said.
She could be more than one thing at once too.