Chapter 26 Sullivan
SULLIVAN
“Two dozen,” I clip. “Thank you.”
Cara hovers in the doorway and I wave her in as I end the call.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” she starts. “I came to check what the emergency was and—”
“It’s fine. But regardless, I’ve called the agency and they’re reassigning you.”
Her face falls. “I thought my work was good.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your work. It’s your attitude about certain things I have an issue with.”
“The waitress?” She scoffs.
I stretch my fingers against my suit pants as I lean back in my chair, composing myself.
“Miss Miller, Tate,” I roll her name off my tongue, “is important to me. So I suggest you watch your tone if you’d prefer I don’t inform the agency of my concerns regarding your work ethic.”
“You just said there’s nothing wrong with my work,” she argues.
I sigh.
“Do you suggest embarking on physical relationships with all of the CEOs you’re assigned to?”
Her face pales. “What?”
I wave a hand in the air. “It doesn’t matter. If they want to take you up on your offer, that’s up to them. But that was never going to happen with me. Now, please pack up your things. Your replacement is on their way.”
The air is heavy and thick.
“You’re a jerk,” she hisses.
My attention is already on my emails as I scroll through the new ones.
“Maybe if I’d offered on a Thursday, you’d have taken me to The Lanceford, and we’d be having a different conversation entirely.”
There’s a cold smile on her face as I flick my eyes up to her.
“I don’t think so, Cara. And seeing as you know so much about my personal life, perhaps you’d like to update your notes.
I haven’t set foot in The Lanceford since meeting Miss Miller.
Because she—” I pause for effect. “Is the epitome of a woman whom I would do whatever it took to get a moment of her time, any day of the week.”
Natasha: Peaches is my daughter. You can’t stop me from seeing her.
I rub at my temples with one hand, pocketing my phone with the other. Natasha’s demands are becoming more frequent.
She’s a problem that I don’t have the energy to fucking deal with right now.
“Everything okay, Son?”
I drop my hand to my thigh, holding back a curse.
“Fine.”
My father’s eyes narrow and he studies me. He knows me better than anyone. But any concerns he might have are shoved aside as Uncle Mal slams his hand on the table.
“What the hell does he think he’s doing?” he rages. “Leaving notes on Elaina’s grave… ambushing Sinclair like that?”
My sister’s head swivels in our direction at his outburst from across the room where she’s sitting coloring with Molly and Halliday. It’s early and Seasons isn’t open yet. My father called us all here for a meeting to discuss the latest updates with Neil, my mother’s ex-lover, being in New York.
The man is either brave or stupid if he thinks coming here and approaching Sinclair was a good idea. Denver had his gun trained on him, prepared to blow his brains out if it had come to that.
But it didn’t.
Neil says he has questions. He claims he saw a man walking away from the yacht before the fire took over and caused the explosion that killed them both.
He followed my mother that day to ask her to leave my father. I don’t believe a word out of the asshole’s mouth knowing that. This could all be a cruel lie to mess with our family.
They’re both dead. Nothing will bring them back.
“We don’t trust a word he says without evidence,” my father says, lowering his voice.
“We’ll get on it, Boss,” Denver says. “And we’ll pay Neil a visit tonight. See if there’s anything else we can squeeze out of him.”
Killian and Jenson nod in agreement beside him.
“I’m coming,” I add, meeting Denver’s eyes.
He holds mine, understanding passing between us. If this fucker is messing with my family. It means he’s going to have to answer to all of us.
“Me too.” Uncle Mal seethes. “I want to know what the asshole thinks he’s doing. Visiting my sister’s grave.”
He drops his head into his hands, pushing his fingers through his thinning dyed blond hair. We’ve all had to live with the aftermath of that day. But Uncle Mal is the one who wears his grief more obviously in the weathered lines on his face, and the deep hollow shadows around his eyes.
It fucking ruined us all.
“Denver,” my father says, leaning back in his chair with a weighted sigh. “Stay with Sinclair tonight. She’s shaken. Let the boys handle this. If Neil gives us anything useful, then you can pay him a visit yourself, okay?”
Denver’s shoulders bunch as he rests his forearms on his thighs and cracks his knuckles. “Yes, Boss.”
His eyes flick to my sister across the room and I almost feel sorry for the poor guy. She’s made no secret of the fact she doesn’t like him. And they’ve been stuck together for weeks while he acts as her bodyguard.
“You sure everything’s okay? Fabienne still trying to give you grief?” my father asks as the other men stand and disperse.
“When are they not?” I snort. “But now that we own them, they can’t do a lot about it.
I’ve got a team dismantling their operations as we speak.
Any employees who might be valuable to Beaufort Diamonds will be given the opportunity to prove themselves.
The rest will be getting their severance checks in the mail. ”
“Another opponent gone,” my father muses with a chuckle. “You’re more ruthless as CEO than I was, Son. I’m proud of you.” He squeezes my knee.
“Culling the competition is therapeutic,” I reply, looking over at Molly as my mind flicks to Natasha. If she were a company, I’d have dealt with her by now. She’d be a distant memory. But money doesn’t solve issues with her, it just creates more.
“Speaking of things that are good for us.” My father follows my gaze, only his settles on Halliday. His eyes soften, the love he has for her rolling off him in waves. “The girls were talking about arranging Hallie’s bachelorette. They want it in London so her friend over there can join them.”
“Sounds good,” I reply, my chest tightening with realization from the way he can’t take his eyes off Halliday.
I’m envious of my own father.
He’s found love after loss. He’s opened himself up to possibilities.
“How are things working out with finding Molly a nanny?”
“There’s… a suitable candidate. But it’s early days. Molly’s still getting to know her.”
“You mean you’re still analyzing her every move before you let Molly out of your sight with her?” He’s looking straight at me, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I get it, Son. This is Molly we’re talking about. But kids need space to grow, and we have to let them.”
“I hate that you’re right.”
He chuckles. “Call it experience. You don’t get to my age and not learn a lesson or two. Including when to just be damn well grateful for what’s right in front of you.”
Halliday beams back when she sees him looking at her again.
He’s right. I need to learn how to relax when it comes to Molly’s care. The thought of my overprotectiveness hindering her in any way makes me want to tear the world in two.
I just don’t know how to start.