Chapter 10 #3
It was just easier to believe it was that simple.
“I drove myself. I’m not an invalid, you know.” Her mom smiled then, chiding Reese like she’d done when Reese was a little girl.
“That’s not the point! Why didn’t Grant or Dad take you? Do they know what’s going on? You were obviously worried. You needed support.”
“Yes, your dad and brother are aware of what’s going on,” her mom admitted before adding, “It was a routine check-up, even if I was nervous about it. I drove myself, and everything was fine.”
Reese looked at her skeptically, frustration blooming hotly in her chest. Guilt warred with anger so that neither had a place to dissipate.
“I want to know when you get the results. Please.”
“Yes, honey. I promise I’ll keep you updated. Are you going to be around for a while?”
Reese nodded emphatically. “Yes, I’m moving back to Stoneport. I’ve moved back to Stoneport already, actually.”
In her mom’s defense, it seemed like there was a lot they didn’t tell one another, and Reese was just as culpable.
“Reese, that makes me so happy.” Her mom’s voice choked up with sincerity, and a rogue tear streamed out from under her sunglasses.
Outward emotion wasn’t especially common in their family, but Reese attributed it to the health scare her mother was reaching the tail end of, hopefully with a positive (or negative, as the case may be) conclusion.
But the way her mom said it, the way she let out a deep exhale when Reese told her, made her feel like she’d made the right decision to come home.
“Apologies that we’re a few minutes late,” Stan said as he, Tripp, and Grant approached the table, paying no attention to the fact that they were the first ones there besides Reese and Sharon.
The Devereux men did not have the same apologetic nature. Tripp took the seat right next to Stan when he sat down, and Grant sat on the other side of Tripp.
As Reese looked across the table at Grant and Tripp, she felt like she was at a middle school dance, where the boys and girls flocked to separate sides of the school gymnasium. Did her dad and brother think she had cooties or something?
The hot, overwhelming feeling that had been simmering below the surface reared up again.
Her dad hadn’t even talked to her mom yet, hadn’t even seen her since her appointment yesterday. He’d spent the night in Boston, Margie had mentioned, choosing to stay in the city instead of comforting his wife.
Disgust, she finally identified, was the feeling welling up inside of her by the time Margie, Brynn, and Sydney approached the table.
Sydney clocked the look on her face immediately, mouthing a ‘you okay?’ as she sat down in the open seat between Reese and Stan.
Reese nodded but clenched her fists under the table.
She felt Sydney’s hand enveloping her own, and it allayed the roiling in her stomach until her father spoke.
“I’m starving,” Tripp said as he leaned back in his chair, perusing the menu. “What do you recommend here, Stan?”
Stan was contemplative, really giving the question a degree of thought that Reese didn’t think it warranted. “The turkey club is great, but you can never go wrong with a lobster roll.”
But oh, what it must be like to be Tripp Devereux, with not a care in the world except his next meal.
Either he was the master of compartmentalization, or Reese had been giving him too much credit throughout her life—which was really saying something, since she’d never had a strong positive opinion of him outside anything related to business.
“Oh,” Brynn said, her attention turned toward Reese. “The store didn’t have the dresses available for pickup yesterday, but they overnighted them. If you’re up for it, we can head over after lunch and try them on.”
The idea of even a small respite from her father was like music to Reese’s ears. “That sounds great,” she said, meaning it.
“Mom and Sharon, you’re both welcome to join if you’d like,” Brynn added effusively, her big eyes looking pointedly back and forth between them to really sell the invitation.
Sharon spoke first. “Oh, I’m not sure…”
“You should come along, Mom.” Reese leveled a soft smile in her direction. “It’ll be nice to have you there.”
Reese wanted to keep her mom close right now, to let her know that she wasn’t alone. It was a feeling that Reese understood all too well, like the world was on her shoulders and asking for help would only be a bother to other people.
“What about me?” Stan asked, surprisingly glum.
Brynn rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Dad, you already came to my dress fitting. Maybe we give Reese a little space today, yeah?”
Stan tilted his chin up, a surprisingly childish look that he wore well, and again, it made Reese soften slightly. He relented. “Well, I suppose that I can be convinced to go home and start prepping dinner while you all are out having fun. Those steaks aren’t going to marinade themselves.”
“Exactly, honey,” Margie said to mollify him, smiling broadly. Reese expected this wasn’t the first time they’d had a variation of this charming domestic conversation.
What would that be like? Having a father that wanted to do even stereotypically feminine things with you just to spend time together? To not want to miss a moment of the person you were becoming?
Reese had spent her life fitting into the mold of her father’s world, and it still hadn’t granted her entry.
Sydney’s thigh was resting against her own, like she was willing Reese to calm down.
It was a whole special level of frustration that she couldn’t even enjoy a beautiful woman wanting to casually touch her as they enjoyed lunch together!
And, really, she was trying.
Trying to calm her racing mind. Trying to not think the worst of her father’s behavior, trying to tell herself that maybe she didn’t have the whole story.
Trying, trying, trying…
…and failing, evidenced by the fact that by the time their meals arrived, her eyes had narrowed into slits.
It was almost physically impossible for them not to, given the way her father was bloviating at length on The Devereux Group and his plans for their future expansion into the mid-Atlantic region.
“It’s an ambitious plan, Tripp, but you know I don’t generally discuss business during family time,” Stan said before taking a bite of his lobster roll.
Tripp nodded and cut into his salmon. “Right, right. But since we’re becoming family, the two are blending together, no? When would we ever talk shop?” he asked, letting out a forceful laugh.
Margie placed her napkin back on her lap, having used it to wipe off an especially creamy-looking spot of sauce from her seafood pasta.
“Stan has dedicated working hours when we’re at home together.
Unless one of his investment properties is actively burning down, we’ve learned over the years that it can wait. ”
“Absolutely, my dear,” Stan agreed. “There will always be another deal. Another cocktail hour. Another young upstart looking to earn their piece of the pie. ”
Reese wasn’t sure, but she felt like Stan’s gaze lingered on her brother for an extra half second longer than was normal as he’d said the words. Probably wishful thinking on her part.
Was it so wrong to want everyone to dislike the same people you disliked?
She didn’t think so.
“That’s why it’s so great to work with family.” Tripp wrapped his arm around Grant’s shoulders and squeezed firmly.
Gross .
“Managing director is an ambitious undertaking for someone so young,” Stan said, his fork pointed in Grant’s general direction, like he was daring her brother to disagree.
Tripp was quick with a response, cutting any retort Grant could possibly have off at the knees. “Promoted last year, but the business is in his blood. I have no doubt he’ll make a fine president of The Devereux Group one day.”
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Sydney whispered, leaning in close before she gave Reese’s thigh an affectionate squeeze.
“Understatement of the year,” Reese whispered back before Sydney returned to sitting fully in her own chair, taking another bite of her poke bowl as she tried to hide her smile.
“Around the time Brynn and Grant were engaged, if I remember correctly.” Stan polished off his lobster role in an impressive last bite.
Reese knew that tone, and she knew that Stan knew that he was remembering correctly.
It was impossible to rise to his level of success without a decent bullshit detector.
Reese was starting to get the sense that maybe Stan still had some questions about the pending nuptials and his upcoming union with the Devereux family.
There was a decent chance that Tripp was playing checkers while Stan was playing chess.
God, she hoped so.
“We finalized it in the middle of last year, but the plans were well underway already,” Tripp deflected. “With our mid-Atlantic expansion goal, it made sense to have someone of Grant’s caliber leading our existing operations, keeping the ship on course while I focus on the future of the business.”
“I thought you’d mentioned working on the expansion, Grant?” Brynn asked from her seat next to him.
Instead of answering immediately, Grant cut forcefully into his yellowfin tuna steak, practically mashing it into pieces. “I’m helping out wherever I can be of assistance.”
Reese had never loved an awkward silence so much.
Stan, still intent on being a good host, stepped in. “And Reese, when we met last, your father had mentioned you wanted to chart your own path. Never considered going into the family business?”
She could feel her father’s eyes boring into her.
Telling Stan that she could have had a role at The Devereux Group if she wanted to be her brother’s assistant would likely cause Tripp to flip a table, which is why she did consider saying it, however briefly.
“I saw a need that wasn’t being met in the boutique hotel and inn space, and I felt like I could do something positive. So I did,” she finished with a minimizing shrug.
“Reese is being modest,” Sydney chimed in next to her, taking her hand on top of the table. “She grew her company into the most successful hotel management software for small businesses in the market. It’s no wonder Checked was made an offer they couldn’t refuse.”
Reese’s eyebrow lifted as she turned toward Sydney in surprise. She wasn’t aware that her fake girlfriend had done additional research into her company.
But the true story, the one that would never appear online, painted the acquisition in a much dimmer light.
Reese worked to not let it cloud her mood—at least, anymore than it already was.
Stan nodded emphatically. “You obviously love the hotel space, given the company you started, but you’re a free agent now? No plans to join the family business?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her father stiffen.
“No, not at the moment,” she said diplomatically, mostly to keep the peace during what was becoming a decently enjoyable lunch. After all, her fingers were still entangled with Sydney’s.
Stan slapped his hand down on the table.
“I can’t believe it. Tripp, you’re going to let her get away?
You’re a veritable gold mine of information and talent, Reese.
The whole package. Business knowledge. Technical prowess.
Persistence,” he said, looking at her with true appreciation for what she’d accomplished.
The praise felt good, and she allowed that feeling to percolate for a few seconds, at least until her father joined back in.
“Well, we were trying to keep things close to the vest, but there have been conversations. Now that Reese is open to new roles, it may make sense for her to join us at The Devereux Group.”
Tripp nodded solemnly in her direction, like he was giving her the opportunity of a lifetime. Like perhaps now she was ready to ascend to a meaningful role that he’d finally deemed appropriate for her.
Reese blanched.
Sydney choked on her water.
Grant’s jaw went slack.
She didn’t have the energy to look at anyone else; loathing caused bile to rise in the back of her throat.
In this moment, more than her father’s rejection had ever hurt, his ability to so easily use her as a pawn was somehow worse.
And it was that feeling that propelled her forward as she said, “Actually, in the spirit of charting my own path ,” she said, parroting his tone, “I purchased The Stone’s Throw Inn in Stoneport recently.
It’s my first acquisition, and I’m spending some time getting my bearings before considering any additional growth. ”
Her father’s face twisted into an ugly snarl, which Reese caught clearly before he could wipe the traces of it away. It was poorly executed, though, as what he’d managed to morph his features into made him look like he was having stomach issues.
Good.
“And we’re so thrilled for her,” Sydney said to likely cut off any surprised outbursts from the rest of the Devereux family. “She’s really an incredible woman.”
“That she is,” Stan said, raising his glass up to hers in cheers.
Reese met Sydney’s stare, a radiant smile smoothing all the rough edges of her thoughts.
She pretended that her girlfriend was her biggest advocate, working in tandem with her instead of in opposition, and that Stan’s praise canceled out her own dismissal of her father—not that she should need anyone’s ‘atta boy’ to feel good about what she’d accomplished.
“I’m so proud of you, honey,” her mom said in spite of the glower her father leveled at his wife’s response.
For a second, the scraping silverware was the only sound at their table as the moment wound down from its crescendo.
Her purchase of The Stone’s Throw was bound to come out sooner or later, and if it had an adverse impact on her father’s well-being, then who was she to deny herself the pleasure?
“Reese?” Sydney asked, pulling her attention. “Since we’re done with lunch, did you want to grab a shower before we head to the dress fitting?”
There Sydney was again saving her again, this time from what could become a prolonged, unbearable silence.
She stood up from the table but made sure to bend down and give Sydney a kiss on the cheek. “Great idea. Don’t know what I’d do without you, babe,” she said, wondering how much truth was baked into those words.
“Thank you for inviting us to lunch,” she said, looking at Margie and then Stan.
Sydney grabbed her hand. “We should be wrapping up here by the time you’re ready. I’ll text you and we can meet at the car?”
Reese nodded. “Perfect. ”
And with that, Reese left the table and, in the process, left varying degrees of confusion, shock, excitement, and anger written across the faces of everyone present.
The cat was out of the bag, but she had a feeling the impact of her revelation was only just beginning.