CHAPTER THIRTY
Callahan
Eleven Months Ago
The sailboat rocks gently back and forth as I stare out at the horizon, miles upon miles of blue water before us.
I could say the briny scent in my nose and the sun on my face is enough to wash away the bullshit from earlier—but it’d be a lie.
A total fucking lie.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask as I walk into the conference room to find Ford sitting in a chair and Ledger standing with his back against the glass and his arms crossed over his chest.
Fuck. They know.
“Dad is irrelevant at this point,” Ledger grits out, steel in his jaw and ice in his voice.
“It’s his company and therefore he should be here for—”
“For what?” Ledger asks, voice rising with each syllable. “He can’t protect you from this, Cal.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Don’t play the bullshit innocent routine. Sharpe International is the fucking laughing stock right now because you signed a deal to buy a resort so you could fuck the owner’s daughter.”
What the fuck?
“Everybody knows, Cal. Thanks to your bathroom proposition, you selling us out to get some prized pussy is the talk of the fucking town.”
I glance over to my father. He has a soft smile on his lips, a glass of scotch in his hand, and I wonder if I were able to see his eyes behind his sunglasses, what they would tell me. Is he present? Has his mind escaped him again? Does he even remember what happened earlier today?
For his sake, I hope he doesn’t.
“I didn’t sleep with her,” I say, meeting both of their eyes.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ledger bellows. “Don’t forget that we know you.”
“Dad can explain everything. He wants the resort as a tribute to Mom. It was his promise to her to buy a piece of land there one day. How—”
“And last night he told me he’d spent his entire thirties in Ibiza. We all know that’s not true because he was here raising us,” Ledger says, his eyes narrowed and mistrusting.
“He should be here,” I shout, hand slapping against the table. I refuse to believe he didn’t have a moment of clarity. I refuse to believe that the one moment of lucidity was the disease fucking tricking me once again. I refuse to accept that I believed it.
“He’s at home, Callahan,” Ford says. “He’s being relieved of his active duties in the company.”
“What?” I practically scream, my tongue suddenly thick in my mouth.
“It’s best for everyone right now,” Ledger says softly.
Panic shudders through me. “That will kill him. Not being here. Not being a part of the company and—”
“So which is it, Cal?” Ledger pushes off the wall and walks toward me. “The signing of the deal. Because if it was Dad’s doing, he’s more harm to us than good right now, but if it was your doing . . . then he can stay at the helm a little longer.”
“You okay, Callahan?” my dad asks, pulling my attention to the here and now instead of thoughts of earlier.
“Yes. Just a lot on my mind.” I glance over my shoulder to where the captain says something to a crew member about the jib, and then back to my dad.
“Your brothers will get over it. They always do.”
I nod, draw in a deep breath, and lie. “I’m sure they will.”
“We’re Sharpes.” He chuckles. “We fight hard, but we love deeper.”
“I know, Dad.” I reach out and pat his hand. “I know.”
“Do you see that spot over there?” he asks me, raising his hand with his glass in it toward the shores of Long Island.
“What about it?” His brows furrow behind his glasses, and I can visibly see the confusion take over his expression. “Dad?”
“Just beyond the reef, there.”
I glance at my dad and then back to the shoreline that clearly doesn’t have a reef—we’re nowhere near one. I struggle with whether to tell him that or let him keep talking. The last thing I want to do is upset him when he’s in the one place he loves more than the office.
“Yes, I see it,” I lie.
“Maybe one day you’ll fall in love and bring her to this place too, Callahan. Your mother would love that.”
I offer a reassuring smile and then shake my head. “I can’t imagine that happening any time soon, Dad.” There are too many places I still want to go. Things to do. Anything other than being in that office for hours on end. “Especially when I’m stuck in the office—”
“You’re not stuck there. You have the privilege of being there.” His sigh is soft and content. “The only days I feel like myself are when I’m sitting in that office, seeing all I’ve built. Other days, I can’t remember a thing. But that office, that place, you boys, keep me sane.”
That place keeps him sane.
And that right there? That’s why I just nodded as Ledger and Ford got years of resentment out in our fight earlier. That’s why I took the blame over the deal so that my father could still sit at the helm and hold on to whatever scraps of sanity he has left.
I’ve done a lot of wrong that he’s forgiven me for.
It’s the least I can do now to make sure he gets to hold tight a little longer to his joy, even if it means enduring disapproval from my brothers.
Even if we never recover.
“You’re right, Dad. It is a privilege.” I blink the tears away that well in my eyes, needing to hold on to this moment with him despite his mind clearly being in a different place. “Tell me more about your time here with Mom.”