32. Daisy #2
“What is wrong with you?” I demand. “I understand this is disappointing, and I know you put your faith in me, but I’ve been doing the job well even though I hate it.
I can admit that I was short-sighted before.
I was confused and hurt, and my thoughts were all spun around.
But my head’s on straight now. I know what I want. ”
Charlie clenches her jaw and returns to her laptop. “I’m going to have to think about it,” she says, refusing to look at me. And that’s not good enough.
“Why?” I push.
Her head jerks up. “What do you mean, why? For all the reasons I gave you. Because I’m Silver Leaf CEO.”
“Let’s put it to a vote,” I say.
“No. This is a management decision, not a family one.”
“I disagree. Let’s vote on it. This morning. Right now.”
“You’d put this to a vote with Beau at the table when there’s a chance everyone will vote no?”
“They won’t say no.”
She scoffs. “You’re awfully confident.”
“I talked to Chord about it, and he agreed my plan has merit.”
Charlie’s blue eyes grow cold, and her face pales. “You already spoke to Chord?”
I realize my mistake too late. “I mentioned it when I was convincing the boys to give Beau a break. It was right after family game night.”
Her throat bobs. “You’ve been plotting against me for weeks?”
“Plotting? No! I wanted his opinion.”
“Because now he’s not playing hockey, and he’s on the ranch permanently, our big brother’s opinion is more important than mine? What he says goes, and I have to deal with it?”
Charlie’s lashes flutter uncomfortably, and if I didn’t know her better, I’d think she was about to cry. My sister doesn’t cry.
“No!” I tell her. “I knew you’d be disappointed, and we’d end up arguing. I wanted someone to back me up.”
“You knew I’d hold you accountable for your decisions? That I’d expect you to honor your agreement? That I would tell you to do what you promised me you would do?”
I throw up my hands. “Oh, my God, Charlotte! I’m not giving up! I’m pitching an alternative.”
“Where’s the pitch?” She looks around theatrically. “Where are the numbers? Where are the projections? Where’s the business plan?”
I scowl. “I’m still working on it.”
“Fine. And when you have it, we can talk about it.”
“This can’t wait. Beau’s been offered a competitive opportunity at Emberfield, and I can’t ask him to turn it down if there isn’t something equally great for him here.”
Charlie stares at me, her blue eyes cool. “When are you going to grow up?”
I don’t realize how quiet the house has become until Beau walks into the room. Ollie’s at his side, the boy’s small hand swamped by Beau’s fingers wrapped around it.
“Hey, Darlin’.” He tips his hat at my sister. “Charlie. Thanks for breakfast and all, but it’s time the two of us got going.”
I jump up, guilt and embarrassment flushing fast and hot to my hairline. “But we just got here.”
“I think we’ve stayed long enough.” Beau tugs on Ollie’s arm. “Say thank you to Charlie for having us.”
Ollie looks a little stunned. “Thank you, Charlie,” he says quietly.
“You’re welcome,” Charlie answers, following me to her feet, albeit it at a much slower speed. “Beau. This isn’t about you.”
“It’s fine.” His dark eyes are guarded but polite, and I don’t know why, but it breaks my heart. “You don’t need to explain.”
A knock sounds at the front door. Charlie hesitates, then hurries from the room to answer it.
I take a step toward Beau. “I’m sorry you heard that.”
“It’s fine,” he says shortly. “We can talk about it later.”
“Hello,” Charlie says in the hallway. “Can I help you?”
The voice that answers is gruff and masculine, but too low to make out.
“All right,” Charlie replies uncertainly. “Uh, come in.”
She returns to the living room with a line between her brows, and she turns to Beau. “There’s a gentleman here by the name of Wayne Covington. He says he’s your father?”
Beau’s head jerks up, and without thinking, I take a step toward him as an older man walks into the room. He’s not as tall as Beau, but he’s solid like him, and though his dark hair is gray and his face is lined, the resemblance is clear.
“Grandpa?” Ollie asks, confused. He takes a hesitant step forward, but Beau holds tight to his nephew’s hand and keeps him hard by his side.
“What are you doing here?” Beau asks flatly.
Wayne smirks a little, and I dislike him instantly.
“Came to see my grandson,” he says. “No law against it, is there?” He glances at Ollie, standing as tall as he can in his boots and his Stetson, and snorts quietly. “Nice hat.”
Ollie gazes up at Beau uncertainly. “Uncle Beau?”
Beau glares at his father for a second longer, then crouches down to Ollie’s eye level. “Go into the kitchen with Daisy and finish your breakfast. I need to talk to Grandpa for a few minutes. Okay?”
Ollie nods, and a silent look passes between me and Beau as he gives me Ollie’s hand. I take it, but something about this feels wrong. I’ve never seen Beau so cold or so tightly controlled, and the tension is on another level. My heart has never beat so erratically.
Beau strides across the room and out into the hall, refusing to acknowledge his father as he storms past the older man. Wayne huffs under his breath as he follows.
Charlie and I share our mutual concern in one fleeting look, our earlier argument completely forgotten.
“Can you take care of Ollie for me?” I ask. “I’m going to…”
I glance down at Beau’s nephew, who seems a lot younger, smaller, and more vulnerable than he has these last couple of months. “I’m going to make sure everything’s all right.”
“Sure.” Charlie takes Ollie’s other hand, but her mouth is tight, and I know she doesn’t want to let me leave. I nod my thanks and rush outside.
Beau and his dad have moved down the drive toward an old truck that must belong to Wayne.
“How did you know where we were?” Beau asks him as I approach.
“Sarah called,” Wayne says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Told us where to find you.”
“So she’s received my messages.” Beau barks a short laugh. “She could’ve replied once or twice.”
Wayne lifts one dismissive shoulder. “She’s busy, I guess.”
“Too busy to make sure her son is well?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Wayne says. “To check on the kid. See if he’d be better off with me and your mother.”
Beau’s hands ball into fists. “Like hell you are.”
I set a soothing hand on his arm. “Beau? Would you introduce me, please?”
Wayne’s eyes slide over my body, and I wish they’d slide off again. They’re so much like Beau’s, the shape and the color, which makes the way he leers more disgusting.
Beau narrows his eyes at his father. “Daisy—this is Wayne. Dad, this is my girlfriend, Daisy.”
Wayne doesn’t try to hide the way he looks me up and down. He appears to take pleasure in being a lech. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?”
Sour disgust rises in my throat, and with one small step, Beau positions himself between me and his father.
“You can’t have Ollie,” Beau says. “He likes it here, and you can tell Sarah I said so. Better yet, you can tell her to call sometime and find out for herself.”
Wayne grins and shakes his head, but his eyes are angry. “What makes you think you’ve got more of a right to that boy than I do?”
“A signed childcare agreement,” Beau replies.
Beau’s father blinks. “A what?”
“You heard me. Sarah signed power of attorney to me, which means Ollie stays here.”
Beau’s fingers brush mine, and I realize he’s searching for my hand. I slip my fingers into his, and he squeezes tight.
Wayne notices and cocks his head. “Seems like maybe that agreement isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.”
“You want to call the cops and find out?” Beau challenges. The pulse in his wrist races, and I brush my thumb along it in silent support.
The older man hesitates, then scoffs. “I don’t need the hassle of a boy to take care of.
” He spits onto the ground. “I’ve raised my kids.
Got no desire to go through that shit again, and for what?
No thank-yous? No respect? Just grown kids who up and leave when they can finally help put food on the table.
Cover the cost of gas.” He squints at Beau.
“Help pay their mother’s medical bills.”
Beau’s jaw clenches. “Mom’s sick?”
“In a way.” Wayne scrutinizes his son’s face. “She’s got an addiction, you know. And that’s a sickness.”
“Yeah.” Beau holds my hand tighter. “I know.”