Chapter Twenty-Three
Laurie
“Wait, Laurie,” Rip said as we walked down the hallway toward my father’s office.
It was late, but it was a weeknight, so I knew he’d still be at work in some capacity or another. He no longer limited himself like he had when Mel, Bryan, and I were little, always making time for his kids.
“What is it?” I asked, glancing at him, only to see his green-blue eyes fixed firmly on the thick wooden double doors marked by a simple sign that read “Mark Stiller.”
Was he nervous? He wouldn’t be the first person who had been unnerved about meeting my father, but that was usually because they knew who he was. Rip had confessed to not knowing my family—and boy, wasn’t that a relief!—so I wasn’t sure why he would care.
“Are you sure I should go in there?” he rumbled. “I don’t want to become the focus of the conversation. Maybe you should talk to him yourself?”
I smiled. “Are you scared to meet my dad?”
Rip jerked like he’d been stung. “No, of course not,” he said, waving that away. “I just … he’s going to ask questions. Questions that maybe we don’t want to answer yet.”
His eyes fell to my stomach. I touched it reflexively as I thought about Rip’s point. It was true. My father, besides being rather inquisitive, was a smart man. I was in no way showing my pregnancy yet, not for some time to come, I was sure, but would that matter? My father was observant.
“No,” I said, going against that initial gut feeling. “They were after me, and you intervened. What I do in my personal life is my business. He’ll respect that.”
I hope.
“All right,” Rip said without argument, resuming walking.
I knocked on the door before entering.
“Come on in,” a jovial voice called.
I pushed open the right side and walked in. Mark Stiller came around from his desk and was halfway through wrapping me up in a hug when he noticed I wasn’t alone.
“Dad, this is Rip. Rip, my father.”
I stepped aside as my father sized Rip up. He was no physical match for him. Besides being about forty years older than Rip, he also surrendered over half a foot of height and a lot of muscle to him.
But that wasn’t what it was about. The two men were taking note of each other and deciding if they were good people. Like dogs circling warily, waiting to sniff butts. Yes, men and dogs were more alike than they wanted to admit.
“Call me Mark,” my father said, abruptly shooting out his hand in greeting.
“Rip,” came the rumbled reply.
Hands met. Butts were sniffed. Crisis averted.
My father looked back at me. “I can’t imagine you’re bringing a new boy by this late at night just to introduce him to me. You’re not sixteen anymore.”
“Dad,” I exclaimed, shaking my head and fighting a blush.
He just chuckled. “Okay, come in, close the door. What is it?”
“Serious,” I said, getting myself under control.
The jovial attitude disappeared behind a mask of calm comportment. My father was gone, and the head of ArmDef was in his place. “How serious?”
“Some men tried to, most likely, kidnap me tonight,” I said.
My father went still as the room froze over.
“They what?” he asked in a similarly frigid tone.
“It was Eric,” I said, fishing the wallet I’d stolen from my purse. “They were with him. Said I owed him money, and he was going to get it.”
“What happened?” my father asked, glancing at Rip.
“Rip and I were at dinner when he noticed two men paying too much attention to us. We left, and they followed, then accosted us in the parking it, along with two others waiting outside. They were armed. Eric appeared behind them and said I would pay him the money he would have gotten from our marriage. Said I owed it to him.”
“Then what?”
“I showed them the error of their ways,” Rip said as I struggled to find the right words to explain what had happened.
Which, considering I didn’t know what had happened, was hard to do.
I’d closed my eyes and dropped to the cold ground, thankfully still devoid of snow, and when I’d looked up a moment later, Rip was tossing the last of the unconscious men into a heap nearby.
I’d barely heard him move. The only sounds I could remember were bones breaking and cries of pain.
My father gave Rip a level eye, and I could see him reappraising his initial evaluation of the big man.
“Thank you,” he said at last, shaking Rip’s hand again. “For protecting my daughter.”
Rip only nodded.
“I don’t know who the men were with Eric,” I said, breaking the silence, “but I don’t think they worked for him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw it, too,” Rip said. “There was an odd interplay between Eric and one of the others when we didn’t do as they wanted. I’m not sure what it meant, but I don’t think Eric had as much control over them as he was trying to make it look.”
“Here,” I said, handing over the wallet. “I took this off them. Maybe you can track down who they are. We need to be careful. They might not stop with me.”
“Why do you say that?”
I sighed. “I talked to Mel. Apparently, Eric tried to talk her into making me get back together with him. When that didn’t work, he suggested they should be together.”
My father’s face went, if anything, even more still. I shivered. I didn’t like that side of him. The ruthless businessman.
“He’s not taking the breakup very well at all,” my father said, finally softening.
“He’s obsessed with the money he claims I owe him. Stressing over it.”
My dad glanced at Rip again. “And this guy? Is he a problem?”
“No, no, he’s not. But that guy,” I said, shaking my head at the blunt question, “is my issue to deal with. Not yours. He’s only here because I asked him to come along.”
“Who is he, though?”
I laughed, moving across the office to wrap my father in a hug, relishing the gentle giant squeeze I got in return.
“I love you,” I said into his ear. “But there are some things a girl just doesn’t want to discuss with her father yet. Understood?”
My dad chuckled. “I understand your reluctance. But given what’s happening with the last guy you dated, can you forgive me for not immediately accepting he’s a good guy? No offense,” he said over my shoulder.
“None taken,” Rip replied. “I would do the same if I were in your position.”
My dad grunted a wordless agreement.
“Also, Dad?”
“Yes, dear?” he asked, squeezing me tight again.
“I don’t think we need to tell Mom about any of this, do you?” I said into his ear.
“No, no, you’re probably right,” he said, giving me one last squeeze before letting me go.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll put some people on your siblings and you discreetly.
A few more staff around the house that just so happen to have extra training wouldn’t be terrible either until we find out what Eric’s involved in. ”
I could almost sense Rip ready to intervene, to say it wasn’t necessary for them to tail me, but I caught his eye before he spoke and shook my head ever so slightly. Rip caught the glance, a tiny frown creasing his forehead, but he relaxed.
“Okay, time for me to go,” I said. “Long drive back to the city. Keep me informed of what you find?”
“Of course,” my dad said.
We hugged, and he shook Rip’s hand, thanking him again. Though the suspicious glint in his eye said Eric’s thugs weren’t the only people my dad would look into.
Then we were gone.
The instant the doors were closed, Rip looked down at me.
“So, I’m a problem to be dealt with, am I?” he asked nonchalantly.
I groaned, shaking my head. “I knew I was going to hear about that the instant the words came out of my mouth. That will haunt me.”
Rip just laughed, letting it go as we walked.
“So, what now?” he said eventually.
“Now …” I paused and looked out a window in passing. “Well, damn.”
“What?”
I pointed at the thick, heavy snow coming down. Neither of us had been paying attention to the weather on our way in.
“That’ll make for an interesting drive home,” Rip mused.
“I think you should stay the night,” I said. “I’d feel more comfortable not driving in that.”
“Stay?” Rip said, uncertain.
“Yes, stay here. We should talk anyway.”
“We should? About what?”
“Lots of things,” I said, glancing around to make sure no eavesdropping ears were nearby. “For starters, our thoughts on how to raise a child. Maybe some names. All sorts of relevant things. We still don’t really know one another.”
Rip nodded with each point. “No, I suppose we don’t. I’d like to fix that, though,” he rumbled throatily. “I hope you do, too.”
My throat constricted at the sudden change in his tone. I glanced up at his face, noting how it was focused so directly on me all of a sudden.
“Yeah,” I managed to whisper, my skin suddenly on fire, craving his touch. “I would like that.”
I had to wonder what sort of “getting to know one another” he had in mind, though. Then again, the way my body was reacting all of a sudden, I wasn’t so sure I cared.