CHAPTER 55
Victoria
My feet feel like they’re encased in cement as I trudge off toward the helicopter. This whole experience has been a clusterfuck of epic proportions.
Cal is angry and hurt. He looked lost as I walked past him on the porch.
But nothing can be done about it now. A clean cut is best since my life will be very messy in the near future.
I won’t have time to sort out the tangled web I leave behind, or hold our mistakes up to the light, or unpack the layers of what did and did not happen between the two of us.
And anyway, why should I try to repair something that was probably doomed from the start?
Then there’s my father…
He’s gone off the rails. I hear the icy rage in his voice as he talks with the pilot.
That rage is because of me, not our innocent employee.
But what’s really got him hacked off is that his dirty backroom deals didn’t get him everything he wanted.
He was outsmarted by a man he assumed was just a simple Nevada rancher. It’s sent him into a blind fury.
Just wait till he sees what’s coming next.
I was proud of Jamie in there. Within seconds of stepping inside, I knew he’d heard everything I’d shouted at him while the helicopter landed.
I saw how Jamie remained unmoved as my father complained and cajoled and revised his terms. Jamie smiled politely, keeping the conversation brief, and then showed my father the door.
I hugged Phyllis goodbye. Then I hugged Jamie, slipping him the handwritten note before I pulled away.
“Please give this to Evander,” I’d whispered.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cal approach with my bags. Instead of bringing them to me where I stand at the helicopter passenger door, Cal ducks, opens the cargo hold, and throws the bags inside. Only then does he approach me.
In his hands are my bag, my sunglasses, my phone, and the bracelets and earrings I’d accidentally left in the bathroom in my rush to put this whole mistake behind me. He dumps it all into my open palms.
“Thank you, Cal.”
Our eyes lock. It’s too much. Am I really going to let this be the last time I look into those intense violet eyes shaded by black lashes? I should throw myself into his arms. I need to tell him I love him and demand that we find a way to work it out.
What did Phyllis say? “Don’t let him push you away…”
My father has finished misdirecting his anger at the pilot and shoves past me to board the helicopter. Cal observes this with disbelief. I think he’s about a millisecond away from jumping in there and beating my father to a pulp.
Not that he doesn’t deserve it.
“Hurry up, Victoria! Haven’t you wasted enough of my time?”
“Goodbye, Cal.”
I turn to step up into the cabin and he’s suddenly by my side, supporting my elbow, making sure I’m safely on board.
Then he’s gone.
It’s a long and chilly trip back to San Diego. My father is on his phone most of the time, barking orders and preparing the Renaissance lawyers to go to battle with Jamie. I ignore him. I have my own battle plans to finalize.
Millicent and I are texting back and forth for most of the ride. She’s updating me on my many requests. She’s found the documents I requested on the Mercado deal, the West Cliff acquisition, and that complete shit show from last year, the Salcedo Hills buyout.
Me: How about Sulfur Springs?
Millicent: Got it all. Who’s Arlo Westervelt?
Me: Tell you soon.
Millicent: You’re scheduled to meet with outside legal counsel tomorrow morning. I think your suspicions were spot on.
Me: Not happy to hear that. But not surprised.
Millicent: What’s your ETA? Should I meet you in your office?
Me: No. The condo. We’ll work there to avoid prying eyes. My guess is two hours.
Millicent: Are you OK, Victoria?
Me: LOL. Nope. I’m a hot mess inside a dumpster fire. It’s bad.
Millicent: I’m sorry. What should I bring with me to your place?
Me: Ice cream. Double fudge brownie.
Millicent: Oh, shit.
I laugh. My father glares at me. I slip my phone into my bag and wait for his opening shot. And here it comes…
“I am so immensely disappointed in you.”
“I imagine you are.”
He taps his headset and tips his head toward the pilot. “We’ll continue this discussion in my office.”
“Sounds perfect.”
It sounds far from perfect, but I’m glad for the reprieve. It gives me time to pull myself together.
Because I feel hollowed out, empty. I feel lost without Cal. I already miss the ranch. And I realize I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to Jasmine. Or Summer. Or Phoebe. Or all the brothers.
I turn my face to the window and force myself to stop the tears before they start. Because once they do, I’m afraid they may never stop.
We land on the rooftop of Renaissance Empowered. The pilot says he’ll get my bags to my car and have someone drive it from the parking garage for me. I thank him and quietly apologize for my father’s bad behavior.
“I’m used to it,” he says.
Within minutes, we’re in my father’s office. He flips on the lights and retreats behind his giant desk. Maybe he feels protected there, more powerful than he really is.
It’s sunset, and his office has an uninterrupted view of the bay and the Pacific Ocean beyond. We’re surrounded by very expensive modern furniture, Persian rugs, sculptures, and paintings worth a fortune.
“Have a seat, Victoria.” He gestures to one of the leather-and-chrome armchairs near his desk.
“I’d prefer to stand. I have a feeling this won’t take long.”
He laughs. It’s an ugly sound. It strikes me how when I was little, I thought my father was the kindest and most handsome man in the world. He was a prince in my eyes. He could do no wrong.
Of course, many little girls feel that way about their father. As we grow up, the shiny image fades. But it hits me with sadness that Nigel Backlund really was a better person back then. The money, land, and trappings of great wealth have sucked any goodness from him and left just malice and greed.
“We don’t run a charity here,” he hisses.
“Your do-gooder routine didn’t stop the Sulfur Springs deal, and in fact, all you did was make it harder on the mouth-breather MacLaines.
I’ll still get what I want. Those dime store GI Joes won’t be able to stop me.
Not even the one you dropped your knickers for. ”
I stay silent, though my throat burns with loathing for him. He wants me to respond, and it bothers him that I haven’t. I see something in his eyes. He’s preparing his next punch.
“I thought you learned that lesson with Greg—you know, never ruin business with pleasure.”
Of course he throws that in. He never misses an opportunity.
Greg was an analyst who reported directly to my father. When our year-long relationship soured, the deal we’d worked on together went south. Father blamed me but had to fire Greg to save face. He’s never forgiven me.
Greg was his boy wonder, the son he never had. I was just his daughter.
“Do you know why I sent you to Nevada, Victoria?”
I stay silent.
“I sent you there to be a decoy. You were meant to be a pretty little distraction in your tight business suits and high heels.”
My legs feel weak. My stomach turns. I grab the edge of his desk to stay standing.
“What did you just say?”