Man in Love Page 9

  “What do you mean, where’s Kendra?” I panicked suddenly. Was she coming to dinner? This was the first I was hearing about it. Fuck, I’d underestimated how badly tonight could go.

  “You didn’t invite her,” she said accusingly, and relief flooded over me despite the lecture I already knew was coming. “She’s going to be part of the family, Scott. From here on, she should be here when you are. She should be here when you aren’t. Now. Tell me. Should we do black tie or semiformal? I can’t decide.”

  So we were going to get right into it. That was fine. Probably. I didn’t have to worry about buttering them up with small talk first, though maybe that put me at a disadvantage.

  Either way, the path had been laid. “I’ll make it easy, Mom—the wedding’s off.”

  “What? Kendra broke it off?” Mom didn’t wait for an answer before twisting toward my father. “I knew she was wishy-washy, Henry. When it took her three months to give us an answer, that should have been our first clue.” She turned back to me. “Never fear, honey. I already have Shelby Ford as a backup. She was actually my first choice, but your father insisted that the Montgomerys’ philanthropic efforts brought more to the Sebastian image.”

  “She’s an heir to the automotive industry, Margo. The environmentalists will have a field day.” His eyes never left his gun.

  “You agreed she would be the alternate.”

  Dad peered up, ready to challenge her. Then seeming to remember that he’d made that deal in earnest, he threw his hand in the air. “Bah.” He returned his attention to his firearm. “She better return that ring.”

  “She’ll return the ring,” my mother assured him. “Did she say she wanted to keep it?” This was directed back to me.

  “Uh.” I paused, suddenly wishing I’d brought the scotch. The two always bickered, but normally it was all-out war. Tonight the arguing was less intense. More like they were a united front despite any surface disagreement.

  Two against one. That didn’t bode well for me.

  “Spit it out, Scott. Do we need to call Rudy?” Dad loved to threaten getting his lawyer involved.

  Brave the fuck up. “She hasn’t said anything. She isn’t the one breaking this off. You can talk to her directly about the ring, but I don’t think it will be an issue.”

  For the first time since I’d come in the room, my father truly looked at me. “What do you mean she isn’t the one breaking this off?”

  My mother whipped off her reading glasses. “Did you discover a skeleton in her closet? I knew the Montgomerys weren’t as rosy as they appear to be. See, Henry?”

  “I thought we’d run a thorough background check.”

  We had been me. Or my people. Everyone SIC intended to work with had a background check. Always about protecting our image. So if there had been a skeleton, it made sense to assume it was me who’d found it.

  I briefly considered using that as an excuse. But that would only buy me so much time, so I braved the fuck up. “No skeletons. Nothing wrong with Kendra or the Montgomerys. It’s me. I’m breaking it off.”

  “What’s wrong with you then?” Dad asked, adopting his critical voice, the one that he used to bully someone into compliance.

  “Nothing’s wrong with me.” Except that I’d been stupid enough to agree to this idea in the first place. “I’ve just changed my mind.”

  He pressed on. “You’re realizing you aren’t ready to take over R&D, aren’t you? Of course you’re not, but you’ll be fine. Baptism by fire. You’ll have help. We won’t leave you to fuck it up on your own.”

  “No, that’s not…” The better choice would be to let his words roll off my back, but I couldn’t help myself. “I’m more than ready to take over R&D, thank you very much. Compared to McAllister? He’s got his head stuck in his ass, and his ass is stuck back in 1989. I’d bring us the innovation SIC needs, and you want to worry about your image so much, that’s where it needs improvement, Dad. Stop running the company like it’s a dinosaur.”

  “So then, what’s the problem? You’ll marry the girl, you’ll get the job, you’ll change the company.” He pointed the gun in my direction, which I was sure was unloaded but still felt a bit jarring.

  I stared at the weapon, unsure it was the wisest idea to argue with a man holding a revolver, loaded or not. “Well, you should give me the job because I will change the company, but no. I’m not marrying the girl.”

  Thankfully, he lowered his gun to the desk. “You agreed—”

  “I did,” I said, cutting him off, fearing his tone as much as the gun. “And now I’m disagreeing. I changed my mind. I’m not ready to be married.” At least, I wasn’t ready to be married to her.

  My mother, who’d been studying me, narrowed her eyes. “Is this about that ethnic girl?”

  “God, Mom, you’re horrible,” I said, flinching, strangely thankful to use my disgust with her prejudice as a method of deflection.

  “Indian,” Dad said, as though the lack of specificity was where the issue lay.

  “Iranian,” I corrected. “Half-Iranian. Not that it fucking matters, and no.” Well, yes. “This is about me realizing I don’t want to have anything to do with an arranged marriage.”

  “Ah, that’s where she gets her nice skin,” my mother mused. “Persian women have the prettiest olive tone.”

  “You can still fuck around, Scott.” My father didn’t even look at his wife as he granted me permission to commit adultery. “You’re worried about losing out on all the pussy, and I’m telling you, it’s not an issue. In fact, you’d be surprised how many women are turned on by a gold band.”

  “Ew, Dad.” I glanced at Mom, who was staring my father down with hate in her eyes.

  Okay, so her mood was probably now a three at best. Not that I could blame her. I had to speed this up. “Look, I know what sorts of arrangements are possible in a relationship, and that’s cool if that’s what you’re into, but I’ve decided that’s not the sort of marriage I’m interested in. Okay? Not a big deal. I’ll wait to get hitched. Good thing we got this all sorted out before an official announcement was made. I’ll take care of covering any leaks that might have gotten out from the party on Saturday, call it a misunderstanding. Might even be able to use it to cover up that harassment lawsuit we have going on in the Ohio plant. Everything works out. We good? Good. See you at dinner.”

  There, it was done and said, and now I was getting the fuck out of there.

  I’d just turned around when my father stopped me. “Hold it right there, son.”

  It was the tone no one could ignore. The big boss tone. The one he used in the boardroom or when he was tearing apart some poor innocent minion.

  Slowly, I turned back around.

  “You’re not getting the transfer without a wedding ring on that finger.”

  “That’s a bad decision on your part, if you ask me, but I figured as much.” Totally as expected, but then I had to push it. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll get married sooner than you think. The old-fashioned way. You know, to someone I love.”

  He let out a sadistic laugh. “Boy’s turned into a pansy-assed romantic. This is your fault, Margo.” As if my mother were any better of an advocate for romance than he was.

  She’d checked out of the conversation, leaning on her death glare to communicate her thoughts and feelings. Fortunately, the glare was mostly aimed at my father, which was likely only going to exacerbate his anger at me.

  Obviously it was not a time to argue. “Yep. Busted. I fell far from the tree it seems. Sorry to disappoint you. Oh, that’s right. You were already disappointed. So nothing’s changed.”

  Okay, maybe I needed to work on how not to provoke an angry bear.

  Dad pointed a stern finger at me. “And don’t you dare think you’re getting that position if you marry that Turani girl.”

  “Hold up.” She wasn’t even in the room, and yet every muscle in my body went into protective mode. “You said you picked my bride, and I’d get a seat on the b
oard. You only said I had to get married to get the transfer. You didn’t say you had to approve my marriage.” Not like I was saying I was marrying Tessa, but he needed to know the option was open.

  He straightened, and though he was only an inch taller than I was, he seemed to loom. “You changed your mind, I can change my mind.”

  Stand down, stand the fuck down.

  I meant it for myself, but if he wanted to listen to my inner voice as well, that would be awesome.

  I took a steadying breath. “Fine. I’ll stay VP of image and outreach. Been dealing with your shit so long, no one knows how to cover it up better. Everything’s back to status quo. You can go back to playing with your gun.”

  I turned once more, needing to get out of the room before I socked him in the face.

  “You are not marrying that girl, Scott.”

  I whirled around. “I’m not marrying anyone right now, Dad. Stop getting your panties in a wad.”

  “Not now, not ever.”

  Walk away. Don’t be stupid, and walk away.

  “Or what?” I challenged back.

  That was my mistake. Standing up for the possibility of marrying a woman I still knew so little about. I should have walked away, should have agreed for the time being and dealt with his threats later when and if marrying Tess actually became a thing.

  But I’d had to fight about it now.

  And in doing so, I showed him my weakness. Showed him how much Tessa meant to me.

  I could tell the minute he realized, the way his features pulled together into a cold, hard expression. “New deal,” he said. “You marry Kendra Montgomery as planned. You get the position in R&D, you get the spot on the board, and I’ll even get you two a nice condo as a wedding present.”

  “And if I don’t?” Because I wasn’t. In the brief silence that followed, I prepared myself for his next inevitable threat. He’d fire me. That would be it, I guessed. Would I leave for Tessa? Sure. I was just pissed enough to do it. I was even looking forward to telling him. He’d be so shocked he’d wet his pants.

  I was ready. Bring it on.

  “If you don’t,” he said finally, “then that little women’s foundation you want SIC to sponsor? You can kiss that deal goodbye.”

  Now that, I hadn’t seen coming.

  Nine

  Tess

  Teyana stared at the lobby directory. “You’re sure he said the ninth floor?”

  “I’m sure.” She knew as well as I did. She’d been standing right there when the driver Scott had sent had dropped us off and instructed us where to go next.

  But I knew why she wanted reassurance. Because according to the directory, the Dysautonomia Center was located on the ninth floor, and though we hadn’t been told specifically to go there, it had to be where we were supposed to end up.

  A tentative excitement bubbled up inside of me as we climbed into the elevator. What on earth are you up to, Scott Sebastian?

  I pressed the nine button on the console, and as the doors closed, I hoped he’d be there to clear everything up when they opened again.

  I didn’t just want answers about the strange mission he’d sent us on this afternoon. I hadn’t really talked to him since before his meeting with his parents the night before, and I was dying to know what happened. When I’d messaged him at midnight, desperate for intel, he’d sent back a short text.

  Everything’s good. Will talk tomorrow. Sleep well, baby.

  I responded passive-aggressively, giving him a thumbs up and a sleepy face emoji. I didn’t know what else to say when his message had been an obvious dismissal, and though his tone was meant to be uplifting, it had sent me into an anxious fit that had me tossing and turning all night. Why did he want me to wait to hear more? Why had he waited until I’d nudged him to reach out at all? Why did he feel like it was necessary to say that everything was good? Was there a reason I would have thought otherwise?

  They were stupid anxieties based on nothing, but I couldn’t help the niggling feeling that there was some reason he wasn’t saying more.

  I’d finally fallen asleep around five in the morning. When I woke up a handful of hours later, I’d reached for my phone, determined to ask for some reassurance, but as soon as I’d checked the screen, I’d found another text from him.

  Clear your afternoon. You and Tey. I’m sending a driver to pick you up at 2.

  It occurred to me then that Scott wasn’t saying more because he was planning something good, not because he was avoiding telling me something bad. I’d started to have my doubts when the driver had taken us toward Kip’s Bay because what on earth was on the East Side? Now that I realized where he was sending us, I was more convinced he had a surprise up his sleeve.

  “Your man is up to something,” Tey said, voicing my exact thoughts. I could hear the hopefulness behind her words, and part of me wanted to tell her to not get too excited. Just because Scott had sent us to a premier dysautonomia clinic, not just in Manhattan but in the whole country, it didn’t mean that he’d somehow gotten her an appointment. There could be a dozen other reasons why he wanted us to meet him there.

  Not that I could think of any of them at the moment.

  “I’m just glad I had the time off so I could do this with you.” Kendra called it time off after I’d put in so much extra work while she’d been gone, but I knew it was really about giving us both space, which was fine by me. It was understandable that she needed to sort through her feelings about my betrayal without me around. I had my own feelings of betrayal to deal with, feelings that I’d buried for a long time while she’d made sure to keep me on the sidelines. Though I’d been disloyal by going behind her back, I was more and more convinced it had not only been the right thing to do, but also the only thing I could do if I had any hope of one day breaking free of her hold and having my own meaningful career. An impromptu vacation gave me time to put those feelings in perspective.

  Best part, it was paid time off.

  “You fucking deserve it,” Teyana said, not for the first time, as the doors opened on our floor.

  All thoughts of Kendra were abandoned as I scanned the area for Scott, not finding him anywhere.

  “He’s probably waiting for us in the clinic.” Tey had forgotten her cane, but I had a feeling the reason she grabbed onto me was as much about her nervous anticipation as it was about her POTS. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  There were only a few other offices on the ninth floor besides the clinic, so it only took us a minute to find the correct suite. I pushed open the heavy wood door and scanned the waiting room, seeing a couple with a teenage daughter, an elderly gentleman snoozing by himself, a camera crew filming a man in a lab coat speaking with a woman in a wheelchair (NYC, man—there was always something), and finally, standing in front of the reception desk with his eyes trained on me, Scott.

  A smile broke across his face. “That’s her,” he said to the receptionist, then strode over to us.

  With the way he looked at me as he approached, I thought he would pull me in his arms, but he stopped suddenly when he got to us and put his hands on his hips, a curious awkwardness settling between us.

  “Hi.” His eyes flicked from mine to my lips, and I could feel him thinking the same thing I was. Do we kiss, do we…what?

  Whatever we were supposed to do, I couldn’t stop grinning. “Hi.”

  I was suddenly worried about how I looked. Was I having a good hair day? Did my lip gloss need refreshening? Why hadn’t I worn something more flattering?

  The way Scott looked at me, though, I got the feeling my appearance was just fine. He looked at me like a man who’d seen me naked. Like a man who wanted to see me naked again. Like a man who wanted to look at me period.

  Teyana, who’d been standing patiently to the side like a third wheel while Scott and I ogled each other, cleared her throat.

  His gaze shifted toward her, and his posture changed, as though he’d just remembered she was there. “Teyana, thanks for coming out on s
uch short notice. I’m sure you’re wondering what this is all about. How are you feeling, anyway?”

  She started to nod, then shook her head. “That can wait. Let’s address this first.” She moved a finger rapidly in the air between me and Scott. “She likes you.”

  “I...like her too,” he said, and my heart did a little flip.

  “You’d better not hurt her.”

  “I have no intention of doing any such thing.”

  “Uh-uh. Not good enough.” She stood to her full height, and though that was still several inches shorter than Scott, she gave the effect of looking down on him. “You’ve got to actively not hurt her. You get me?”

  I wanted to die.

  Scott hesitated, and who wouldn’t? Whatever he had planned for today, he certainly hadn’t expected a full-on interrogation.

  Of course, after all the shit I’d had to go through with him and Kendra, a few moments of unease wouldn’t kill the man.

  After a brief pause, he pinned his eyes on me and raised his hand as if taking an oath. “I solemnly swear to do everything in my power to actively not hurt Terese Turani, so help me God.”

  Tey considered. “Okay. I’ll buy it. But I’m watching you.” She relaxed her posture. “Now, let’s talk about me. I’m feeling tired after being trekked across the city but better than I did a couple of days ago. I’m guessing you didn’t bring me out here just to let me know this clinic exists.”

  He chuckled. “No. I would never attempt to educate you on any aspect of your condition. I am, however, a man with certain connections, and full disclosure—this is as much about working to actively not hurt Tess as it is about you. I know she cares deeply about you and wants you to have every advantage you can, so I’ve gotten you an appointment with Dr. Steenburgen.”

  I gasped. Dr. Steenburgen was a world-renowned dysautonomia specialist. Even when dreaming of who Tey could maybe see one day, he wasn’t on the list. “I didn’t think he took new patients anymore.”