Chapter Fifty-Three

Reid

I wake Sunday morning on the couch with a bottle of scotch next to me and a bitch of a hangover, the likes of which I’ve not experienced in a decade. The fact that I didn’t go to bed because Carrie was supposed to be there with me, only makes me want another drink, which I won’t take. I don’t have the luxury of being drunk, not with my father to deal with. But holy hell, when in my entire life have I wanted a woman in my bed, no, in my life? Now. That’s when. Fuck. I drag fingers through my hair and stand up, walking to the kitchen where I grab the Excedrin and down two pills with a bottle of water. I’m going to get another fucking migraine thanks to this hangover. I can feel my temples throbbing. I grab my phone from the pocket of the sweats I put on after I showered last night and check it for a message from Carrie, one I know won’t be there. I’m right. It’s not there. I can’t get to her until Monday. I know this. She’s not going to talk to me before then. She doesn’t understand my father. She doesn’t know what was in my head and I can’t even make her understand. I need out of here. I need to run. I down another bottle of water and head to my bedroom. By the time I’m there, I’m dialing Carrie instead of dressing.

She answers. She fucking answers. “Reid.”

Damn, I like my name on her lips. “Let’s meet.”

“No. And I’m going to work from here tomorrow.”

That pisses me off. “No,” I say, hardening my voice. “You are not. Because that’s not what CEOs do. And I’d say this to anyone else, too. You want to run this company, you need to step up, no matter how personal or rough it is.”

“Right. I need to step up and make your investment worthwhile.”

“Damn straight. You protect everyone’s investment. That’s what CEOs do, and the staff needs to see you there making that happen. If you want my support with the board, you come to work tomorrow. Do you understand?”

“I’ll be there.”

I lower my lashes, hating that I just had to do that, but it was for her own good. She wants this. I know she does and I’m not going to let my father, and me for that matter, get the best of her. “I’ll see you then.” I disconnect and shove the phone into my pocket, about to climb out of my skin. My phone rings and I snatch it up, hoping for Carrie, but it’s my father.

I grimace and answer the call. “Father.”

“We should meet.”

“After I draw up your retirement papers. I’ll let you know when they’re ready.”

“Or you’ll ruin me,” he states.

“Yes. With a smile on my face.”

“I made you, boy.”

“I couldn’t be more aware of that fact right now. I’ll be in touch.” I disconnect and call Gabe.

“We need to talk. I’m on my way there.”

“I had a feeling that was coming,” he replies.

“I’m running. I’ll be there in under an hour.”

“Running. That tells me you and Carrie didn’t make up.”

“Not even close.”

“Man, Reid. That sucks. What are you going to do?”

“Make him pay.” I disconnect and head to my closet. A few minutes later, I’ve brushed my teeth, and I’m now dressed in running shoes, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. I walk to the front door, snatch my keys from the entryway table, and stare at Carrie’s bags on the floor right beside mine where I left them last night. I open the fucking door and exit. I need out of here.

A few minutes later, I’m running, music blaring in my headphones in an effort to block out everything but the run, but it doesn’t work. I’m replaying that kitchen scene with my father. He’s such a little bitch. In the moment, standing in that kitchen, all I could think of was to contain his attention on Carrie and get her out of there. A strategy I blew when I went after her, which means it was all for nothing. I could have just wrapped her in my arms, ushered her out of there and forced my father out. I need to tell her that. I stop running and pull my phone from my pocket, but shove it back inside. I need to tell her in person and if that means waiting until tomorrow, I’ll wait.

I start running again and this time I don’t stop until I reach the high-rise where my brother lives, several miles away. I pass security without a need to sign in; I’m on his list and security knows me well. I’m at his door just as quickly. Knowing Gabe will leave the door open for me, I enter and head through the living room, a room framed with brick on two walls and a floor-to-ceiling window spanning another. Everything in his place is brown and tan, the décor masculine, the statement screaming: Bachelor forever. I get it. I felt the same way.

Until Carrie.

I walk up a set of stairs that leads to the upper-level kitchen to find my sister standing at the wood-finished island with Gabe, both in sweats and T-shirts like me. “Let me guess,” I say, leaning on the door jam. “You’re here to tell Gabe your big news. Are you—”

“If I had a secret,” Cat says. “I wouldn’t tell you two. At least not right now.”

“So she’s pregnant, but not announcing it yet,” Gabe says, leaning on the island. “An assessment I make by the fact that she won’t say she’s not.”

“Good grief. I’m not on the stand in a courtroom.” She folds her arms in front of her. “What happened with Carrie?”

“You saw what happened. She fucking hates me now.”

“You made her feel like you were using her, Reid.”

“I know, fuck, I know, Cat. In my mind, at the time, it felt like the best way to get her out of there and try to get her off his radar.”

“I know,” she says. “You told me that, but if it were me, if I were Carrie, I’d be hurting right now.”

“Sounds like a six-dozen roses apology is needed,” Gabe says.

“No,” I say. “She thinks I took over her company to hurt her and her father. She thinks I’m using her for some endgame. Roses will feel fake.”

“Agreed,” Cat says. “They might actually make it worse. What are you going to do?”

“I told dad I’m forcing his retirement.” I look at Gabe. “Has he called you?”

“No, and Cat told me what you said to him, but how the fuck are you going to force him out?”

“I know something he did that he doesn’t want anyone else to know.”

“Then why the fuck haven’t we gotten him out before now?” Gabe says. “Let’s do it.”

“You’re really going to do it?” Cat asks.

“Yes. I’ve wanted him out since I read that letter from mom.”

“You have?”

“Yes, Cat. I have. I didn’t know who he was. I’m not him. I’m really not him after meeting Carrie.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?” she asks.

“No,” I say. “Not yet. Maybe, but I don’t want you being connected to this. I want her to know you as you. She needs to know we aren’t like him. I know she saw the real you yesterday, at least.”

“He needs to know we’re united,” Gabe says, drawing our attention back to our father. “The three of us. That’s not something he’s used to. It’ll let him know our role in his bullshit is over.” His cellphone rings, and when he answers his lips curve. “Send him up.” He disconnects. “He’s here. How well-timed.”

“Yes, it is,” Cat says. “Because I’m still angry about him making a scene at Reese’s party.”

“Anyone want a drink while he comes up?” Gabe asks, looking at Cat.

“Stop trying to make me announce that I’m pregnant,” she says. “And why would I drink? I need to be here and present for this.”

“I’ll go get him,” Gabe says. “He should be at the door any minute.” The bell rings. “And there he is.” He rounds the island and I step further into the kitchen to allow him to pass. Once Gabe is gone, I look at Cat. “Let’s go to the living room. I don’t want us all trapped in this small space with him. I actually think he will find that empowering, a place he can throw his power around and have it bounce off the walls onto us.”

“Good idea,” she says, hurrying forward and out of the kitchen, down the stairs.

I follow her and right about the time we’re standing on the far side of the couch facing the door, Gabe and our father walk in the door. They join us, the two of them facing us until Gabe steps to the opposite side of Cat, the three of us facing him. “Isn’t this cozy,” he says. “My three children, whom I love.”

“They’re with me,” I say. “You’re out.”

His lips twitch and he looks at me. “I’ll leave the firm, but my payout will be substantial.”

“It’ll be what I say it is,” I say. “And we both know why.”

“I don’t think you have the balls to act on that threat.”

“You don’t believe that or you wouldn’t be here trying to recruit Gabe to your side. You’re out.”

“Maybe later, when work isn’t everything to you,” Cat says, “we can try to be a real family.”

He looks at her. “You have no place in this conversation. You walked away from the firm. Stay out of it.”

“Perhaps the only one of us that was smart about her life,” Gabe replies dryly.

“All this for West’s daughter?” my father demands, turning his attention back to me.

“It’s for all of us. It’s for mom and yes, for me, it’s also for Carrie. The war is over. There’s closure. West Senior is out and so are you. A new generation now runs both companies.”

He stares at me, his eyes glinting hard. “I’ll send you my terms. Meet them and I’ll leave quietly.” He turns to walk toward the door but stops short turning to pin me in a stare. “But I’m never out, boy. Remember that.” This time he rotates fully and leaves.

When the door is shut, the three of us stand there, seconds tick by before Cat says, “A new generation. Mom is cheering from above.”

I scrub my jaw, thinking about Carrie. “I need to go.”

“To Carrie?” Cat asks.

“No, but I have an idea to get her back.”

I head for the door, and then the elevator. The minute I’m on the street, I call Carrie’s father. He doesn’t answer. I leave a message. “I want to make a trade. Call me.” I start running for the return home and I’m halfway there when he calls back.

“If that trade involves my daughter, forget it.”

“If I push my father out, you tell her everything.”

“Never. I did this the way I did it, so she’d never know everything and I will never let you be with her. Never.”

“I’m giving you my father’s demise in exchange for you telling her everything.”

“You won’t admit it, but you wanted his demise. I gave it to you. Thank me by staying the fuck away from my daughter.” He hangs up.

There's only one way I can force Carrie's father to talk. I'd have to get new dirt on him and blackmail him and he deserves it, but I can't do it. Not if I want her back and I do. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.