I can’t help it—I’m smirking, and use their distraction to reach down and finally adjust myself.
I know exactly why they’re shocked, because when Susa showed me and explained it, I was pleasantly shocked, too.
“In case your math skills are rusty, Daddy, yes, I’ve actuallyincreasedthe value of my trust by twohundred thousanddollars in the last sixmonths. I did some research and made some excellent stock choices and then sold them. So I’d say I’m doing okay right now.” She shuts the phone off and slides it back into her pocket. “And Carter doesn’t get a say about that, either.”
She’s right. While we know each other’s finances, one of my rules was that, for the two of us, the actual management of our money is a joint venture with the person whose account it is getting the final say. That excludes purchases. I have veto powers. Together, we support Owen. The other can veto what we feel is a poor decision that will cost money, but as far as smart investment to increase our savings, that’s off-limits.
In fact, I’ve taken Susa’s advice and started retooling my own savings and retirement accounts. Plus, the small retirement account we started for Owen is already making tiny gains. She obviously knows her stuff. If she wasn’t going to be an attorney, I’d be urging her to think about becoming a stock broker or something.
Hey, I’m a bastard, but I’m not an idiot. I’m happy to admit Susa is an expert in this area, and both Owen and I are learning a lot from her. Instead of her going out and partying in high school, she spent it learning, researching, and building her trust, which her father gave her control of at age sixteen. It’s part of the reason she was upset at Benchley for overruling her decision to live in a dorm this year. She’d been looking forward to a “normal” life, for a change.
Fortunately, it all worked out for the best.
Michelle is crying now. “Honey, can wepleasetalk about this like adults?” She sends a withering glare my way. “Alone?”
“No.”
“Are you pregnant?” Benchley asks, full-on death glare at me in progress.
“No, Daddy, I’m not pregnant. That’s not going to be a problem.”
I ignore the pang I feel over that but refuse to let my emotions show or give anything away.
“What about school?” Michelle has devolved into tearful pleading.
“I’m still going to school. We all agree that school is our priority.”
“Then why did youfuckingdothis?” Benchley roars, back to thunder.
“Because time is never your friend, and it’s never on your side,” she softly says. “That’s what you told me. And Nana always told me to take time to make time, or I’d regret it.” She glances at me over her shoulder. “Carter’s a decorated war vet. He nearly died saving his men. He wants to be an attorney, and he wants to help me get elected as governor.”
“Then why did you quit the GOP? What thehellam I supposed to tell people…”
And…
And…
AND…
We stand there for the better part of thirty minutes with her parents repeatedly circling around the same issues.
Honestly? I’m not so sure that Benchley might be more upset about Susa switching party affiliation than he is about her getting married. As I read him, when she showed them her trust’s bank balance, that seemed to mentally slide the man into a different track.
Michelle is still pleading with Susa to talk to them alone, and Susa’s still refusing.
Finally, Benchley scrubs his face with his hands and sounds defeated. “If you were arealfucking man,” he says to me, “you would have fucking called me and talked to me about this first.”
Susa crosses her arms again, her voice returning to that drop-dead fucking sexy growl. “How many years didyouspend in the Army, Daddy? How many car bombs didyouthrow yourself in front of to protect your men, hmm?”
His eyes widen, and I’m again simultaneously hard and trying not to burst out laughing. She’s got him, and he fucking knows it.
She steps forward and actually forces the man back a step. “Don’t youeverquestion his manhood again,Senator,” she says. “Because he’s got a Purple Heart and the scars to prove his bravery. Suck it up.Bothof you. I love you, but this isdone. Are we having dinner, or do we need to leave?”
I reach out and gently lay my hand on her shoulder and call my sweet little Hellhound back to my side.
“Susa,” I say, “as you both are well aware, is very independent. I asked if she wanted to take more time and have a formal wedding, and she didn’t want to waste the money on one. Now, I know this isn’t perhaps how you envisioned gaining a son-in-law, but if it means anything, my parents have been married for over forty years, and I don’t take my vows lightly.”
“What do your parents think of this?” Benchley asks.
