“The scallops could use a little more time in the oven,” Brom added thoughtfully. “Maybe thirty seconds more? Just to get the bacon a little crunchier.”
Stacy’s expression went from hopeful to murderous in about half a second. “Are you kidding me? I came out here for praise, not a culinary critique! These are perfect as they are!”
She snatched the tray back and stalked toward the kitchen, muttering under her breath about ungrateful family members and people who wouldn’t know good food if it bit them on the ass.
“I’m going to pay for that later,” Brom said with a rueful grin, but he didn’t look particularly concerned. The old Brom would have been stressed about creating conflict. This version seemed content to let Stacy have her moment of artistic temperament.
“She’ll get over it,” Emmy said, waving dismissively. “Especially when everyone raves about those appetizers tonight. They really are amazing.”
The way my family was laughing and joking and allowing themselves to be excited about something again just made my heart swell. It made the magnitude of Kent’s gift even more clear.
For the first time in months, we weren’t just surviving. We were thriving. We could think about life and living instead of barely scraping by. Turned out there was a lot to live for.
I turned to look for Kent, wanting to share this moment with him. I wanted to let him see firsthand the joy his decision had brought to my family. But when I spotted him through the front windows, my excitement dimmed into concern.
He was pacing on the front porch, his phone pressed to his ear. Even from this distance I could see the tension in his shoulders. His free hand was running through his hair in the kind of agitated gesture that suggested whatever conversation he was having wasn’t going well.
Something was wrong.
I didn’t have to guess what. The poor man was getting his ass chewed out because of what he was doing for us.
I excused myself from the group and headed outside, wrapping my arms around myself as the cold air hit me. Kent was facing away from the lodge, staring out at the tree farm, but I could hear fragments of his conversation carried on the winter wind.
“I understand you’re disappointed… Yes, I know what the quarterly projections showed… No, this wasn’t a decision I made lightly.”
My stomach dropped. He was talking to his father. And from the sound of it, Armand Bancroft knew about our deal.
I waited at the edge of the porch, not wanting to interrupt but unable to walk away when Kent was clearly struggling.
I wanted to go to him, but something told me to wait. Let him deal with this in his way. He had assured me over and over he wanted to do this. He chose us over his family. That was something that was going to take some time to work through. All I could do was wait and be there when he needed me.
The papers were signed. He wasn’t going to change his mind.
It was done.
CHAPTER 66
KENT
It was the call I was hoping to avoid, but after my visit to town today, I realized I was proud of what I had done. I wanted my father to celebrate with me. If he couldn’t do that, I supposed that was his problem. He would respect me more if I told him rather than him finding out through a lawyer or the grapevine in general.
For some reason, I still wanted my father’s acceptance and respect. I wasn’t sure if it was because I saw the relationship between Brom and Harold and that’s what I wanted or if it was me trying to stick it to him. Show him I could make shit happen.
It took me a good thirty seconds before I was able to push the button and make the call.
“Kent?” he answered, and just by the tone of his voice, I knew.
“Dad,” I said, trying to keep my own voice steady. “I assume you’ve heard about the Northwood deal.”
“Heard about it?” His laugh was sharp and humorless. “I had three different lawyers call me this afternoon asking why my son had committed significant personal assets to a property acquisition without consulting Bancroft Industries. Imagine my surprise when I learned that not only had you gone overmy head, but you’d completely undermined months of careful planning.”
I started pacing the length of the porch. It was cold but I barely noticed the temperature. I felt invincible. I was riding the high of closing the deal and being with Sylvie and finding my own footing. I just wanted him to acknowledge the move.
“I saw a chance to do the right thing, and I took it,” I said.
“The right thing?” Dad’s voice rose slightly, though he maintained that terrifying control he was famous for. “This is not how Bancrofts do business, Kent. It’s messy. It’s unprofessional. And it’s betrayal. People are going to question me and your brothers now.”
“Why?” I asked.
