He smiles. ‘Well, I like winning so that works out just fine.’
We play. Or rather,heplays while I attempt to evenhit my stupid digital ball in a straight line. Much to Evan’s delight.
We’re at hole nine by the time Evan clears his throat.
Evan’s eyes fix on the screen. ‘You and Maggie.’
There it is.
Here comes the kicker. Or the threat. Hopefully not the safe sex talk. Anything but that.
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘It‘s not part of the plan.’
I nod and swing, sending my digital ball flying right into a pixelated bunker. ‘Plans change.’
‘Not much around here.’
I line up my next shot and fuck it up so badly that I send the ball skidding sideways. Dammit.
‘Can I ask you something?’ If I’m going to be murdered, I might go out with answers.
He gestures for me to continue.
‘Why does Maggie need to take over your company?’ I keep my tone light, like I don’t know what the company is. ‘Maggie says that Eliza is a much better fit.’
Evan exhales. ‘Eliza is excellent, but it’s tradition. It’s always been eldest to eldest, as long as we have records.’
Of course it is.
‘Sometimes tradition is just people refusing to admit they might be wrong,’ I say before I can stop myself.
He glances at me. ‘And what do you know about tradition, Roman?’
‘Not much, to be fair.’ I hesitate, then keep going, because apparently today is confession day. ‘But I know that birth order doesn’t equate to skill, and that many afamily legacy has been pissed up a tree by an eldest son while the second child has to sit idly by and watch. I also know a lot about holding onto things long after it makes any sense to do so. About letting past choices dictate new decisions.’
‘Such as?’
I stare at the screen, throat tight. ‘Such as avoiding relationships because someone broke your heart once. Such as deciding you’re fundamentally unlovable because your mum left and your dad killed himself. I let that belief run my whole life. Told myself it made sense. It doesn’t. It’s fear.’
Evan scrutinises me as I take another digital swing.
‘Until?’ he prompts.
I swallow. ‘Until Maggie.’
Saying her name solidifies the thought. Turns it into reality. Maggie makes me want to cut off all the lies.
Evan takes a shot. Perfect arc right onto the green. Then he sets the club down and looks at me.
‘I like you, you know. You’re a good sort.’
‘That compliment sounds like it comes with a but.’ I say.
‘Perceptive. Liking you doesn’t mean I think you’re right for my daughter.’
And despite the fact I’m not actually dating his daughter, his words hit like a kick in the teeth.
