He looked over at me, a slight crease marring his brow. “For what?”
“For all of this,” I said, gesturing vaguely around us. “I can’t imagine this has been easy on you.”
Pete studied me for a moment, then shook his head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, son.”
Son. Being called that by him again did something strange to my chest.
Over the weekend, he’d been so enthusiastic that I’d just been a little overwhelmed and amused by it, but now, it was more meaningful. More real. We’d gotten through something massive and yet, we were back here, with him accepting me into his family.
“If anything, I’m the one who’s going to be making this up to both my daughter and my wife for the next twenty years,” he said mildly. “Maybe twenty-five. I suspect those extra five years depends on how Abram receives what she’s about to tell him.”
I followed him inside. “Twenty years? That sounds extensive.”
He snorted. “You don’t know Vanderhaul women yet. They don’t ever let things go.”
I thought about Kate. About the look on her face in the car and the way she’d planted her finger in the air before telling a grown man, her own father, no less, that he wasn’t to say another word.
“Yeah, I think I’m starting to see that,” I said. “She really let you have it, huh?”
Pete nodded gravely. “If you dare try to fight a battle for them, they’ll never let you live it down.”
We followed the distant echo of Kate’s voice down the hall, growing louder with every step, until Pete slowed near a set of closed double doors. Her voice drifted through it. Her tone was sharp and furious but very much in control.
Pete leaned slightly toward me and muttered under his breath, “See that?”
I glanced at him. “The door?”
“No, what’s on the other side,” he said quietly. “That’s the Vanderhaul Chihuahua.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“That’s what they call her in New York,” he explained. “She got the nickname because she’s small, loud, and terrifying, and she doesn’t back down.”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread on my lips. “That sounds accurate.”
Pete reached for the door and pushed it open, but even as he walked in, I hung back for a minute because Kate already had Hinds cornered behind his desk—and not metaphorically. Literally cornered.
He looked deeply confused and mildly alarmed—just like both myself and the poor maid—like he’d expected a quiet conversation and had instead found himself in the middle of a courtroom drama he hadn’t agreed to participate in.
“How dare you assume I would allowanyman to go behind my back?” Kate was saying, pacing in front of his desk. “Especially my husband. The husbandyouforced me to marry if my dad wanted to keep his job.”
Hinds blinked rapidly at her, then glanced at me, then at Pete, a pleading expression in his eyes as he made eye contact.
Kate looked up, saw us, and shook her head. “Finally. It took you guys long enough to get in here.”
“I—” Hinds had finally turned back to her, but his eyes narrowed in confusion and he cut himself off.
“Youwhat?” she demanded, her body practically vibrating with rage and tension.
I moved forward before this escalated into something legally complicated, gently touching her shoulder as I stepped up to her side. “Kate, may I?”
She didn’t stop pacing, so I reached out and lightly took her arm, guiding her back until she was by my side. She resisted for approximately half a second before allowing it, but I could practically feel the indignation radiating off her in waves.
Pete’s warning echoed through my mind. If he’d been right, she was never going to forgive me for this, but I’d deal with that when we got there. For now, I met Hinds’ eyes and did my best to remain calm.
“There’s been a misunderstanding,” I said. “Someone overheard something they weren’t supposed to and they jumped to incorrect conclusions.”
“Yes, Kate was saying,” he said faintly, looking smaller than I had ever seen him.
