“The call with Texas went well, as usual. Nothing to report there. We vetted the new head of security. . .”
“What are your thoughts on him?” he asks in the midst of my report.
“He’s level-headed. Seems like a good guy.”
“Your mother thinks he’s ‘hot,’” he says, scowling.
It’s funny coming from him, since all the older ladies in the office salivate over Dad. Some of the younger ones even call him “Daddy Henry.” It’s pretty fucking weird. I only know this because my secretary likes to gossip and keeps me informed. According to him, the younger women are now lusting after me, but that’s not happening. Even if I wasn’t set on Lyla, I’d never fuck someone I work with in any capacity.
“I guess he’s good-looking,” I say finally. “How did she even see him?”
“She got here when he was leaving the room yesterday.” He looks at the door as if the scene is replaying. “It doesn’t matter. She’s allowed to find other men attractive. It’s just, he’s young and I’m getting old, you know.” He chuckles. “It’s funny, I never gave a shit about things like this before.”
I nod. That’s understandable since he only grew a heart after his treatments.
“Anything else we need to discuss?” he asks.
“Liam’s still working with IT to try to stop a few hackers from stealing crypto from some rich people that have Duke Tech on retainer, but that’s ongoing and we have no real solution yet.”
“Keep me posted,” he says. “What about your inheritance?”
“I still think it’s bullshit,” I say. “I should be getting that money with no strings attached.”
For a brief moment, I think about tacking on that I should get it with no strings because of the shitty father he’s been, but I don’t. I’m really trying to let go of my anger. Besides, bringing up money’s pointless since it’s the only thing we ever saw from him each month.
“You know, I said the same thing to my father,” he says with a laugh.
“And then you married my mother and only saw her when it was convenient to you,” I point out.
He walked right into that one. He shrugs but says nothing to defend himself. I have to give him some credit.
When he sold me on the deal, he conveniently forgot to disclose that I’d only receive my inheritance — which was triple what the highest NHL player made — if I was at least twenty-five and married. Right now, I only check one of those boxes. What gets me is that he was once in my position, so he knows how ridiculous this is. When Mom moved in with him, she confessed to us that their marriage was out of convenience, and they just happened to fall in love. Well, she fell in love, and he fought it because he was so busy turning the millions he’d inherited from his father into billions. I’m still upset that she didn’t tell us years ago.
“I don’t understand why marriage is part of the equation. The papers state when I turned twenty-five.” I point at the pile of papers on his desk, as if my inheritance contract is somewhere in there.
“Twenty-fiveandmarried. If you don’t hold up that end of the bargain, you won’t get your stipend,” he says, “And it’s a pretty big stipend. Much bigger than any hockey contract.”
“I know. I’ve seen the numbers.” I say through gritted teeth.
“Just marry a puck rabbit,” he says. “I’m sure they’d be willing.”
“I’m not marrying a puckbunny.”
“It doesn’t matter who it is, Lachlan.”
It does to me, but I can’t explain to my dad something that I barely understand myself. Even if it’s out of convenience, I don’t want to marry some random woman. They don’t even come close. Before I met her, women vied for my attention, but they never had it. They’d never get it. I’ve come to the realization that Lyla James is the prototype and I don’t do knockoffs. And I know the sentiment goes both ways. I refuse to believe that the guy in those pictures means anything to her. What we share can’t be duplicated.
I don’t say any of this aloud — ever — because I know how insane It'll sound. I fell completely in love with her. What I feel for her now isn’t love. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s unhealthy as fuck. I also know she’s the only antidote, so I need her to agree to this.
“So, what are you going to do?” He folds his hands on his desk. “Do you want to start interviewing people for the wife position?”
“I don’t have to interview people. I already have one.”
His brows hitch. “You have a wife?”
“Not yet, but I will soon.”I just have to guilt her into it.I clear my throat. “I’ll need the rest of the week off to get this settled.”
“Take two. Take a computer with you and keep your phone on,” he says. “Do you have any questions for me today?”
