“I need a better recipe,” I said to Rudolph when I took him outside. “Also, my buttercream sucks.” It was disgusting and somehow tasted both greasy and too sweet.
*
Rudolph was startingto become a problem. I kept him with me, but I needed a dog nanny or dog babysitter. I texted Walker as I rode the elevator.
Owen:Dog daycare. We should offer that at Quantum Cyber.
Walker:Sounds like a crazy idea… a crazy good one! Look at you being fun and hip.
Owen:It's not about hipness, it's for convenience. Plus Rudolph needs socialization.
Walker:Ha! You're such a dog dad now.
Owen:… No.
Walker:Absolute dog dad.
I left Rudolph with my secretary. She gave me a guilty look when I asked her to mind the dog for a few hours.
“Or not?” I asked with a frown.
“I might have let your father into your office,” she admitted. “He wanted to see you. He said it was an emergency.”
I sucked in a breath. I did not have the bandwidth to deal with my father this morning.
“You know my parents aren't supposed to be up here,” I reminded her.
“I'm so sorry. He's just…” she made a helpless gesture.
“Yeah, I know. He steamrolls himself wherever he wants to be.” I shook my head, bracing myself.
My father was sitting on my desk when I walked into the office.
“Owen, my golden child,” he boomed. We were the same height. He was a slightly older version of me and my brothers, with the same prematurely white hair. There I liked to think the similarities ended. My father was self-absorbed, had a massive ego, and looked down on anyone who didn't act how he wanted them to act. My whole childhood had been an obstacle course of trying to make him proud of me—until Belle left, when I just sort of stopped caring.
“You didn't have to come here,” I said, willing him to leave. “I’m sure you're needed at the hospital.”
“I have a spinal and brain surgery on a toddler to perform in an a few hours,” he said. “It’s the one from the robbery that was in the news. They're making a documentary about the child's road to recovery. I, of course, am an integral part of that.”
“You do save lives,” I said neutrally.
“The parents said they didn't want any other surgeon than myself. Of course, someone has to be the best,” he said smugly. “Not that you'd know anything about that, what with the fact that your company has not been anywhere near the top of theTechBizlist the last few years.”
There it was.
“You couldn't just send me a passive-aggressive email instead of coming to berate me in person?” I said, forcing myself to sound cold and bored. If my father sensed weakness, he pounced.
“I have faith in you, son,” my father said, clapping me on the shoulder. “You were always my favorite child. You're just like me. I know you'll be back on top in no time.”
I shrugged his hand off.
“Besides,” he continued, smiling conspiratorially, “I hear from your mother that Sloane is looking out for you. You made a good choice in her.”
“There is not and never will be anything between Sloane and me,” I replied.
But it was as if my father didn’t even hear me. “She told us when we had her over for dinner that she's looking to have a baby within a year after you two are married,” he barreled on.
“I am not marrying her.”
