“Did you know they put the ugly invitees in a different room for pledging?”
Mom, her hand jerking to her throat, blanches. “Oh, god, I forgot about that! Denny, I’m so sorry, baby?—”
“I wasn’t about to take that disrespect. You raised me not to.” I tipup my chin. “I’m loyal. I’m hardworking. I get shit done with boys who are harder to corral than a bunch of randy goats pawing at nannies! I may not like the major I’m taking, but I know when you eventually let me into the agency, I will rock at it even if I hate it because hockey is a world I understand and these dipshit boys make sense to me.” I maintain eye contact with him. “I’m worth more than just being a wife, Dad.”
He surprises me by grabbing my hand. “I wield a lot of power in Greek life, Denny. I have dirt on people that count and could have actioned that to keep you safe. Meeting the right people, being around them—it’d have set you up for life. That’s what I wanted. Your future assuredandinsured. A husband might have been on my mind because I know being an agent isn’t what you want to do with your life and I trust Paul and Logan with my business like I trust a hole in the head. Would I like to make sure you give them all jobs? Of course. But you’re right—they are heathens. Put them in the mailroom once they’re done with hockey and let them work their way up.
“But you misunderstood, honey. I wanted you to get a husband who’d protect you and the agency. I figured he could deal with the clients and you could handle things behind the scenes. My intention was never to tie you to charity galas and the like. I know you’re not your mom.” He winces. “Sorry, Mel.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll take the insult. This once.”
His smile’s sheepish. “Denver, I built this business for me, yes, but I always knew I’d pass it on to you. I want you to work with me at the agency because I trust no one more than I trust family. More than I trust you. I know you’ll get shit done. I may have been heavy-handed with school, but that’s because I’ve worked damn hard to establish myself in this world and I want to pass that onto you.” He grabs my hand then sighs in relief when I don’t tug it out of reach. “Is that so bad, sweetheart?”
“No,” I concede tiredly. “But you have to accept that I’m going to do things my way too.”
“And I do!”
It’s time to come clean.
“You know what happened to Dyers?”
“Dyers? That strange boy who fed some poor girl his poop?”
My brows lift at Mom’s interruption. “What?”
“I read about it on some blog post the other day. That one you like. TheI Told You Soone.”
Because she can’t know that I had Callan feed that info to the blogger, I gasp. “She posted! How come I didn’t get a notification?!”
“Let’s get back on track, Denver,” Dad says wryly. “What about him?”
“I’m the one who ruined his life.”
“What?” Mom garbles.
“I orchestrated it. I asked my friends for help and we brought him down like the animal he is.”
Dad’s eyes widen at my smug tone. “Are you kidding?”
“No. I had something to prove to you.” At his bewilderment, I ramble, “I’m no good at my major, Dad. I’m on the wrong path and the only way I could make you believe that is by showing you what Iamgood at. Fixing.”
“Fixing?” Mom sputters.
“I want to change my major. I want to go into PR.”
He blinks at me. “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?”
“Got that asshole who was mean to me sent to Edinburgh? Yeah, I know what I’ve done.” I’m well aware my parents are sharing looks over the top of my head. “Did you know he raped a girl on campus? That the administration punished him formisconduct? The second I knew that, my plan only grew. No way was I letting him get away with something like that. And it worked. Because I know this is something I’m good at. It’s something that’ll be of use to the agency. We both know what dipshits athletes can be. Just trust in me, Dad. Please. I know what’s right for me.”
He rubs at his eyes. “Denver, you don’t know what?—”
“Yes, I do!”
His hand drops away so I have to battle with his glare. “You’ve pissed off some important people who had high hopes for him.”
“Do I look like I care?”
“No, you don’t, and that’s what worries me. Fuck, you can’t tell anyone about this. About your involvement—” With rough hands, he drags them through his hair. “Aside from your friends. Are they trustworthy?”
