“What if I told you I have cancer? Late stage. Terminal.”
She lets out a soft gasp, then blinks a few times as though trying to process this bombshell. Her chin wobbles for a second, her mouth opening and closing a couple of times as though she’s searching for something to say. After a couple of moments, she shakes her head. “Dying won’t erase the memory of youannouncing that I was a disappointment because I’m a girl. Or the pain and humiliation you caused me and Mom when you flaunted your mistress and the son you thought you’d had with her. Even now, you’re just thinking about ways to use me to get the son you desperately want. I mean less than a dog to you.”
“You heartless bitch,” he hisses between clenched teeth.
I bristle. “You don’t talk to my girlfriend with disrespect.”
“Your girlfriend?” he sneers. “She’s my daughter. What are you going to do? Hit me?”
“Do you really have cancer?” I study his hale complexion. “For a dying man, you’re awfully loud and confrontational.”
“Of course not. I threw it out there to see if she’d relent.”
Max’s jaw drops. I exhale slowly. I always thought my parents were the world champions in shamelessness, but they’re amateurs compared to this guy.
He glares at us. “Jesus Christ, what a couple of disgusting, ungrateful, ill-mannered assholes.”
He walks past me, intentionally bumping his shoulder against mine. I stick my foot out. He’s so busy cursing and shaking his head that he trips and falls to his knees. “Ow!”
“Oops.”
He rubs his knees. “You son of a bitch,” he manages to snarl through the pain.
“What you going to do about it? Hit us?” Max taunts him.
I take her hand. “Let’s go. Something stinks worse than a zombie skunk in here.”
Chapter Forty-One
Max
URGENT NOTICE: ENSURE YOU COMPLETE YOUR QUARTERLY REVIEW BY THIS FRIDAY. YOUR COMPLIANCE IS MANDATORY. NO EXCEPTIONS ALLOWED.
I sigh.An email from HR.Oh joy.
And with an all-caps subject line in case anybody’s unclear as to its importance. Someone should tell Kaitlyn there’s a reason her emails often get deleted unread—it’s just that nobody wants to be that someone. She can make your life difficult.
As usual, Rhys asks me to make a reservation at my restaurant of choice for the review. I book a lunch at Bovine Bistro. Only a few blocks from the office, it has some of the best hamburgers and artisan beers in the city, and I’ve been craving a cheeseburger.
Or maybe the baby’s craving it. It could be like our little ritual—to hanker for it together. I wish I could replicate Mom’s recipe. Although the copy she left burned up in the fire, I’ve already tried it a few times, so the steps are familiar.
I have to be missingsomethingfor it to not taste like hers, though. Should’ve spent more time with her in the kitchen, learning her secret ingredients. Back then it felt like we had all the time in the world. It’s sad I’ll never taste that homey flavor again.
“Where to for lunch?” Rhys asks around twelve thirty.
“Bovine Bistro.”
“Great choice.” The shield around him crumbles when he looks at me with such tenderness in his eyes, a soft smile on his lips.
It suddenly hits me that I’ve seen him smile more often in the last several weeks than the previous three years. And he seems much more relaxed since the auction. Dare I take credit for his happier mood?
Despite our expiration date—which I set, and for which I want to face-palm myself every day—my entire being wants to stay with Rhys forever. Sometimes he seems to want that too, but doubts linger. What if I’m only seeing what I want to see? What if he’s just playing the part of boyfriend to perfection to get back at his grandmother? Although he showed disdain for her choices, given Sorcha’s attitude and general competence, the candidates must have redeeming qualities.
They probably don’t have fathers who abandoned their families for fortune or “heirs” with penises.
Okay,no negative thoughts. I pick up my purse. “Let’s go. I’m craving a good cheeseburger.”
Rhys’s smile widens. “So am I.”
