How to Resist Prince Charming(68)

Tom fell quiet. Ben continued talking, updating him on minor issues, but Tom didn’t pay much attention. His thoughts returned to his daughter.

Braxton had bought her a ring. He had told her he loved her.

It might not have been a lie.

Feeling a migraine coming on, Tom cradled his head in his hand and muttered, “God damn it.”



The next Friday, two weeks after he’d suspended Tom from Farris Industries, Braxton called Davenport into the office for a talk. He would’ve preferred to do anything except speak to Lenna’s father. Get his wisdom teeth cut out, pass a kidney stone, be burned at the stake...

He didn’t want to see Tom again for as long as he lived. But the man arrived at Braxton’s office just before noon.

An antsy-looking Tasha showed him in. Since Braxton already knew she’d stand outside and listen through the keyhole, he didn’t bother telling her to shut the door.

Instead, he shot straight to the point. “It was Gloria Benson,” he said before Tom could even sit.

The older man paused, his knees already bent to plant himself in the chair across from Braxton.

He lifted his face and straightened. “What was?”

“The person who broke into my computer and downloaded my sensitive files.”

Mouth falling open, Tom straightened. “Gloria? But...I never would’ve thought she would...Really? It was Gloria?”

Braxton nodded. “I terminated her employment this morning. Farris Industries has also filed a lawsuit against her. There’s a possibility she’ll end up with jail time over this. But the good news is we caught her before she successfully sold any company information or stole enough money to hurt us.” He paused significantly before adding, “So you can stop covering for Ben now.”

Tom’s gaze sharpened. “Ben?” he said with all the confusion of an innocent man, except Braxton spotted the sweat beading his temple.

His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, your pal came clean and confessed he’d been in my computer as well. But he assured me the only files he downloaded were...” he coughed as a look of utter devastation crossed his features before he swallowed and added, “those pictures for you.”

“Is he...” Tom tried to ask, but his voice went hoarse before he could finish the question.

“Fired?” Braxton prompted. When he shook his head, Tom deflated. “No, Hendricks isn’t fired. Neither are you, for that matter. Actually, I’ve revoked your suspension. You can start working again Monday. That is, assuming you want to come back.”

Half hoping he’d decline—Brax could live out a full, peaceful life without ever setting eyes on Davenport again—and half hoping he’d accept—Farris Industries really did need the bastard back—Braxton waited a tense moment while Tom contemplated his answer.

Finally, Lenna’s father gave a brief nod. “Yes,” he said, his Adam’s apple jerking. “Yes, I’d like to come back.”

Braxton exhaled a small breath he’d been holding. “Okay,” he said, trying sound as monotone as possible. “We’ll see you Monday. Your co-workers will be relieved to relinquish your duties back to you.”

With his dismissal made, Braxton turned away and flipped open his organizer; he’d have to schedule another meeting once Davenport returned. He realized Tom stuck around, watching him, but he didn’t care. He ignored the older man until Tom spoke.

“What about compensation pay for my leave of absence?”

Braxton slowly lifted his face. Weeks’ worth of pent up rage must’ve shown on his face because Tom took a leery step back.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Braxton said. “I hate you.”

Tom’s eyes widened.

“I hate you more than…than…Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone before. But I f*cking hate you. I’d be happy if I never had to see you again. You took away the most important thing in my life.”

Slipping a little too close to his raw emotions, Braxton paused and took a second to breathe through his nose. “If I were you,” he started again, calmer this time. “I wouldn’t ask for any favors or special treatment from me. Ever. You’re lucky you got your job back.”

“Why did I get it back then?” Tom’s gaze was confrontational, but his face had paled to pasty and sick.

Braxton snorted out a derisive laugh.

“Haven’t you caught on yet, old man? You’re her father. I couldn’t have fired you if you’d been the f*cking embezzler.” To his own horror, his voice cracked.

His face turned hot. “Get out,” he snapped, hoping the man would scram before he lost it.

Thankfully, Tom stumbled backward, reaching blindly behind him for the exit.



Braxton stopped by the liquor store on his way home and had the bottle open by the time he staggered through the front door.

He hadn’t nearly reached that happy place where nothing hurt anymore when his phone rang.

He had no idea what hour it was. Time had no meaning but pints and quarts, and his bourbon was three-fourths empty.

He checked his caller ID, not quite social enough to talk to anyone. But when he saw his parents’ number, he answered.

“Yeah?”

“Guess what?” his dad’s cheerful voice echoed through the line.