Say You Still Love Me(104)

“Have I dated anyone younger than you yet?”

“No. Key word being yet.”

He regards me evenly. “If I told you she’s thirty-five and she makes me happy, would you approve?”

“So she’s the same age as your son. I wonder if they went to school together. Maybe they dated.”

“And this is why I don’t tell you about the women I see,” he mutters, annoyed.

“Hey. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” That’s a self-serving declaration if I’ve ever heard one, but I’ll be able to remind him of it in the future, when he finds out about Kyle. It’s only a matter of time.

I note with surprise the cell phone spoon rest sitting on Dad’s desk, the twin to mine. The one that Dad sneered at weeks ago and wanted to throw out. I’m about to ask him about it when Tripp strolls in.

“Kieran! Good to see you again! Piper . . . don’t you look nice.” He barely glances at me.

I struggle not to roll my eyes and give my father the flattest “see?” look I can muster.

“Sounds like you’ve been putting in some long hours lately,” my dad offers as Tripp takes the vacant chair beside me.

“That’s because you’ve raised a slave driver.” Tripp chuckles, and it’s not the fake laugh that’s always directed at me. It’s the laugh of a man who is comfortable and pleased. Perhaps because he’s been granted an audience with the king again after what I’m guessing he deemed a demotion, having to report into me. Perhaps because he thinks this arrangement with KDZ is a lock.

“That’s what I like to hear.” My dad winks at me.

I stifle another urge to roll my eyes. Please tell me Dad’s swift enough to see that Tripp is using his weakness—me—to score points.

“So you’ve had a chance to go through the contract? It’s solid, right? I told you they were coming in strong. They really want this. More than Jameson, based on what I’ve seen.” Tripp speaks directly to my father, as if I’m not even in the room.

“And have you received the updated proposal from Jameson already? Did you forget to send that one to me, too?” I ask lightly, sliding my jab in.

Tripp offers me a forced smile. “No, I haven’t.”

“Then you’ll be getting it soon. Gary said it would be in today.”

“They’ve had plenty of time to deliver. More than KDZ.”

“They’re reworking their numbers to meet our new timelines,” I say, keeping my voice even.

He snorts. “What they’re doing is trying to make a rabbit appear out of a hat. I’ve seen this before, a hundred times. You’ll start to recognize it one day, don’t you worry.”

And there’s another condescending jab.

The urge to lean over and punch him is overwhelming. I grit my teeth into a smile. “By the way, how do you know this Hank Kavanaugh?”

“How do I know him?” Tripp shrugs. “I know him like I know all my contacts. Through years of carefully cultivating industry relationships.”

“A lot of golf, I’ll bet.”

“Yes, well . . .” He chuckles. “That’s how things have gotten done over the decades that your father and I have been at this.”

Well played, Tripp. Position yourself as equal to my father. Keep trying to make me look inexperienced and dumb. I’ll admit, I am inexperienced when you stack up résumés.

But I am not dumb.

“So that’s how you two met? Golfing?” I push.

His eyes narrow as he assesses me a few beats, as if searching for an answer. Why is she asking me this? What does she know? “We went to the same college. That was definitely a conversation starter for us.”

Actually, you two were roommates. Something I can’t blurt out without letting on that I’ve been digging into Tripp’s past. But that he didn’t mention it now . . . He’s hiding a potential conflict of interest. That’s another red flag.

Tripp waits another few beats and, when I don’t respond, turns back to my father. “Kieran, Hank is ready to commit today. You know where my head’s at on this and I’ve been around the block a few times.”

My dad regards him with his naturally steely eyes. “So have I.”

Tripp holds his hands up in surrender. “All I’m saying is, I’m telling you, KDZ is the right move for the Marquee project.”

Dad’s lips twist in thought. I know that look. It’s the one he gets when he’s about to make a decision.

“I disagree,” I blurt out.

Tripp’s sigh is poorly concealed.

“Why?” my father asks evenly.

I don’t have much choice anymore. Still, I choose my words carefully, keeping my gaze on my father. “Because there is a rumor that KDZ has been known to offer kickbacks to secure contracts.”

“That’s bullshit!” Tripp bursts. “Where did you hear something like that?”

“A reliable source.”

“Who?” he demands to know.

I remain calm. “No one I am going to name at this time.”

“And so what are you implying, Piper? What, that I’m taking a kickback?” Tripp adjusts his position in his seat, the casual slouch replaced with stiff indignation. “After giving almost thirty goddamn years to your family’s company, you’re accusing me of that? Kieran?” He looks with bewilderment at my father.