A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain #1)(59)

“Dad. Jesus. My whole attitude has shifted, but I need some time to work out the details.”

“Right. When do you go back?”

Fuck. “Very soon, but—”

“And I’m supposed to turn down a check for millions and sit back while you go back to Silicon Valley? So you can forget for another ten years that this place exists?”

“I’m not going to do that.” And I guess it all comes down to one thing. “Do you trust me, or not?”

I regret the question immediately.

“Why the fuck should I trust you?” His anger is so white-hot that it singes my heart. “You walked away from here fourteen years ago. Gone, except for a trail of canceled tuition checks. You showed your brothers the door, and then they did the same damn thing!”

“Wait, you blame me for Weston and Crew, too? How is that fair?”

He doesn’t shout at me again, but his cold, indifferent tone is worse, somehow. “I’ve been making decisions by myself for a decade. You don’t get to walk in here and fuck with me for fun.”

As if this emotional roller coaster is fun. I realize now that I’ve made a terrible mistake. He was never going to listen, and he still doesn’t give a damn. “So you’re going to sell to those sharks just to spite me? That’s an asshole move, even for you.”

His eyes bulge with fury, and then he does shout. “It’s not about you! I made a promise to Melody. I’m not going to break it just because you’re on a wild hair, remembering this place still exists.”

“It’s great to hear you’re loyal to someone, Dad.”

“Fuck you, Reed.”

My chest aches, and I wish I could rewind the last ten seconds. I’d been trying to take the high road and stay there. But Dad just brings out the worst in me. Maybe that’s a sign I shouldn’t have ignored.

This was never going to work.

“The thing about sharks,” he says, sticking the knife in even deeper, “is that they know how to survive. Look at the Sharpes—three generations, working together. I’m sure they’ll make it four and five and six. The mountain’s best chance is with them. Not you.”

“Wow.” I try to hold my poker face, so he won’t see how much that hurts me. This man always hurts me. I don’t know why I expected today to be any different. “Funny how you think it’s my fault your three sons aren’t standing here beside you.”

His face reddens. “That’s enough. Go home, already. I know just where you stand.”

I take another slow breath, but I already know it’s a lost cause. “Once you sign with Sharpe, it’s over. There’s no way to come back from this.”

“Exactly,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. And then I ask one final question. “You think this is what Mom would have wanted? You chasing me out of here forever?”

He clenches his fists. “That is low. And rich coming from you. Like she’d approve of your actions? Towards your brothers? Towards Ava?”

My heart shatters. “At least I’m still trying to come back.”

“Too late,” he says heavily. “Take your big ideas and go home.”

Having no real alternative, that’s what I do.





CHAPTER 28




LIKE WELL-TRAINED DANCERS





AVA My desk is just on the other side of the door, so of course I hear the whole thing.

I hear Reed tell his father that he’s going back to California very soon. Which I did not know. And just as the pain hits, I hear Mark yell at his son that he doesn’t trust him.

It just gets worse from there. And I can’t take it—two people I care about, tearing each other apart.

I leave the office and skitter toward the canteen, heart pounding. I pour myself a cup of coffee that I don’t really need, and I try not to panic.

“What’s the matter?” Callie asks me. She’s wearing outdoor gear and has a camera around her neck, ready to capture candid shots of opening weekend. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Not exactly,” I say, taking a gulp of coffee. “Unless Reed or his dad don’t survive the fight they’re having. I don’t know how it can end well.”

She flinches. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” I check over my shoulder to make sure nobody can hear me. But the only other occupant of the canteen is Sheila, tapping away at her keyboard at a table. “They want different things for the mountain, and I’m afraid Mark is too stubborn to listen to Reed.”

Callie’s eyes widen. “Are the new owners awful? Mountain gossip says they’re dismissive. Housekeeping says they’re bad tippers and that they leave blobs of toothpaste in the sink. And the bellhops claim the Sharpes collects venomous snakes. Not just on his neckwear, but in real life.”

I bark out a laugh. “I hope that last one is actually true, because it would make them more interesting.”

“What’s going to happen?” she whispers.

“I don’t know. It’s complicated.” That’s certainly true. “Mark wants to nail down the future of this place, but…” The sentence grinds to a halt, because there’s nothing more I can say without betraying confidences.