Brave Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #3)(26)
“Oh, so that’s what this is about. You’re not nearly as upset that I’m engaged to someone else and didn’t tell you as you are about the fact that he’s not up to your high standards. Is that it?”
“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy here. I’m just trying to do what’s best for you, for our family. Like I always have. I’ve never been selfish and I didn’t raise you to be selfish.”
“God!” I say in exasperation. “Why is it so horrible, so unthinkable, so incredibly selfish to want to marry for love? This is America, right? Arranged marriages did go out with the cavemen, right?”
“It’s not like Michael is some kind of barbarian who will treat you poorly, Weatherly. For chrissake, he’s worth four hundred million dollars and he’d see to every comfort you could ever even dream of.”
“But that’s not all there is to it, is it, Dad? This isn’t about what Michael can do for me.”
His eyes narrow on me. “I’ve worked my whole life, made sacrifices you’ll never know anything about to build this business into what it is today. And the instant someone threatens it, threatens the very foundation of who we are as a family, and you can do something to help, this is how you respond.”
“Don’t be so dramatic! This isn’t about our safety or our freedom. This is about money. And power. Plain and simple. If Randolph Consolidated takes over, you’ll be out and that’s eating you alive.”
“You listen to me, young lady, I will not have my daughter marry a common laborer just because she doesn’t agree with my politics. Let’s not forget, darling, that it’s my business, my money that has funded your precious charity all this time.”
“Which you’ve refused to continue helping as a means of extorting me into doing what you want.”
“Make no mistake, Weatherly, if you want to play hardball, I can exert much more pressure than just pulling your trust fund. Don’t tangle with me, young lady. I didn’t get to where I am without learning how to bend people to my will when it suits my purposes.”
I feel my chin tremble. How has it come to this? That he is so uninterested in me as a person, as his child, that he would seek to hurt me just to get what he wants? I’ve always known I was nowhere near the top of his list of priorities, but that he would play dirty with me, his own flesh and blood? I guess I never knew just how low I fell on that list. “I’m sorry that this particular pawn has grown up to be such a disappointment to you, father. I thought you’d eventually see it my way because you love me and you want me to be happy. I can see now how very wrong I was.”
With that, I turn on my heel, fling open the study doors and make my way back out to the dining room. “Tag, can I have a word please?” I say from the doorway.
He’s in the middle of a sip of wine. He sets down his glass and pushes away from the table. “Of course.” He turns to nod at Michael. “Stromberg.”
“Barton,” he cuts back, disdain dripping from his voice.
Tag grins at me as he approaches. To be the caretaker of a vineyard, he sure seems to hold his own with people like my father pretty well.
I don’t say anything when he reaches me. I simply turn and make my way toward the kitchen. I can’t hear Tag’s soft footfalls, but I know he’s behind me. I can feel his silvery eyes traveling the length of my back and butt as I walk. I stop by the fridge for the dish of leftovers from lunch. I hand them to Tag so that I can grab a bottle of wine and two glasses as we pass.
Wordlessly, I make my way out the back door and around to the Jeep, which is still parked in the driveway. I climb into the passenger side and look back at Tag, who is standing a few feet away, watching me. “Well? You got me into this. The least you can do is get me out of here.”
He holds my eyes for a few seconds, long enough for me to feel guilty about lashing out at him when he was only trying to help, but then he nods and walks around to the driver’s side and climbs in.
“Where are we going?” he asks, setting the dish of food on the console between us.
“How about that half-finished cabin with the great view? I’d like to wake up to that sunrise in the morning.”
“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” he asks with a knowing grin, repeating his earlier phrase.
“Yeah, it’s like that,” I answer.
“I’ve heard stories about girls with daddy issues. I hear they can be pretty wild.” There’s a playful glint in his eyes that eases my tension. I feel the tightness that had gathered between my shoulder blades melt away like a sliver of ice in the hot sun.
“Maybe we can get that four-wheeler out later tonight.”
The smile he gives me is bright enough to light up the darkening sky. “Woman, I gotta hand it to you. You brought your daddy issues to the right guy.” Tag gives me a wink as he fires up the engine. I lean my head back, content to watch him drive. It only takes me a few seconds to realize that I feel a little better already. William O’Neal has never made me a priority. Why should I give him so much room to hurt me?
As we pass the rows that we crossed over during the rain last night, I feel the throb of memory begin low in my belly. Meeting Tag might be the thing that saves me. Nothing has ever distracted me from my life as much as he does. His face, his grin, his kiss—they seem to be lurking around the edges of my mind all the time now. And when I let him in, he can easily crowd out other things that I worry about. He’s a powerful influence.