Surprise Delivery(99)

But Duncan just sits there and looks at me.

“Are you going to sign this?” he asks, pointing at the contract.

“What do you think?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he says. “Henry’s really dangling a nice carrot out there.”

“If you think I’d seriously consider it, you don’t know me at all, Duncan.”

“I thought I did know you, Alexis,” he snaps. “And I never thought you’d be the kind of person who would lie to me about my own daughter.”

I wince as if his words had the force of a physical blow. Though they’re just words, they sting like hell all the same – mostly because he’s right. And the truth hurts.

“I’m sorry, Duncan,” I tell him. “What I did is inexcusable. Please know that it didn’t come from a place of malice. It came from a place of fear.”

“I still don’t know what I’ve ever done that’s made you so fearful of me,” he says. “Please, help me understand this, Alexis.”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing you did,” I sigh. “It’s not you. It’s stupid and irrational, but it’s because of a life spent watching people with money get one over on those without. It’s because of a life spent watching the haves take everything from the have-nots.”

A smile touches his lips as he looks at the floor beneath his feet. Duncan runs his hand through his hair, then finally lifts his head and looks at me. There’s an inscrutable look on his face – one tinged with amusement. It worries me.

“What? What are you smiling about?” I ask.

“It’s just – I had a conversation with my mother yesterday,” he explains. “And she said just about verbatim everything you’re saying now. She told me all about what it’s like when you have nothing, but fear everything. She said you feared having the one thing in your life that means everything being stripped from you.”

“She sounds like a woman who’s been in my position before,” I probe, a small flicker of hope blossoming within me.

Duncan nods. “She was,” he says. “She and my father had nothing when they started. They struggled for years before his firm started turning it around. So yeah, she knows what it’s like to be in your shoes.”

He falls silent for a moment and just runs his hand through the stubble on his jawline. He looks like he’s thinking about something – probably something his mother said. Hopefully something she said, since it sounds like his mother is the voice of reason in all of this.

“I came over here with a head of steam, Alexis. I was going to tear you a new one,” he admits. “I was ready to have a knock-down, drag-out fight about all of this. What you did makes me so angry that I can hardly see straight, let alone think clearly.”

“Believe me, I understand your anger, Duncan. I’m ashamed of what I did, and I’m so sorry I did it. I truly am,” I say.

He nods. “I know you are.”

He’s still avoiding my eyes and I can still tell he’s angry, which is understandable. But, there’s something more at play here. Something is keeping him from giving me the verbal lashing I know I deserve for what I did – and it makes me curious.

“Can I ask what changed?” I ask. “Can I ask why you’re not blowing me up right now?’

He finally looks up, a rueful smile on his face. “A few things, actually.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the fact that the moment you opened the door and I looked into your eyes, all of the steam I came over here with evaporated,” he says. “Seeing your face reminded me that I love you, Alexis. And because I do, I at least owed you the chance to explain yourself.”

As I listen to him speak, the cold stone in my stomach starts to lighten, if only a bit. The dark and oppressive air that’s been pressing down on me begins to lift, and that flicker of hope in my breast becomes an ember. I know we’re not out of the woods just yet – not by a long shot – but, I’m hopeful that we’re at least on the path there.

“Also, everything my mother said to me yesterday has been echoing through my head,” he continues. “And when you started saying some of the exact same things she did, about your fears, it made me realize she wasn’t just pandering to me because she’s obsessed with having a grandchild. She’s been where you are, and what she told me is genuinely her own hard-won experience. She told me to not judge you too harshly or be upset. Because of my own upbringing, I’d never be able to truly understand or relate to what you’re going through or feeling.”

She’s right, he’ll never understand. He grew up wanting for nothing. He never had to experience any of the hardships I did, nor can he ever understand the fear of losing everything to the whims of somebody in a financially and socially superior position. He can sympathize, but he’ll never truly understand it.

“And the last thing is seeing that contract,” he says.

“What about it?” I ask.

“You didn’t sign it.”

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t.”

“If this were a play for the money, you would have signed it without a second thought,” he says. “I mean, Henry is offering you the moon.”