The Deal (Off-Campus, #1)(105)

He nods. “It won’t take long. I assure you, I only need a few minutes of your time.”

I don’t know if that’s a promise, or a threat.

Gulping, I pop into the back office to talk to Della, who signs off on a five-minute break after I tell her that my boyfriend’s father has something urgent to discuss with me.

The moment Mr. Graham and I step outside, I get the answer to that age-old promise vs. threat question—because his body language emits some serious menace.

“I bet you’re quite pleased with yourself.”

I frown. “What are you talking about?”

He shoves both hands in the pockets of his long black coat, and he looks so much like Garrett it’s actually kind of upsetting. But he doesn’t sound like Garrett, because Garrett’s voice isn’t this harsh, and Garrett’s eyes definitely don’t carry this much animosity.

“I’ve been with a lot of women, Hannah.” Mr. Graham laughs, but without an ounce of humor or a shred of warmth. “You think I don’t know what an ego boost it is for a woman when she has two men fighting over her?”

Is that what he thinks last night was about? That Garrett and Rob were fighting a duel for my love? Jesus.

“That’s not why they were fighting,” I say weakly.

His lips curl in a sneer. “Oh really? So the fight had nothing to do with you?” When I don’t answer, he laughs again. “That’s what I thought.”

I don’t like the way he’s looking at me with such blatant hostility. And I wish I hadn’t forgotten my gloves inside, because my hands feel like two blocks of ice.

I shove them in my pockets and meet his eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want you to stop distracting my son,” he says briskly. “Do you realize he’s facing a one-game suspension for that stunt? Because of you, Hannah. Because instead of concentrating on winning games, he’s panting over you like a puppy dog and fighting battles on your behalf.”

My throat tightens. “That’s not true.”

He takes a step closer and I’m genuinely frightened for a moment. I chastise myself for it, though, because come on, he’s not going to hurt me when we’re out in public. When the diner window is right behind me and anyone can see us.

“I see the way he looks at you, and I don’t like it. And I certainly don’t like that you’ve divided his attention. Which is why I’ve decided you’re no longer going to be seeing my son.”

I can’t stop a laugh of disbelief. “With all due respect, sir, but that’s not your decision to make.”

“You’re right. It’s going to be your decision.”

My stomach lurches. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re going to break up with my son.”

I gape at him. “Um…no. I’m sorry, but no.”

“I thought you’d say that. It’s all right. I’m confident I can change your mind.” Those cold, gray eyes bore into my face. “Do you care about Garrett?”

“Of course I do.” My voice cracks. “I love him.”

The confession brings a flash of annoyance to his eyes. He studies my face, then makes a derisive sound. “I believe you mean that.” He shrugs dismissively. “But that just means you want him to be happy, don’t you, Hannah? You want him to succeed.”

I have no idea where he’s going with this, but I know that I hate him for it.

“Do you want to know why he’s succeeding right now? What enables him to do that?” Mr. Graham smirks. “It’s because of me. Because my signature is on the tuition checks I send to Briar. He goes to school because of me. He buys his textbooks and pays for his booze because of me. His car? Insurance? Who do you think makes the payments for that? And his gear? The boy doesn’t even have a job—how do you think he’s able to live? Because of me.”

I feel sick. Because now I do know where he’s going.

“I generously allow him these luxuries because I know his goals align with mine. I know what he wants to achieve, and I know he’s capable of achieving it.” His jaw hardens. “But we’ve hit a little speed bump, haven’t we?”

He gives me a pointed stare, and yep, I’m the speed bump.

“So this is what’s going to happen.” His tone is deceptively pleasant. Garrett is right. This man is a monster. “You’re going to break up with my son. You won’t see him anymore, you won’t remain friends with him. This will be a clean break with absolutely no further contact. Do you understand?”

“Or what?” I whisper, because I need to hear him say it.

“Or I cut the boy off.” He shrugs. “Bye-bye tuition and books and cars and food. Is that what you want, Hannah?”

My brain snaps into overtime, rapidly running over my options. I’m not about to let some * blackmail me into ending things with Garrett, not when there are clearly other solutions available to us.

But I haven’t given Phil Graham enough credit, because apparently he’s not just a jerk, but a mind reader.

“You’re considering what will happen if you say no?” he guesses. “Trying to think of a way you can still be with Garrett without him losing everything he’s worked so hard for?” He chuckles. “Well, let’s see, shall we? He can always apply for financial aid.”