Page 58 of Without Regret

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Trevor

I was exhausted from not sleeping the night before. And any thoughts of taking a nap went out the door once I arrived home and saw all of the catering trucks and experienced the general buzz around the house. It had been years since I’d seen this kind of chaos. Back when my mom had been alive, she and my father would host annual Christmas parties for Dad’s employees and our neighbors and friends. Now the guests would mostly be people who could influence or contribute towards my father’s bid for mayor.

Not that I held the change of guest list to potential campaign donors against him. He was a well-liked guy, had good morals, and could do a lot of positive things for the city of Houston. But I hoped his expectations of me wouldn’t escalate if he got the job.

It wasn’t as if I’d started out completely averse to the idea of taking over his company. But over time, I’d realized it was a failing proposition. Not only did I have other interests, but also I’d feel constantly criticized. My dad cast a large shadow, and I didn’t wish to live in it. Considering his father had been a teacher, you’d think he could appreciate a son not following in his parent’s footsteps.

I sighed, walking into the pool house and smiling at my dog. He was taking up residence there since my father was home and wouldn’t chance a pooparoomba repeat, especially before the party.

If anything could perk you up, it was a dog’s face. “Come on, boy. Let’s go outside.”

I didn’t bother to change out of my suit before taking him out to the yard to relieve himself and get some exercise. Luckily, my sister had otherwise been taking him for walks this week.

“Please tell me you’ll be picking up after him.”

My father’s voice, which seemed perpetually critical, rang behind me.

As always, I deflected with sarcasm, turning to face him. “Nah. I figured the guests might enjoy playing a game of avoid-the-dog-shit after a few drinks.”

He shook his head, long accustomed to my humor. “Cute.”

My dad already looked the part of a politician. Gray at the temples of a full head of dark hair, light blue eyes, and features which had aged gracefully. He stood at the same height as me at six foot two and kept himself in good shape with both golf and tennis.

He came closer, clasping a hand on my shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “So, Phillip tells me y’all failed with this latest potential sale.”

And there it was. That poke implying I’d botched something. “The only thing that failed was the owner neglecting to inform us about a patent infringement case against him, something he’ll probably lose. And since he was an asshole hoping to let go most of his staff, I was happy we didn’t make the deal.”

My father might be blinded sometimes by his obsession over his company and politics, but he was a good man. One from whom I’d learned my values. “Problem is there are plenty more out there. A lot of men get to the top by stomping on the people who helped get them there.”

Wasn’t that the truth. At least my father hadn’t done it that way. No, he’d worked hard and treated people well along the way. “True.”

“How’s your sister holding up with this whole breakup?”

I quirked a brow that he’d be questioning me. “You could ask her yourself.”

He expelled a breath. “You know I don’t do well with tears. I worry about her. At least when she had Edward, I didn’t have to.”

I chuckled and threw the ball for Rufus. “He turned out to be a cheating, lying bastard, so perhaps there was more worry there than we thought.”

“You have a point. I didn’t see that coming. Not saying I want her to take him back. Quite the opposite. He may come from a good family, but the last thing I want is for my little girl to be disrespected by a cheater, especially one who cheated with her best friend.”

At least we could agree on something. “She’s stronger than she realizes. She’ll get there.”

He nodded. “Just like your mother was.”

There was an awkward pause as he looked out over his estate, apparently wistful and thinking about her now. So many of my friends’ fathers were on the 2.0 younger model wife. Most via divorce. But not even my mother’s death had spurred my father in that direction. I could say without a doubt he’d loved her. But unfortunately, her departure left something broken in him. Something that caused his wanderlust away from our childhood home and his narrow-minded focus on business. I suppose it was his way of coping. But for me, the very last thing I wanted was a life only fulfilled by my job.

“I have some people I’d like you to meet tonight. Please tell me you have a less wrinkled suit to wear.”

And bam. The spell was broken, and my father was back to all business. And I was back to making jokes.

“Yeah, I’m sure I can throw something in the dryer to look presentable.”

***

I watched the door like a stalker, waiting for Emma to arrive. After replaying our conversation from yesterday and thinking about her intentions, I was anxious to speak with her. I owed her an apology. It worried me that she might have already spun it up as a reason to break things off.

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