Page 95 of Why Not Both?

Matthew returns and pauses, noticing the change in placements. He looks directly at me and gives me a brief smile before setting out the food. He pours Spencer some water and then leaves us again.

“So, has Vicky started to see any returns on that place yet?”

“Dad,” Spencer protests.

“I’m just thinking about you, son. I want you to be well-established. And working there isn’t going to provide the life you need. You’re thirty years old. You shouldn’t be working for someone else. You should be working for yourself.”

“Actually,” I interject. “I think this is Blue Vista’s most successful year yet. I know we’ve been incredibly busy.”

I turn to Spencer for confirmation.

He nods. “We have twice the number of weddings this year over last year. We’re already fully booked for next summer, and we’ve been discussing opening a second venue. Maybe something in Burnaby or Ladner.”

“But you only own ten per cent of the business,” Beckett says. “You’re hardly in a position to help make decisions.”

My blood boils. The words coming out of this man’s mouth make me want to stab him. Maybe just the hand or the leg. Somewhere I wouldn’t kill him. Assaults carry lesser charges than murders, right? But I clench my teeth, keeping my smile in place. Spencer is so stiff beside me that one wrong move and I’m afraid he’s going to snap.

Spencer inhales a deep breath. “As I’ve explained before. I may only own ten per cent, but we make operational decisions together. We’re a team.”

Beckett rolls his eyes as though he doesn’t believe what Spencer is telling him. “At least you’ve been investing your money well. Though I will never understand why your mother decided to leave it to you separately instead of including it in the trust I’m holding for you.”

I’m about to make some smart ass comment—possibly something like, You mean the trust fund you refuse to give him?—when Spencer reaches for his glass of water. But instead of drinking some, he shifts the glass toward me.

I recognize the gesture immediately and turn toward his father. “Hey, Beck, have you ever hiked the Grouse Grind?”

“Excuse me?”

“The Grouse Grind. Spencer made me do it with him about two months ago. Honestly, it is absolute torture. I haven’t forgiven him for making me trek up that thing. Though he did follow through and go running with me after.”

Under the table, I touch Spencer’s arm, trailing my fingers along it until I can reach his hand. I lace our fingers together and he squeezes tightly.

“It’s excellent exercise. The Grouse Grind, I mean. And the views from the top?” I shake my head. “Spectacular. Though I told Spencer, next time, he can hike it and I’m going to ride the gondola up. Did you know you can have breakfast with the bears? There’s two of them up there.” I launch into a full-on infomercial for the restaurant on Grouse Mountain where you can have breakfast during the two rescued grizzlies’ feeding time. I don’t stop talking long enough for Beckett to try to chime in or change the subject. When I finish talking about the grizzlies, I move on to talk about the zip lining adventure they have, followed by information about the Christmas event they host in the winter.

I contain my sigh of relief when the phone rings and Beckett stands to answer it, moving across the room to talk. I’d begun to run low on Grouse Mountain tourism facts.

“Grouse Mountain?” Spencer says when his father is out of earshot.

I shrug. “I’ve been looking it up in case you try to drag me up there again.”

He huffs a laugh.

“Are you doing okay?”

“What makes you think I’m not okay?”

“Well, you’re squeezing my hand hard enough that my bones are creaking.”

He looks down, startled, and immediately releases my fingers. “I’m sorry.”

I grab his hand again, squeezing him just as hard. “Don’t be. I’m right here.”

He searches my eyes and I wonder if he’s about to kiss me when Beckett returns.

“That was the office. I have to go in.”

“Now?” Spencer says. “Today?”

“Emergencies don’t wait for convenient times, Spence. You would know this if you ran your own company.”