Page 101 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

“Daddy?”

After a moment, he snorted. “No, I didn’t touch her.”

My phone buzzed again, and my fingers twitched to retrieve it. Brooke and I had been texting, and I hated to make her wait for an answer, even if she did know I would be occupied all morning.

For the first time, my mother looked at my father. “Now is not the time to keep this to yourself, Kevin.”

His face went red, but he shook his head. “I didn’t touch her.”

Courtney and I exchanged a worried glance. Would he lie about this? She gave a small shrug before she spoke again. “Then an apology should be acceptable.” Courtney held up a finger. “However, if something more happened, Matthew Grant will come after us for enough money that you’ll have to sell the boat, the plane, or both.”

That was probably an exaggeration, but my father loved his rich-man toys. He used them to impress the other “tennis players,” and those playthings offered him a fair amount of freedom.

“He can’t do that,” my father grumbled.

“He can and he will,” Courtney said. “And you know it.” She shifted before continuing. “As William has pointed out, we don’t need this merger. It would be better to put it behind us, but Matthew may insist that we go through with it paying a higher price.”

I nodded. I’d spoken briefly with one of my VPs about what had happened, and he was sure that Matthew would force us to buy the company. Mostly because it wasn’t making him money, and this was a way it could be profitable for him.

“That’s absurd,” my father said.

“These are the facts we have to deal with,” I said. Then I added, “Because of your indiscretions.”

That got me a quick kick from Courtney from under the table. Her pointy-toed shoes would leave a mark for sure. I’d have to watch out for Brooke’s cowboy boots.

My father’s nostrils flared, but he kept his mouth shut. Money was the one language he understood. “You kids have no idea the kind of pressure I’m under.”

I stared flatly.

Courtney let out an unladylike snort. “Daddy, you haven’t done more than ten hours of work a week in five years. William and I have taken over practically everything.” Now I could tell she was getting irritated, and I didn’t blame her. Our father liked to remind her that even though she was as good or better at business than I was, she would never be the head of the corporation. President was a title that she wouldn’t get to carry.

It wasn’t expressly written anywhere that a woman couldn’t be in charge, but it was understood by everyone. Courtney had always hated that. Again, I didn’t blame her.

In this, I felt she was aligned with Brooke. Brooke also worked in a man’s world where she had to outperform everyone in order to be noticed and respected. The two of them were a force to be reckoned with. The world should watch out for them.

Our father shot to his feet. “I’m not going to sit here and take ridicule from my children.”

I mirrored his actions, surprising myself with the physical threat. I’d obviously spent too much time around Brooke because I spoke firmly, leaving no room for him to squirm out of the situation. “Father, this is what you’re going to do.” I placed my hands on the smooth tablecloth and leaned toward him. “You’re going to write up an apology—use your new secretary if you need help because I’m fairly certain that she’s a good resource on the matter—then you’re going to send it to both Courtney and me. We will review it, then we will escort you to meet this woman where you will give said apology, word for word. At that point, I will negotiate with Matthew Grant for a quick buyout of this mediocre real estate company. Then this will be behind us.”

My father blinked.

Courtney snorted again.

My mother took another bite of her breakfast as if we were talking about the weather.

“Your apology will be in my inbox in three hours.” I finally pulled my phone out to check the time. There was at least one text from Brooke, which I longed to open, but I held back and finished with my father. “That means before one o’clock this afternoon.” My eyes drifted to my father’s, which were flashing in anger. “Do you understand?”

My father’s hands shook, and his face had gone a deeper shade of red. He opened his mouth to speak, but Courtney held up her hand.

“Cancel your tennis match.” Her tone left no room for argument.

Our father let out a growl, threw his napkin down on the table, and stomped out of the room.

I found myself breathing hard. I also found myself…happy. Or maybe triumphant was a better term.

“Don’t you think that was a little harsh, children?” my mother asked.

Courtney stood and squeezed my arm. “Actually, I think it was perfect.” She smiled at me. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Someone has been around a good influence.” Her eyebrows bounced.

---