Page 11 of Big Bold Gambler

“I prefer to stand.” He closes the door and steps into the middle of the room with his arms crossed.

“Right, I’m sure you’re sick of sitting after the plane ride,” I reply casually, leaning back in my chair.

“Something like that,” Patrick sneers, eyes tracking my every movement. I’m not stupid. He has something big on his chest and considering there’s only one way I’ve wronged him, I have an idea of what it is.

“So, what’s this you wanted to talk to me about?” I prompt, not caring for the way he’s leering at me.

“Saw something weird on my cameras that I wanted to ask you about.” There it is. The confirmation I needed to know that this was about Jeannie and what I’ve been up to while he was away.

“Not sure why that concerns me.” Deciding to play dumb instead of playing my hand, I know better than to reveal everything. Whatever he says will dictate how I react.

“Mm,” he hums, a sinister look flashing over him. I’ve only ever seen that directed at other people, never at myself. I understand now why people would crack under pressure from him. “Itdoesconcern you, Maxwell. Because I got alerts everysingle day about a visitor, and when I went to check,youwere the visitor. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.”

“Hm.”

His eye twitches. For a moment, I think that he’s going to launch across the room and hit me. That’s not in his nature, though. I’ve seen this man keep his cool in much higher stakes situations. Still, there’s a dangerous air around him that puts me on edge.

“So, Maxwell,” he says, my name sounding like a curse in his mouth, “do you want to explain why you were coming over and visiting my daughter?”

“I was just checking up on her,” I reply, not letting him intimidate me. “All alone in that big house. I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“That’s funny.” There’s not a hint of humor in his tone. “I don’t remember asking you to do that.”

“Consider it a favor to a friend,” Raising an eyebrow, I cross my arms to mirror his stance. I feel exposed sitting here, but standing would be a sign of weakness and discomfort. I need to keep playing this as casually as I can.

He laughs but he doesn’t sound amused. It’s derisive and hateful. Then, he snarls, “So you think that fucking my daughter is doing me a favor.”

“Who said that’s what I was doing over there?” I challenge. “I was just keeping her company.”

I’m bullshitting. He knows it. I know it. But, I don’t much like the way he’s making the whole thing sound. I wasn’t just‘fucking’ his daughter. I was cherishing her. Getting to know her. The way he cheapens it is getting under my skin in a way things usually don’t.

“Don’t play stupid with me,” he says before taking a deep breath. Clearly, he’s having trouble keeping himself under control. “I saw how you were looking at her on her birthday. Sure, you were keeping her company, but I doubt that it was innocent.”

“And if it wasn’t?”

“You know better than to play with me,” Patrick replies as he takes a step toward me. If I were a lesser man, I’d flinch.

“I think you’re forgetting that your daughter is an adult and can make her own decisions,” I challenge, lifting an eyebrow. “And I stand by what I said before. I was keeping an eye on her while you were–”

“Just tell me the truth,” he says, the last vestiges of patience gone from his voice. “Are you seeing my daughter?”

Part of me wants to deny, to double down, but Patrick’s right. I know better than to play with him. He’s tired of this run around that I’m trying to give him. If I don’t come clean, things might get ugly. Better to come clean because the consequences of continuing to skirt the truth will be worse that whatever’s coming.

“I am,” I acquiesce with a confidence that I’m sure grates on him. “But she came to me first. I didn’t go sniffing after her.”

“You’re a sick man, Maxwell,” he spits. Another step forward. I grit my teeth.

“Is it sick that I genuinely care about her?” I demand. “Is it sick that I want to spoil her and give her everything she deserves in life?”

“Why would she need you when I’m able to provide for her?” he says, a vein in his forehead coming to the surface. “And I’m never going to hurt her the way I know you will.”

“I’m not the same person I was in New York,” I reply as I cock my head to the side. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s capable of maturing and changing?”

“No, I don’t think I’m the only one capable of growth,” Patrick says, cracking his knuckles in a display that’s clearly meant to intimidate me. “But I think that your record speaks for itself. You were a playboy. You left women wondering what they did wrong. That’s fucked up. I absolutely won’t let you do that to my daughter.”

“The way she makes it sound, you keep her away from everyone,” I throw back, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “You know you can’t keep her locked up at home for the rest of her life. Like I said before, Patrick. She’s an adult. She deserves the freedom to date who she wants.”

Patrick grunts, and I’m sure that I’ve got him. He’s always had a protective, possessive streak. He needed constant reminding that his late wife was her own person who was allowed to have her own friends and interests. It seems like he’s doing the exact same thing with Jeannie.

---