Page 43 of Destined To Fall

“He hired me as a consultant.”

Jeremy stares at me a long moment before opening his mouth to respond, but a waitress interrupts him.

“Hiya, can I get you all something to drink?”

“Scotch,” we say in unison.

Jeremy’s lip twitches, but the grin is gone before it begins, the tension between us as thick as ever. The waitress gives us both an uneasy smile and hurries off. I’m still waiting for Jeremy to say something, anything, but he just stares at me longer. The silence is killing me.

“Consultant?”

I nod.

“You expect me to believe my father hired you as a consultant without telling me?”

I shrug.

“The help the other night, not so out of the blue? That’s what you do?”

“You were in a pickle, and I had nothing better to do.”

“So what, you were a one-off, a singular occurrence, or is he putting you on the books?”

The accuracy of his question and double meaning isn’t lost on me or my sweating palms.“I can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“What are you getting at, Jeremy? What exactly are you asking me or accusing me of? Because from where I’m sitting, I don’t owe you anything.”

“Is he hiring you to replace me?”

I’m completely taken aback.“Replace you? Why would he want to replace his own son?”

“We don’t have the best relationship, my father and I, not for a long, long time. It’s not a stretch to think he’d want me gone, but I own part of the company. He’d have to buy me out, which I don’t know if he’s in a position to do.”

Oh, no.

“What? What’s that look?”

“Nothing. I don’t know what you think you saw because I don’t know anything, Jer. He’s never mentioned having children, never mentioned you, only ever talked about his wife.” I realize a second too late that I said the wrong thing.

“He…he told you about my mother? He talked about her with you?” The shock and pain ripples through his words.

“In passing…”

He says nothing, a million incoherent thoughts playing across his pain-filled eyes. I have this uneasy sensation building in the pit of my stomach and the unmistakable need to reach for Jeremy, to comfort him. His pain is like a gale-force wind continuing to crash into me. It’s too much.

“I’m sor—”

“Don’t.”

The waitress returns with our drinks, and Jeremy dismisses her with cash and a tight-lipped smile. I take my glass, noticing how my hand wavers ever so slightly. The minuscule tremor frustrates me. I grip the glass tightly, almost smashing it on my teeth in my haste for the respite the alcohol promises. I swallow half of it, but still nothing eases.

“Are you sleeping with him?”

For a minute, I think I heard him wrong. Did he really jump from me trying to steal his job to fucking his father? And people say I’m fickle-minded.

“I’m sorry?”

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