Page 51 of Stuck with Mr. Grump

But the worst lesson would be him tossing me aside. The only thing I would gain from that is the confirmation that I really am useless and undeserving of my last name.

“I’m not going to stop you from returning to the company, Sterling,” Sebestian says after a short silence. “Ask yourself if you deserve to return.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw. “Of course I deserve to return.”

“Really?” he questions, arching an eyebrow. “You might not be aware of it, Sterling, but you’ve always had an inferiority complex. I’ve watched you struggle with your position as a Harrington. You worked ten times harder than everyone else—why?”

“What?” I grit out.

He sighs. “I’m sure you’ll find the answers to these questions on your own. When you do, come and find me and then we’ll talk.”

“Wait, how’s Spencer doing?”

My grandfather chuckles at that. He’s always had a soft spot for my brother, the old sap. It’s always been blatantly obvious considering the amount of shit that Spencer’s pulled in the past couple of years and how he’s never been kicked out or disowned.

“He’s doing his best,” he finally replies.

But Spencer’s best is never enough. He knows it, Grandfather knows it, the entire fucking world knows it.

“Your parents are back. I’m sure they’re on their way to Edenton as we speak,” he informs me.

My lips thin and I feel my heart speed up at that, “Great,” I say unenthusiastically. “Goodbye, Grandfather.”

He nods once and then the screen grows blank. Once it does, I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face. It seems I’m in for a very long day. After several boring meetings and a lot of paperwork to begin work on the site, I finally clock out of work.

Emilia practically raced out the door as soon as I said she was free to go. It’s pretty obvious she’s avoiding a situation where I’d offer her a ride. The two of us being in close quarters is a bad idea, so it’s good that she’s doing her best to avoid me. Hell, I wouldn’t want to be in close quarters with myself right now.

The drive home is shorter than I would have liked. Because I already know what I’m going to find once I arrive at the mansion.

I hear my father’s voice before I see him. A couple of steps lead me to the living room. He’s on his knee in front of Sean, laughing heartily as he listens to what my son is saying.

“And I want a train set and Lego blocks and the third Harry Potter book,” Sean lists.

My dad chuckles, while my eyebrows lift.

“That’s a lot of requests for a tiny man,” I state, announcing my presence as I walk into the room.

Sean’s eyes widen and he avoids eye contact as I lower myself into the couch behind him and my dad.

“Hey, son,” my dad greets.

I offer him a small smile before turning to my son. “I thought we agreed you would stop demanding gifts, bud. You have enough toys and books,” I say firmly to the little boy who now has a sheepish expression on his face.

He and I have had a conversation about this before. But he knows my dad’s a big softie who will immediately get him whatever he asks for.

“Relax, Ster,” Dad says on a laugh. “He’s allowed to ask for more toys.”

“He has enough,” I repeat. “You’re excused, Sean. Go to your room. I’ll come in a bit to tuck you in.”

I don’t miss the small wink my dad shoots Sean’s way, right before he runs out of the room. And then I’m left alone with my father. He rises to his feet, standing tall in front of me. He’s about six foot two, and when I was younger that used to make me feel like he was a giant.

He felt like that at times. A giant that was desperately trying to protect me from everyone who tried to make my life harder. And I know he did his best with regard to that, but sometimes there was nothing to do. Because he didn’t have any power.

“Don’t buy him any of the toys, Dad,” I reiterate once Sean’s gone.

He sighs before taking a seat beside me. He’s wearing frayed jeans and a t-shirt. An extremely simply attire. Anyone looking at him would have a hard time believing he’s the first son of a business tycoon. His dark hair is longer than I remember, almost to his shoulders. Wild and free, just like my father.

“Alright fine, sergeant. But you can at least allow me to buy him his Harry Potter book?” he questions. “Or are you against reading as well?”

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