Page 21 of Hell to Pay

The first half of the dinner was surprisingly pleasant. Lilah asked a lot of questions about my mom’s garden, and my mom was more than happy to give detailed answers. Lilah asked Luke how he spent his time when he wasn’t working and even seemed interested when he told her about his passion for sailing and golf.

My mom coaxed my dad to talk about a few of his most recent deals and he warmed to the topic when Lilah asked pointed questions that gave him a reason to keep talking.

By the time dessert was served — flourless chocolate hazelnut cake with vanilla whipped cream — I was beginning to think we were going to get out without a major incident. Everyone was on their best behavior, in no small part thanks to Lilah, and I almost started to relax and enjoy myself.

Then my dad cleared his throat. “Bill Masterson is retiring next month.”

“You remember Bill, don’t you, honey?” my mom asked me. “He used to come to the Fourth of July party with his wife, Julie. They have a daughter your age?”

“Hannah.” I used my fork to cut off a bite of the cake. “I remember.”

I couldn’t quite picture her, but I remembered her as one of the kids that ran around the property while our parents tried to pretend they were sober during our annual Fourth of July parties. I think Luke had a crush on her at some point.

“They’re moving to Portugal,” my dad said.

“Wow, that’s a cool way to retire.” The cake was actually really good.

“Luke and his team are going to take over Bill’s portfolio,” my dad said. “Which means Luke’s portfolio will need a new manager, a new team.”

And there it was. The real reason I’d been invited to dinner.

“Sounds like a great opportunity for someone,” I said, still hoping I was wrong.

“Actually,” my dad said, “I was thinking it would be the perfect way for you to finally join the firm.”

I took a drink of my coffee and considered my words. Things were going well. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d all had such a pleasant dinner together.

“I’m happy with the work I’m doing now,” I said. “But I appreciate you thinking of me.”

My dad set down his fork, his gaze hardening. He looked suddenly older and at the same time more formidable. “When exactly are you going to put a stop to this foolishness?”

I felt Lilah stiffen next to me. There was no way to tell her not to worry, that I was practiced in having many versions of this very same conversation with my dad.

“And by foolishness I assume you mean my work?” I asked.

“If by ‘work' you mean gallivanting all over the world, playing soldier and doing whatever nonsense you’re doing to avoid being responsible,” my dad said.

He’d never been ballsy enough to call my work nonsense when I’d been active duty. He hadn’t agreed with my decision to join the military, but he’d known better than to imply that it wasn’t real work, important work.

But since I’d been discharged, since I’d gone into business with Rafe and Nolan, my dad was a lot more liberal with his criticism. I tried to be patient, to see it from his point of view. I’d been vague in explaining the work we did, but he got the picture that we were essentially mercenaries who took violent, dangerous work from the highest bidder.

I was pretty sure there weren’t many parents out there who dreamed about their kids growing up to do what Rafe, Nolan, and I did for a living, which was why I usually tried to let it roll off my back.

Except this time Lilah was here, and we’d just come back from getting her out of a situation that might have ended her life, and that seemed pretty fucking important.

“I don’t expect you to approve of what I do,” I said. “Or even to understand it. But itiswhat I do, and that’s not going to change anytime soon.”

“When exactly are you going to grow up?” Luke’s question was accompanied by a sneer.

I was still formulating an answer — one that addressed the obvious absurdity of the fact that the question had been asked by someone who’d been born with a silver spoon up his ass, someone who’d never done a single uncomfortable thing — when Lilah spoke at my side.

“Do you even know what Jude does?” She put down her fork and shook her head, then stared at her plate and inhaled a deep shuddering breath before continuing, voice soft but words pointed. “He helps people. Hesavespeople. And he risks his own life to do it. I’m… I’m sorry. I’m a guest here, and I don’t want to be rude, but it seems pretty fucking rude to say that someone who risks his life for other people needs to grow up when you spend your life behind a desk. And the thing is, that’s fine. It doesn’t seem like Jude judges you at all for your choices. So why are you judging him?”

I saw the flash in my dad’s eyes and thought I should have stopped her, should have warned her, but that only lasted about two seconds.

Because fuck that.

Lilah had the right to speak her mind, here and everywhere. Maybe she felt like she hadn’t had a voice before, but she had one now, and I was fucking proud of her for using it, even if it did set fire to the dinner with my family.

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