Page 97 of All Twerk, No Play

“Never stopped us before,” Richard replied.

A nurse in pale blue scrubs followed, pushing a wheelchair. “Time to get ready, Mr. Sinclair.”

“Where are we off to?”

“Your birthday party,” the nurse answered.

Richard seemed surprised, glancing outside at the party he didn’t want. When he pushed himself up shakily,Eric instinctively reached out, but Richard waved him off with a quiet dignity. “Good of you to visit. Not many take the time.”

He gave me one last look, then let the nurse help him into the wheelchair and roll him away.

The minute the door clicked closed, Dad held out his arms. “You look good, Princess.”

I endured his stiff hug as he whispered, “Who the hell is that?”

“Eric de la Cruz, my boyfriend.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blackstone,” Eric extended his hand.

Dad frowned at his forearm tattoos, ignoring the outstretched hand, which Eric dropped with a roll of his shoulders. Dad said to me, “When Beverly told me you brought someone, I expected Alexander.”

I sighed. Of course he hoped for that. The two of them hit it off at my B school graduation, drinking Scotch and debating about Yale vs Princeton. When Dad left San Francisco, he’d hugged Alexander tight and called him ‘son.’

“He’s just my business partner,” I said calmly. “We’re no longer romantically involved.”

“But wasn’t winning him back the reason you turned down the jobs I lined up for you?”

Of course he’d bring that up. When I got overlooked for a promotion at the law firm run by Dad’s college fraternity brother, he pulled strings to find me a job in Manhattan. He assumed I chose Saratoga to rekindle that relationship. And I’d let him believe that—maybe believed it myself—because it got him off my case.

Dad tilted his head towards Eric. “How old is he?”

“I’ll be 27 next month, sir,” Eric said, his jaw clenching when Dad didn’t bother turning to acknowledge him, which was really starting to piss me off.

“Robbing the cradle looks desperate.” Dad said, crossing his arms. “Did he sign an NDA?”

Jesus, I should have known he’d asked that. I lifted my chin. “No.”

“You let him speak to Richard without an NDA?”

“I won’t say anything, sir,” Eric said.

Dad ignored him. “You, of all people, should know better.”

“I trust him,” I said firmly, and Eric’s fingertips brushed my back. He was here to support me facing my elderly grandfather, and Dad was mad at me? I squared my shoulders. “And I wouldn’t have known what to include in the contract because you didn’t tell me how sick Richard was.”

“Would you have visited, had you known?” Dad said, calmly adjusting his cufflinks.

“Maybe if I’d—”

"You can’t have it both ways, Victoria. Not all of us have the luxury of running away.”

He thought escaping a toxic marriage was a luxury? My fists clenched, and he said, "Perhaps we should discuss this privately."

Of course he wanted to postpone the conversation, hide it away. But I wasn’t done.

“And you didn’t tell me Spencer would be here. He cornered me last night." I caught a flicker of surprise. Good. So he hadn’t orchestrated that particular ambush.

"He’s Richard’s brother-in-law, we can’t exactly exile him,” Dad said. "You were always too sensitive, Victoria. Bury the hatchet."

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