Page 18 of Always Knew It Was You

I stare at the old man incredulously. Who knew he was such a romantic?

“It’s not like I haven’t been looking to settle down, Grandpa,” I lie because I have not. “It’s just that it’s so hard to find a good woman these days.”

Because I’ve wronged them all.

“Good women are not to be found in the crowd that you frolic with,” Grandpa says sternly. “You only hang out with riffraff and nobodies who have nothing to lose. Women from good families have the breeding necessary to help you grow and raise good children. That’s who you need to be meeting.”

“Right,” I say even though I wholly disagree. It would be pointless to argue. My grandfather, despite being a generally nice guy, is also a raging classist.

“I can introduce you to some of them. The country club is holding a mixer and a lot of single high-society women will likely be in attendance.”

I have a distinct idea of the type of women he’s talking about and nearly feel my dick shrivel up and die.

“Ah, no you don’t have to do that, sir. Actually, I kind of already have someone I’m seeing.”

My grandfather’s eyes flash with interest. “Is she from a good family?”

“Yes,” I say because if I’m going to lie about my fake girlfriend, I might as well make her the perfect one, right? “A very good family. Things have been getting serious between us so… yeah. Very stable.”

His eyes study me and I try to look as innocent as can be.

“I want to meet her.”

“What?”

“Since things are getting serious it would only make sense for me to meet her and ensure she’s the right woman for you. Choosing the right woman is harder than running a business. So if I see she’s the right one, then perhaps I’ll have more faith in your decisions. Then you may have my support.”

“And that’s when he all but told me I had to get married for him to give me the loan,” I say. “Can you believe it?”

It’s a few days later and I’m back in Laketown lying on Declan’s office couch, ranting about my problems. The couch is soft imported wool, smells like a lavender cleaning product, and it’s immensely comfortable. I should know since I spend a lot of time here lately, at least whenever I’m in Laketown.

Declan is at his desk reading something on his computer and doesn’t respond to the end of my story. I frown.

“Declan, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, you’re really hard to tune out.”

I smile. “That’s only because you care, buddy.”

He gives me a sour look and I wink in return.

I’ll be honest, the only reason I tolerate the frequent trips to Laketown is because of Declan. Annoying him is quickly becoming my number one source of enjoyment.

Mostly though, I’m here to throw my dad off my scent and trick him into thinking that I’m being compliant with his order. I know he monitors my movement. If I spend enough time in Laketown, he’ll think I’m helping Declan with the hotel opening and won’t see the next part of my scheme coming.

But a plus of this arrangement is that I get to rant to Declan for hours and he will only throw me out when Emma comes in–although frequently Emma actually wants to listen to my rant. She’s nice like that.

Declan isn’t as nice, as he has a stick up his ass the size of a baseball bat, but I’m used to his brand of cranky. In a lot of ways, he reminds me of my brother.

I brush away the thought as someone knocks on Declan’s door.

“Come in,” he says and a large man in a long flannel coat walks in. He spots me and raises an eyebrow. I give him a fake salute before he turns to Declan.

“Erm, boss, there’s a problem.” Sweat is beaded on the man’s forehead and he wipes it off with a handkerchief.Who the hell sweats in fifty-degree weather?

But as sweaty as he is, he doesn’t take off his coat.

“When is there not a problem, Hal?” Declan sighs. “What is it this time?”

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