Page 53 of A Sip of Sherry

The words were on my tongue, but the strength wasn’t in my soul.Standing up to my father put Sherry at risk.

“So what will it be?”Dad asked, but the smirk in his tone told me he already knew.

“Give me time.”

“I’ve already given you six fucking months!”He slammed his hand on the desk, papers and pens scattered.

“I need more time.These people you are so set on ruining just so you can extend your empire?They do everything by the fucking book.It’s been impossible to find something on them.”

“You aren’t trying hard enough.Keep your dick in your pants and your head in the game.Everybody has secrets.It’s your job to dig, and if you don’t find a way, then make one.”

Any hope I had that there was a line he would not cross vanished.

Fury raged through me, curling my lip in disgust at the man that paraded himself around like a man who loved family instead of the man who didn’t think twice about trying to destroy a family’s legacy.“You want me to frame them?Fabricate a scandal?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“You’d destroy a family, their legacy, for what?”For your own pride?”

“Man has killed for less.”

“You’re pathetic.”

“And you’re still standing here, so what does that make you?”

Ice spread through me, washing away the fire.I wasn’t angry anymore; it was a wasted emotion on this man.You couldn’t fight fire with fire, but ice?He wanted to be cold, then I could be colder.“You’re right.”I leaned toward him, hands on the desk.“Everybody has secrets.”

“Glad you’re finally seeing things clearly,” he said, raising his glass.

“Yeah, and you better hope yours never come out.”

I sauntered toward the door, taking my time, letting my words settle in.He wanted to play games, fine.But I was ready to flip his board and make my own damn rules.

As I got to the door, I stopped and turned.“By the way.Next time you send idiots to sabotage your competitor?Tell them not to leave footprints in the wine.It’s sloppy.I’d expect better from you.”

Game on, asshole.

***

The bottles at the warehouse wasn’t the only mess I had to clean up.I pushed Sherry away because I didn’t want to drag her into the black cloud that was my life, but the truth was, I was stronger with her in my life.I would have never stood up to my father the way I did before I met her, which is exactly why I was in this current predicament.

I didn’t want my father to use her against me, or to hurt her or her family in any way, but I knew my father.I knew the sick, twisted lengths he would go to in order to get what he wanted.I could tell him Sherry meant nothing to me, but that wouldn’t stop him from using her.She was in his sights, and now she was an easy target.At least if we were together, I could keep an eye on her.Protect her.

Distance wouldn’t keep her safe, not from a man like my father who didn’t respect boundaries.He saw the crack in my façade.I could have just given Sherry what she wanted, but no, I couldn’t seem to keep her at arm's length.I just wanted her all the fucking time, and it killed me every time she pulled away.Yet, I pulled away this time, and she got mad at me… she had every right to.

Because I didn’t just pull away.I shut her out.

She didn’t trust me now, and I didn’t blame her.I wanted to tell her the truth—God, I did.But fear had a way of silencing even the strongest voices.I’d already let it win once; I wouldn’t let it again.After the wedding, when everything she worked so hard for was exactly as she dreamed, I’d tell her everything.No more lies.No more shadows.Just the truth.

Even if it meant losing her

Chapter 18

Sherry

After a few bumps in the road, the garden club brunch went off without a hitch.Even Tabitha Singleton had nice things to say about the food and wine pairings the next day, and that ancient woman never had anything good to say.So I took it as a victory and reminded myself as I dove headfirst into the Carmichael wedding.

My eyes scanned over all the notes Domenique had sent me in a hundred-and-thirty-two-page email attachment.My printer ran out of ink.She sent me every idea she ever had since she was five, which resulted in an incohesive mess of ideas and no actual direction.

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