Page 33 of Below Deck Billionaire
The brief flattening of his lips in her peripheral vision told Tiffany exactly what Theo thought about her father’s emotional blackmail, but he was obviously trying to be measured in his response. ‘That was not very nice of him.’
‘No, it wasn’t.’
Tiffany still remembered the anguish of the time. She remembered the shock of her discovery and the realisation her father was actually just a man like any other, a mere mortal. It had been a bit like when Trapper had told her at the age of six that Santa wasn’t real, except multiplied by infinity.
‘But I did what he asked. He’d assured me it had been a one-off and ultimately, I couldn’t countenance the thought of my mother, of anyone, knowing the truth about my father.’ It had been hard enough for her to bear. ‘Except I soon realised that Mrs Garrity wasn’t the only woman he was screwing. I’d see him with other women at district functions, or he’d be talking at the dinner table about some landowners meeting or other he was going to, or some cattle auction or a business trip to Darwin, and he’d wink at me like I knew what was going on and it was our little secret.’
The sharp twist in her gut was almost as visceral as it had been during those few years she’d been ensnared in her father’s web of infidelity, the hot coil of dread like a lead weight in her stomach, and she hadn’t realised she’d been wringing her hands until the fingers of his left hand were lacing through the fingers of her right.
So caught up in the past was she, she stared at his long strong fingers for a beat, trying to comprehend why they were there. It was such an unexpected gesture. Not sexual or flirty despite the continued buzz of awareness coursing through her body. It was… comforting. And just what she needed.
‘Your mother found out?’ he prompted.
‘Yes. I don’t even know how. But there was an almighty row and, when playing down his sexploits didn’t work, he tried to tell her she was overreacting. He told her that I knew about it and didn’t have any issues so why should she?’
His thumb set up a soothing tempo rubbing rhythmically along the back of her hand.
‘She felt I had betrayed her.’
‘You were twelve.’ His voice was almost a growl. ‘And even if you’d been a fully grown adult, your father’s actions were on him, not on you.’
Tiffany shrugged. ‘I guess it’s easier to lash out and blame someone else than confront the fact your husband couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.’
He didn’t say anything then, just lifted their joined hands, and Tiffany’s gaze snared on him as he pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. It was sweet and made her chest ache and, absurdly, she wanted to turn, she wanted to slide her hands inside his jacket and around his waist and snuggle.
Theo wasn’t her boss right now. He was another human being offering comfort.
‘She left?’ he asked, their eyes meeting, the warmth of his breath playing over her knuckles.
Tiffany nodded. ‘She left. And I stayed until I was so resentful people were tiptoeing around us like we were unexploded bombs. Then I went travelling and eventually found myself on a cruise ship.’
‘And the Top End’s loss is our gain.’
She smiled at the wry humour in his tone and part of her wanted to stay up on deck with him for the rest of the night, but she knew she was too emotionally vulnerable right now and she’d probably already told him too much.
‘Anyway.’ Tiffany disentangled. ‘It’s late…’ They stared at each other for a beat before she smiled and said, ‘See you tomorrow.’
He nodded and turned back to the view as she gathered her laptop and departed.
12
Two days later, Theo was twirling in his ergonomically designed chair in his office still thinking about what Tiffany had told him on the sky deck. About where she came from and her brother’s art. And her parents and the divorce.
Her father’s emotional blackmail. Her mother scapegoating.
Even now, the slow simmer of rage that fizzed to life in his gut wasn’t far from boiling over. Tiffany had been twelve. And everything she’d believed about her life had been ripped out from under her. Dark as it had been, he’d seen the devastation in her expression and heard it in her voice. A faint streak of disbelief, like even all these years later, she couldn’t comprehend how it had all gone so badly, so quickly.
Sure, in the grand scheme of shitty things that can happen to people, a messy divorce at a pivotal age with parents who’d abdicated the blame onto their kid was very much a first-world problem. But that didn’t make the experience of being made piggy in the middle by her parents any less cutting for Tiffany.
Yet she’d somehow managed to put it behind her and become a functioning adult, forging her own way and giving her brother a hand up as well. And he admired the hell out of her for it – more than that, he wanted to make things right for her. Slay her dragons even though she’d proven she was more than capable of her own dragon-slaying.
Tossing the pen he’d been idly twirling, Theo rose and strolled to the windows, shoving his hands in his pockets, clenching his fists as he thought about how much he’d like to plant one square in the middle of Marshall Wainwright’s philandering face. Theo may well have slept his way around Europe – and a few other continents – but he’d never put a ring on anyone’s finger.
His thoughts slid to Angelika before they slid hastily away.
Fidelity and honour in marriage – as in business – had not only been ingrained by his father and grandfather but it had been all around. Marriage was sacrosanct in the Callisthenes family and he need look no further than his elders to see it on display.
That was not to say that Theo wasn’t a realist. He understood that a lot of marriages didn’t work out and ended, oftentimes for the better of both parties. And he knew people strayed in relationships for a variety of reasons and that things were rarely black and white, but there were no excuses for crossing any fidelity lines as far as he was concerned.
