Page 17 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“That has nothing to do with why I picked him.”
“Sure, Ric. Whatever you say,” Bridget teases.
The ladies chuckle.
“Shut up and eat your food,” Lyric grumbles.
Lyric pullsinto Ranson’s driveway and sees a crew of workers around the property. His house is getting renovated, and construction is being done everywhere.
He lives in a gated villa in an enclave of houses known as the Beverly Glen Circle.
She gets out of her deep purple Audi A3 Cabriolet and makes her way to the front door. She rings the doorbell, but with all the noise going on, she doubts anyone can hear it. Taking out her phone, she sends a text to Ranson.
Lyric
I’m here.
Ranson
Come in. The front door is unlocked. I’m in my office. Head in and make a left. It will be the third door down the hall.
Lyric enters and takes Ranson’s instructions to his office. She sees him sitting behind a desk on the phone. He looks up and gives her a weak smile, while gesturing for her to have a seat.
Lyric sits and watches his brows furrow, his jaw tick and his forehead crease. “Yeah, I know,” he mumbles.
Finding out his dad already knew about the deal with Lee and Shandola has obviously left him stressed. All the hammering and drilling from outside can’t be helping.
“I’m not sure what’s going to happen, Mike. Look, I’m going to put you on speaker. My publicist is here, and she needs to hearthis, too.” Ranson hits a button on his phone. “Mike, please meet Lyric Fuqua. Lyric, please meet my sister, Michaela.”
“Hello, Michaela. Please continue your conversation. I hop in if needed.”
“Hello, and thank you. I was just telling Ran that daddy is on the warpath.”
“I can imagine,” Lyric replies.
“At this point, Ran, you’re going to have to tell mom and Lee to hold off. They’ll be disappointed, but they’ll also be a lot more reasonable.”
“Fuck!” Ranson snaps.
Lyric jumps. He immediately looks embarrassed and mouths, “I’m sorry.”
She nods.
“I’m tired of this man dictating our every move and hanging his money over our heads,” Ranson says. The frustration and annoyance are evident in his voice and body language. His shoulders are slumped, and he’s pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I know, but until things die down, you’ll have to chill with helping mom and Lee. Look, Ran, I’m not happy about this either, but you know how vindictive he is,” Michaela says.
Somehow, Ranson looks even more defeated. The sadness in his face tells Lyric just how beaten down he is.
He ends the phone call with his sister and massages his temples. The hammering gets louder, and Ranson flinches like the hammer is inside his head.
“Let’s get you out of here.”
“But we’re supposed to meet and come up with a new plan.”
“And we will. But I need to get you out of here.”
Lyric holds out her hand. He comes from around his desk and takes it, giving it a squeeze.
