Page 50 of Perfect Composition
I lift my arm and shift my shirtsleeve so I can view my watch face. “Go.”
Angie slips through the doors. I hear a distinctive snick of the lock. I’d be faintly amused at her lack of trust if it wasn’t for the fact my daughter’s just beyond those doors, and I’ll kick them in if I have to.
One minute and thirty-eight seconds later, the doors are unlocked, but instead of Angie opening them, it’s David. “You’re a pain in my damn ass on a good day. You know that?”
I’m about to blast him until I get a good look at his face. It’s filled with fatigue and worry. “What happened?”
“The truth happened, Beckett. And it wasn’t pretty.”
I swallow the lump building in my throat as we move toward the closed door of the conference room. I confirm what we’d already guessed. “Paige kept Austyn from me.”
“Yes, but it wasn’t because she wanted to. It was because she was fed a bunch of bullshit from the one person she should have been able to trust.” David stops just short of opening the door.
“Who?” My question may be simple, but the answer is everything.
“Her father. He’s been lying to her from the moment she was born.”
“Motherfucker!” I shout.
Of course, that’s when David flings open the conference room door. Immediately, Austyn surges to her feet. And despite my age and the life I’ve led, I flush like an errant schoolboy over the fact cursing is the first words my daughter hears directly from me.
BECKETT
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Do you think Beckett Miller goes on Santa’s naughty or nice list? I know where he should go! Right in the middle—of my bed, that is.
— Sexy&Social, All the Scandal You Can Handle
“What the hell are you doing here?” she snarls when she sees me. Immediately, she turns on Carys. “Was this a setup? Was Mama supposed to be involved?”
Carys shoots daggers at me with her eyes. “No. In fact, I believe he was given explicit instructions that today was not a good day for one of his drive-by visits.”
I have the grace to feel abashed. “I…”
But before I can apologize for my intrusion, Carys lambasts me in front of my own child. “My colleagues and I have worked tirelessly for this day. Does that penetrate through your thick skull?”
I grit my teeth. “It does.”
“Are you sure you understand that? Because first, Angie and Ward went to listen to Austyn play—putting Angie at significant risk, which fortunately hasn’t caused any harm, knock on wood.” Carys leans over and knocks on the conference room table. “Then, my firm was investigated because ofyou. Where I had to hire my own investigators to find out why.”
“I know all of this. And if you’re so pissed, bill me for the last,” I snap.
“Then let me catch you up on something you might be missing, Beckett. When I tell you don’t come in, there’s a damn good reason! You may be my largest client, but you’re not my only one. And you could have broken any of the potential ten different confidentiality clauses I insert into the contracts I make other people sign—some of which are on your behalf—just by stepping foot into this office.” Before I can butt in, Carys holds up a hand. “I’m not surprised by this, mind you. But I have no compunction about sitting back and letting Kensington rip into you since I’m officially her attorney of record. And you just interrupted a very private meeting between me and my client. Now before you say a word, think very hard about how you would react if that happened to you and it was because you just dropped inafteryou were advised not to do so.” Carys taps her fingers on the table behind her, waiting for my response.
I have such conflicting emotions rioting through me: chagrin, humiliation, and regret. Because she’s right. I’d have torn the arm off whoever walked into the door, and she damn well knows it. I open my mouth to acknowledge my mistake when I hear the most annoying sound in the world.
A slow clap.
“If I hadn’t hired you to be my attorney already, Carys, that would have convinced me,” drawls Paige’s and my daughter. “Does anyone win an argument with you?”
Carys twists her head slightly so she faces Austyn. “Not when it matters. Like I told you, I’m damn good at what I do.”
“Well, that will be one thing to relieve Mama’s mind,” my grown daughter whispers.
And hearing the word “Mama” is what does it. Anger overrides everything else. I curse the lifetime of opportunities I missed with this precocious woman because of a wealth of mistakes and lies, none of which my fame or my wealth can get back.
By the time I’m done, Austyn’s expression has changed from hostile to pensive. “You truly didn’t know? Before we came here, Mama thought you must have. Then something happened before she left. It wasn’t until she”—she nods at Carys—“explained everything she told Mama that I realized you both got rooked.”
