Page 69 of Bossy Wicked Prince
“And you didn’t think to tell me till now?” I growl.
Ryan holds up his hands. “Hey, I thought you knew. Cat’s notmygirlfriend.”
Of course. Mom would have to butt her head in and ruin the best thing that’s happened to me in months. It’s classic her. I don’t know what she said to Cat, but I’m guessing there were enough snobby, cutting insults in there to chase my girl off.
“Do you remember anything else?” I ask Ryan.
“Uh, Cat was holding a bunch of bags, and this big bouquet of pink flowers. That’s all I know.”
She brought me her favorite flowers. The ones I always see her stop to smell on her way home. She’ll never buy them for herself, but she bought them as a gift for me. She’s too generous, and too fucking good for me.
I push to my feet. “Thanks for telling me. I have to go make a call.”
As I’m leaving the gym, I hear Ryan call after me, “I notice you didn’t deny she was your girlfriend!”
I dial Mom’s number the second I get in the elevator. Just as the doors open to my apartment, I hear her archly mannered voice.
“Nathaniel! Finally. I must have left you six messages.”
“I’ve been busy.”
If she can hear the reined anger in my voice, she ignores it. She just rambles on like she didn’t even hear me. “I’ve spoken with the caterers, and they say Thanksgiving dinner will be ready at six. The family will all be at our place at four for drinks. Your aunts are all so excited to see you.”
“I’m not coming to Thanksgiving, Mom. Not after what you pulled.”
She pauses. “I’m not sure what you mean, Nathaniel.”
“Oh, yes, you do. How dare you talk to her like that? What the hell did she do to deserve you being so rude to her?”
“I assume you’re talking about your assistant.” Every word is careful, calculated. “We did meet when I stopped by yourapartment, but our conversation was perfectly polite. I didn’t say anything untrue or inappropriate. Why, what did she tell you?”
“She didn’t have to tell me anything. I know you well enough to have a pretty good idea of what you said. Did you say she wasn’t good enough? That she was wasting her time with me? That she doesn’t deserve to be in my life?”
Mom lets out a long breath. “I’m just concerned for you, sweetheart. You’ve been distracted, and the board has been discussing you. First the Crown Hotel Group deal fell through, and Eric tells me thisCatwas the reason.”
“No, their sexist pig of a CEO was the reason,” I snap. “You know what happened. I gave the board a full report. I would have done the same if I saw him behave like that toward any woman.”
“Now is just not the time to lose your focus. The Edmonton Security acquisition is coming up, and I don’t want to see that fall apart, too. Thisgirlhas taken up far too much of your attention, and I can’t watch it continue. Your father would never have let himself be distracted by something so trivial.”
Cruel laughter bubbles up in my chest. Mom already stepped all over my relationship with Cat. If I wanted to hurt her back, I’ve got a poison dagger that I could stab right into her cold heart.
But no matter what Mom does to me, I could never be that heartless.
Dad had distractions, alright. He had a whole other fucking family he never told her about. A wife, a house, children.
When he went away on business trips, at least half the time, he was with them. He molded me to lead his company, but saved his love and affection for his illegitimate children.
I found out his secret when I was sixteen. A folder on his desk full of children’s art that I didn’t recognize. Photographs of him, toddlers on his lap, kissing his cheeks while he smiled at them like he never smiled at me.
Dad swore he’d tell Mom if I just gave him time. Out of youthful stupidity, I believed him. I swallowed my threats to tell her the truth and let him come up with the perfect way to break the news to her without breaking her heart. He waited for weeks, which turned into months. Before he could make good on his promise, he had to go and die.
His stroke changed everything. All his ruthlessness in the board room was forgotten. He died young, so he has to be remembered as a saint. Mom and the whole UPS board still act like Dad was some gold-hearted genius who led our company into a new century with forward thinking and old-fashioned morals.
A legacy he only gets to have thanks to me. Thanks to all the money I pay Dad’s shadow family for their silence. What do I get in return? A secret that feels heavier than that barbell on my chest, one I can never tell another soul.
A bitter taste fills my mouth. If Mom had left Cat alone, maybe I would have spent another holiday with her, mired in my own guilt. Now, I can’t bear the thought of it.
“You know what? No,” I say, my voice empty of emotion. “I don’t think I’ll make it to Thanksgiving dinner, but thanks for the invite.”
