Page 39 of The Rules of Their Red-Hot Reunion

Pasco nodded. ‘I arranged a driver to take her to Kimberley, paid her rent, and gave her money to buy what she needed,’ Pasco said, in his furious, growly voice. ‘Today was his day off and, in between helping out in the kitchen, I did some spot checks and he’s been stealing from me.

‘When he comes in tomorrow, I’m going to fire his ass,’ Pasco told her.

‘Do you have proof?’

‘There are some dubious invoices that don’t look genuine. I think he’s also been double-dipping.’

‘Double-dipping?’

‘He’s claimed cash from petty cash on invoices that were paid on the company credit card. I’ll bring in a team of forensic accountants to go through every scrap of paper.’

Aisha rubbed her thumb across his knuckles. ‘I’m sorry he hurt you, Pas,’ she quietly stated.

Pasco stared at her with haunted eyes. ‘He was my first employee, Aish, he’s been with me for years. Why do the people closest to you always let you down?’

He wasn’t talking about Jason any more, and Aisha knew that the ghosts from the past had their cold fingers around his throat. ‘You’re thinking about your dad.’

He shrugged. ‘How can I not? It’s pretty much the same thing he did.’

No, Jason had opened up Pasco’s wounds, he hadn’t caused them. ‘Tell me about your dad, Pas.’

Pasco jammed his thumb and index finger into his eye sockets and rubbed them, as if trying to dispel the memories. But when he looked up, Aisha saw that they were still swirling in his eyes.

‘My mum tried hard to make her marriage work, but having her house repossessed was the last straw. We moved to Franschhoek, and my father stayed in the city. It was a tough, tough time. I remember listening to her crying herself to sleep. It didn’t help that he wouldn’t stop calling her or trying to see us, rocking up at midnight or four in the morning, causing scene after scene and threatening to take us away.

‘Mum got a restraining order and instigated divorce proceedings. Then she went to work and put her head down to clear the debts he ran up in her name. She met John, my stepdad, but she refused to accept any financial help from anyone, including her wealthy family. She said she’d been the idiot, so she’d pay the price. We had some visits with him—they were awful because he wasn’t that interested in us, he just ranted about my mum most of the time, constantly telling us how he was going to take us away,’ Pasco explained. ‘Then he dropped off the radar and I was hurt. Confused. And worried. And I felt guilty because John was around and he was great, stable, and interested in us, you know?’

Aisha nodded.

‘I white-knuckled it through my last year of primary school, knowing that I was going to Duncan House. My grandfather and uncles all went to the school and my grandfather left money for the fees. That was what got me through that year, the knowledge that I was going to this fantastic school.’

Aisha sucked in a breath, suspecting what he was about to say next. ‘A couple of weeks before I was due to start, my mum got a call from the school, asking for a meeting. She went in and when she came out, she was crying...’

Pasco’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

‘Your dad stole that money too?’ Aisha gently asked.

He stared out of the window, misery in his eyes. ‘My mum, naively, believed he wouldn’t stoop so low to take our education fund. But he had that damn power of attorney, and he did. My mum just shrank in on herself, fell apart. She handled losing her house, her savings, but losing the ability to fund her boys’ education? That nearly killed her.’

‘But you did go to Duncan House,’ she pointed out. ‘How did that happen?’

He smiled softly. ‘After a week of watching my mum cry, John said to hell with it and he went to Duncan House and cut a cheque for both my and Cam’s education, for the full five years each. My mum told him to cancel the cheque, that it wasn’t his problem, and he told her he didn’t have any kids, that he was going to marry her and he had pots of money. He told her he understood her desire to pay off his debts, but we were going to Duncan House and that was the end of it.’

‘You must’ve been so relieved,’ Aisha stated.

‘Yeah, I was, but I was so pissed off with my father too,’ Pasco replied, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I needed to talk to him, to confront him, you know?’

‘Did you?’

Pasco nodded. ‘I found out where he was living, I don’t remember how, and I hitched a lift to the city and went to see him.’

‘Go on, Pas,’ Aisha said when he hesitated.

‘I went to his apartment—God, that’s too good a word for the hovel he was living in. I expected a house, something great to show for all the money he stole, but it was a hovel. There was a mattress on the floor, a sleeping bag, and a two-ring stove. No fridge. He said he lost the money in some pyramid scheme, and he was destitute. He askedmefor money, his twelve-year-old son.

‘I just stood there, wondering who the hell he was and how he could make such stupid decisions. I vowed I would never be like him, that I would be the exact opposite.’

A bankload of pennies dropped. That was why he was so driven, so committed to his career. Pasco’s need to be successful was his way to heal the psychological wounds his father had inflicted. Aisha stared at him, feeling shocked and sad. ‘What did you do?’

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