Page 34 of Daddy's Game

“I told Selma there was no way you could be behind this. I was right about that, wasn’t I?”

I wanted to believe that he wasn’t a suspect, yet some part of me sought affirmation. I guess because of how I had begun to feel about him. Brock set his glass down and took my hand in his own. A reassuring warmth spread from his skin into my own.

“Grace, I would never go behind your back and arrange something insidious like this. I don’t want to win that way.”

“But you do still want to win,” I said.

“Yes, I do like to win.” His brows climbed high on his face. “So do you. It’s something we have in common.”

I couldn't argue with that.

“If you won’t take my money,” he said, “how about you take my advice instead? I serve on the board of several prominent charities. I could help you get the most out of what you have.”

“I’ve been doing just fine on my own,” I snapped.

Brock’s eyes widened slightly.

“If that’s true, then why are you always on the verge of shutting down?”

I wanted to curse him, but he was right. I held back a bitter retort and let my shoulders slump.

“All right. It would be very irresponsible of me to ignore your offer when the center is in danger. What do you think I should do?”

“I think you need a crash course in business management.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’m going to train you to be the very best in your field. But it won't come easy. You’ll have to do everything I say.”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

In retrospect, I probably should have known I was putting my foot squarely in my mouth.

12

BROCK

Istood in front of the mirror, shirtless, skin gleaming from a late night shower. My jaw set hard as I regarded my reflection.

“You’re going to get that corner lot.”

I didn’t say it like a question, or even an affirmation. It was a statement of fact. Or so I told myself.

“Getting the center won’t destroy what you have with Grace.” My eyes narrowed as they stared back at me. “But we’re not going to let her lose the center to the caprice of a zoning board that’s probably taking kickbacks at some level.”

I thought of several associates of mine who might be to blame for bribing city hall. I was far from the only real estate developer in New York City, after all. That didn’t mean I had any solid evidence of who had sent the bribe–if indeed anyone had at all. Sometimes city councils just came up with seemingly arbitrary rules.

I realized I’d zoned out. Shaking my head, I reclaimed my thoughts and turned away from the mirror. I dressed in a power suit, despite the late hour. It was going on ten thirty, but I’d still arranged for a meeting with some of my most talented and trusted managers.

I walked out of the bathroom and then took the elevator down one floor. I’d leased out the condo beneath my own for office space a couple years back. Sometimes I didn’t feel like traipsing all the way to the downtown office.

After all I was the boss. My employees could do the traipsing, and I had an early morning planned the next day.

When I came to the door, it stood wide open. In what was supposed to be the kitchen area of the condo, I had set up a long meeting room table and three big smart TVs. A dozen men and women sat around the table, looking up when I entered.

All of them put away tablets, folders, and hard copy files when I entered. I didn’t get angry that they were working on other things while waiting for me. I’d been cryptic about the meeting’s purpose after all, and I didn’t begrudge them getting work on other projects finished while I kept them waiting.

“Good evening,” I said. “Thank you all for coming out so late, and on such short notice.”

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