Page 81 of High Value Target

“Dad wasn’t stupid enough to leave him a controlling interest. Mom would make sure he was taken care of financially. He was always her favorite, but Dad would make sure the company was locked up tight from him.” He looked around the crowd, then back at her. “You’ll come with me, of course.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, it was the only day that worked with my schedule.”

“I can’t. I’ve got Kiley’s grandmother’s funeral tomorrow.”

“Tinsley. You’re my fiancée. You need to be with me. How would it look?”

Anger flared inside her. “What about how it wouldlookfor me to not be there for my best friend? It’s a funeral. That trumps your reading of the will, Palmer. You’ll just have to go alone.”

He frowned, and Tinsley knew the look on his face was probably because she’d shocked him. It wasn’t often she put her foot down.

“I’m not sure I like this side of you, sweetheart.”

“Ditto.”

He arched a brow at that. “This isn’t like you at all.”

She rubbed her temples. She knew in another moment she’d snap at him that she was through with him, and as true as that was, this was not the time or place. She could wait another day. “I have a headache.”

“I knew there had to be a reason. Another one of your migraines?” The way he said it was condescending, as if he doubted their existence. “Perhaps you should go lie down.”

“Perhaps I should.” With that, she turned on her heel and clicked down the hall. She didn’t take the stairs to the second floor, instead she spied her father sitting on the patio by the pool.

Grady moved off the wall, across the room and through the crowd, to follow her, but she stopped him at the French doors with a hand to his chest.

“I just want to talk to my father in private.”

He nodded. “I’ll wait here.”

She knew he’d have eyes on her at all times, watching through the glass.

She moved to the outdoor sofa and sat next to her father.

“You okay, Daddy?”

“Yes. Just needed some air.”

“It’s been a long day.”

He rubbed her back. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine. Things have changed, haven’t they?” She turned to look at him. “With Patrick’s death.”

“I suppose they have. Palmer will need you more than ever.”

She looked away.

“Are you happy, baby girl?”

“Happiness doesn’t figure into it. I do what I have to do for the family. Only the strong survive, right? Only the best win? You taught me that, Daddy.” She looked at the horizon. “Perfection is all that matters.” She was in a mood, and she was letting all her built up grievances show.

“That’s not the lesson I want you to take from me. That’s not the legacy I want to leave you with.”

“It’s how you’ve always lived.”

“There are things I need to tell you, things I need to say.”

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