But instead of balking, he sighs. I don’t like this side of him. Mason James has never backed away from anything. He never surrenders. When Mom was dying, he fought even after she was ready to make peace and drift away. Sometimes, I think he’s still fighting for her not to die, now over a decade later. He could have his pick of Inferno Falls’s cougars but stays a bachelor, holding a candle long since extinguished.

“It’s different, Riley. You’re my daughter.”

“So I get special treatment.”

“Yes, frankly. But there’s more. You’re also an intern.”

“And?”

My words are confrontational, so he seems to decide it’s worth fighting dirty to fight back.

“Honestly, Ri, it doesn’t matter much what an intern does. Interns’ decisions don’t matter. They do what they’re told. As long as you can file papers, make calls, and run errands, you’re doing your job.”

“I don’t want to be an intern forever,” I say. “You let me attend the financial meeting.”

His lips firm. I can tell how badly he doesn’t want to fight, and probably hoped this wouldn’t come up. Then, the next time there was an important meeting and I wasn’t allowed to attend, the issue itself would be cooler and less immediate. I’m not sure how much penance he’s sentenced me to, but it’s clear that there’s some.

“I see. So because I’m interested in someone who works for you, I’m no longer allowed to be a legacy.”

“I’m not punishing you, Riley. You’re a grown woman.”

“But you are. You and Mom started this company. You always meant for me to move up; that’s what I was told. The message dimmed a lot after Mom died, though. Around the time I started getting prettier dresses and dolls.”

“You’re not being fair.”

“You’re not, Dad.” I stand. My heart is pounding. I’ve never confronted him like this.

“Nothing changes,” he says. “But you don’t know what the day-to-day of running a company is like. I have to make a lot of decisions, and it’s more of an art than a science. There are no truly right or wrong decisions. Even the best choices have downsides. You have to play a company more than run it. Like you would an instrument.”

“And my decision-making ability is impaired.”

“You need to learn.”

“And I set it back. By sleeping with Brandon.” Another barb, intentionally sharp. If he keeps angering me, I’ll start describing exactly what we did, how fast, and how hard.

“You’d just met him. You were drunk.”

“We weren’t drunk! It was hours after the restaurant!”

“And you were by the side of the road. Jesus, Riley. Look, I don’t fault you. You’re still young. You’re impulsive.”

“Mom was impulsive.”

“Don’t,” he says. There’s a warning in his eyes, and I fear I may have crossed a line.

“So that’s it,” I say.

“It’s not ‘it.’ You just need seasoning. Experience.”

“And Brandon?”

“The ability to make good decisions matters more for a project leader. And it matters a lot more for a vice president.”

“So he’s fired.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But he’s certainly not promoted.”

He laughs.

“It’s not fair. He’s the same man he was yesterday. And I’m the same woman.”

“No, you goddamn well are not!”

I find myself looking into staring, angry eyes, feeling any retort drying in my throat. He holds my gaze for a long second then looks away, flicking his tablet to a new window. Back to his online newspaper, maybe.

I know I won’t say more. My fantasy that everything was the same now feels like a childish hope. I feel stupid again, but this time his judgments have teeth. His disappointment didn’t go away. It simply changed forms.

I pour myself a to-go cup of coffee while Dad sulks over his tablet, making more rattling and clanging than necessary. I cap it, grab a bar as I could have done from my own kitchen, and am halfway to the door when the doorbell rings.

I answer to find a man I’ve never seen. He has serious dark eyebrows, blue eyes, and a large, ugly scar across one cheek. Somehow, the scar doesn’t ruin his face. He’s incredibly handsome despite it. Maybe even because of it.

I almost gasp when I realize it’s Brandon. But my father, arriving behind me, doesn’t get it until Brandon speaks.

He hands something to my father. A piece of paper that looks rather official.

“With all due respect, sir, thank you for all your company has done for me, but I’ll be moving on.”

My father moves between me and Brandon. He looks down at the paper in his hand.

“You’re … you’re quitting?” 

He nods slowly, maybe a little sadly.

“Why?”

“Because it’s time to stop hiding,” he says, “and start being who I really am.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Brandon

I’M STANDING IN THE DOORWAY, barefaced, when Riley says, “Come in.”

“Riley,” Mason says.

“Come in, Brandon,” she repeats.

I enter the lavish house. With something like amusement, I realize that I’ve been building these kitchens for years. Half of the Life of Riley homes in Cherry Hill have this innovative open floor plan, and I just assumed it had been born on the job — surely by some clever architect, seeing as Mason isn’t good at design. But then something hits me, and I realize what’s off here. The kitchen must have been the creation of Mason’s late wife, Crystal. There are little Easter eggs like that rumored to be sewn throughout the company’s homes, but this is the first I’ve seen with my own eyes.

I look at Riley. She’s keeping her distance, her eyes flicking between me and her father. I get the feeling I’ve interrupted something. The air is thick with things unsaid, and I’m obviously not the only one here Mason’s upset with.

“So you’re just going to leave,” Mason says. “Leave us high and dry.”

“If you’ll read that,” I say, pointing to my written notice still in his hand, “you’ll see that I’m giving the company all the time it needs to replace me. I’ll train whomever you need. But I honestly think I’m covered most of the way already. If you’d promoted me, who would have moved into project leader? Shaun?”

“Probably,” Mason says.

“I’ll tell him all he needs to know. I’ll hand over my contacts. Whatever you need.”

Mason looks like he wants to protest, but there’s no way he can. I didn’t set out to give Mason a gotcha or flip him the bird on the way out, but it’s a nice side effect. Turns out, there are two ways to win a confrontation. The first is to dominate the discussion and get everything you want. The other is to give everything away before you’re asked.

I step closer to Riley. This is a bit of a gambit, but luckily I’m good at poker. I know how to call a bluff, and know bullshit when I see it.

“Why are you doing this?” Riley almost whispers, as if she thinks her father won’t hear us.

“Because it hurts.”

She looks at me funny. I decide I can explain later, depending on how this all turns out. But Bridget would be proud. I can’t have put myself more on display than I am now. If the way out is the most painful path, then I’m in excellent shape.

I’ve been with Life of Riley for years. It’s a great company, with an owner I respect. I’ve learned a lot about Mason James, and even though there are people who say he’s greedy, I don’t agree. He’s smart and ambitious. So smart, in fact, that he has a history of making decisions that everyone thinks are stupid until they’re not. And he’s smart enough to always choose what’s objectively best, even if he doesn’t like it at all. And when it turns out that Mason is wrong, he always admits it.