How wrong he was.
4
Everly
He stayed in the shower until I left. Not once did he come out to stop me when I was getting ready, and I thank God for that small miracle. Just because I am back at his house doesn’t mean I want to be here. And for him to think I will give up my café, he’s fucking crazy. No chance in hell will I ever consider that prospect. This little café is my baby, my life source, building it from the ground up, I love every inch of this place.
My cell phone sits in my purse with multiple unanswered questions, mainly from May. I’m not sure how to tell her everything that’s happened, or even where to start to explain the situation I find myself in. Not only will she be shocked, but I may break her heart when I tell her about what happened with Alec. Unfortunately, he doesn’t see her in any way she wants him to.
“Everly.” I turn to my father’s voice. He and my mother are standing in my café. The very café they have never stepped foot inside, due to my father’s innate disgust at me even wanting a business of my own that doesn’t include him firmly entrenched in its dealings.
“What—” I stop and look around to see no one else with them. Walking over to them, I guide my mother and father to a seat in the back where we can talk. My father’s eyes skirt everywhere before he finally sits, checking out my café with an eagle eye, while my knee bounces anxiously as I wait for them to speak.
My mother goes first. “It’s so busy.”
I turn and follow my father’s eyes—he’s staring at the takeout counter, which serves coffee, and our dessert menu, including our specialty chocolate swirl cheesecake. As usual, there’s a line out the door and halfway down the street.
“This is not what I thought it would be,” my father says, turning around to face me. “You’ve done really well, angel.” I smile at his words but then remember.
My back straightens and I take a deep breath before any words leave my mouth. “You wrote suicide notes?” I ask them. At least my mother has the decency to look down at her feet while my father nods.
“He wanted extra reassurance. We had to give it to him.”
“When?” I ask.
“The day before the wedding.” Of course, he had everything planned. “You loved him, so we didn’t see it as an issue.”
I balk at his damn words. “You have to be joking, right? You have suicide notes written and given to a man who wants your business.”
“Well, it will be yours now you’re married…” he pauses while running a hand through his hair, “… when you’re ready for it.”
“I don’t want it,” I tell him, crossing my hands over my chest in a defiant move.
“It’s yours. It’s how it works. It’s all part of the reason he married you. It’s what you stand to inherit that he’s interested in.”
“Give it to Alec,” I say.
“You know about him now, I take it? Yet, you still want him to have it?”
“I do. He deserves it.”
My father nods. “He may kill me for this,” my father says, referring to Gunner.
“Was it in the contract?” I ask.
“No. All that was stated in that damn contract was that he has the right to marry our firstborn girl, and if she refuses, he has means to end us with no retaliation.”
“Is he a bad man?” I ask my father.
“Yes. But the way he looked at you…” he pauses and looks to my mother, “… it reminded me of how I look at your mother. That he loves you that much is perfectly clear to us.”
I shake my head, not even wanting to get involved in any of those types of thoughts. “Why did you lie to me about Alec?” I ask. “I thought he was my uncle this whole time, and you lied. You had him believe he could marry me,” I say incredulously.
“We had hoped he could. You see, we hadn’t heard anything from the Reid family since you were five, and their last heir, the one who was up to marry you, had not wanted any part of marriage. So, Alec was the best option. He would care for you and look after the family business in return.”
“What exactly is the family business?” I ask, leaning forward, now wanting to know everything.
“We are exporters. Highly illegal items, extremely valuable, sourced from places you don’t want to know and are most dangerous to be dealing with. We own the majority of this town’s infrastructure and people. Granted, your husband has done a great job of slowly pushing me out and taking over.”
“I don’t want any part of it,” I say.
My father nods his reluctant approval. “You never did. Even when we tried to slowly ease you into it when you turned twenty, all you would talk about is this café.” He waves his hands around my beautiful shop and smiles. “So, we stopped and let you dream.”