Wyatt stared at him, the words not quite making sense at first. Divorce? His parents had never had what anyone would call a loving relationship. His dad wasn’t an easy man to live with and had cheated more than once. But he and his mom had always seemed to have a mutual agreement to stay together—like a polite business arrangement. “A thing?”
“Some counseling vacation.” He scoffed and tightened his tie again. “As if that could be called a vacation. All that touchy-feely hippie bullshit. But she’s going to leave me if I don’t go with her.”
“Jesus, Dad.”
His father waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t start the pity party. It’ll be fine. I think your mother just had some white light moment when she had that heart attack and is getting loopy on me. We’ll do this, I’ll buy her something nice, and we’ll move on. We always do.”
Not with that attitude. But Wyatt kept the comment to himself. If his mom wanted to make a run at a happier life, he wasn’t going to begrudge her that.
“Which is why I’m going to need you to handle the retreat and not fuck it up.”
Wyatt was still reeling from the previous news, but of course his father wasn’t going to linger on anything non-business related for long. “Me? I can’t go on the retreat. Who’s going to handle things here why you’re out? I’ll just cancel it this year. Carmichael will understand.”
A muscle twitched in his father’s jowl. “No. He won’t. We’ll be cut right off the guest list for the future. I’ve been working on getting that family’s accounts for years and I’m this close. One rebuff and it’s gone. Plus, Tony Merrill will be there. If we cancel, we may as well hand our clients over to him with a bow around their necks.”
Wyatt leaned back in his chair, rubbing his head, the thought of attending a Carmichael retreat curling dread in his stomach. Wyatt had never been, but he knew it wasn’t anything like the business conferences he attended. This was a schmoozing trip. No workshops, no meetings, it was all about rubbing elbows and kissing ass.
And Wyatt didn’t kiss ass.
“I’m not going on some trip to tell people how fucking fantastic they are. I’m not a salesman.”
“You will, and you better become one fast.” His dad pinned Wyatt with a hard look. “You are supposed to step into my shoes when I retire. But if I dropped dead tomorrow, you’d be woefully unequipped.”
Wyatt could only stare back at him. “Unequipped? What with the doctorate, the decade of experience, and a record that could lap anyone else here?”
“If this business was one hundred percent numbers, no one could even attempt to challenge you. Not even me. You’re brilliant, Wyatt. But half the job of being a CEO is selling yourself, the image of the company, and generating new business. It’s politics. For people to trust you with their money, they have to want to work with you, to like you.”
Wyatt clenched his teeth, having flashbacks from his high school years. He’d won a lot of awards, but the popularity contest was one he’d never had a shot in.
“You need to show me you’re capable with this part of the business. Otherwise, you’re starting to make me wonder if you’re the right person to take over the top spot when I step down.”
Wyatt’s fingers dug into the arms of his chair, cool steel in his voice. “Excuse me?”
That position had been decided since Wyatt’s first IQ test in grade school. Like an Olympic athlete, his whole life had centered around getting groomed and trained for this role, especially after his father had realized that his other son, Jace, had absolutely no interest in taking over the family business.
Wyatt thought of all the things he’d turned down, walked away from, or not tried because he was on this path. Because he was the “good” son, the heir apparent. All the hours and blood and sweat he put into this company. Now that role was up the air?r: Roni Loren
She opened her mouth to argue, but what was the point? In truth, having someone watch her back as she left the apartment wasn’t a bad thing. The D-Towners were probably just trying to scare her, but she also knew they were capable of a lot worse than that, so she wasn’t going to take any chances. “Thanks. Guess you probably shouldn’t have stuck around for that muffin today. You’d be tucked safely in your office by now none the wiser, making people their millions.”
He shook his head. “Best decision I’ve made in a long time. The millions will still be there tomorrow.”
And now, because of him, she would still be around, too. “Thank you, Wyatt. Really. I’m so—”
He held up a hand. “If you apologize one more time for something that is absolutely not your fault, you’re going to see my mean side.”
The threat shouldn’t have sent a hot shiver through her, but it did. The image of the quietly intense executive losing some of that nothing-phases-me exterior called to her in a way she couldn’t even define. The feeling was foreign, frightening. The fact that he’d shut down the possibility of them sleeping together was probably a very, very good thing, even if her hormones hadn’t quite jumped on board with that plan yet. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
“I’ll be here.” Wyatt sat down on her loveseat, pulled out his cell phone, and started scanning through emails as if he’d wait forever if that was how long she needed.
She stood there watching him for a few moments longer than necessary, knowing that this would probably be the last time she’d have him this close. Sure, she’d be able to hide out for a few weeks, but this wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. She’d thought she’d escaped undetected the last time, but clearly they’d discovered the role she’d played in Raymond Miller’s downfall. And if D-Town was determined to hurt her, she wasn’t going to be safe anywhere near their territory.
She let out a long breath and turned her back, heading toward her bedroom. Wyatt didn’t know it, but their fictional love affair was about to come to a quick and quiet end.
Because she was going to have to leave her life here in Dallas.
And leave him.
CHAPTER THREE