Chapter Nineteen
Susan overheard Mercy and Ian talking in hushed tones in the study, when she drew close. Hushed was a good word for the mood of the house tonight.
“I never thought it would come down to this.” Ian sounded frustrated.
Mercy was pacing. “I should have guessed, but after all the I’m sorry’s… it’s a bit of a blindside.”
That was one way to put it. The numbness in Susan had given way to a persistent ache. Her father didn’t want her. Twenty-one was probably too old to cry about things like Daddy kicked me out, but his reasons—those harsh words—hurt so much.
“If you want us to cancel their contract, we will,” Ian said. “I’ve questioned doing business with them for a long time, and this is one of those things I won’t tolerate.”
Mercy shook her head. “That’s business. You can’t confuse it with personal matters.”
“It’s both. They’re family businesses, and sometimes those lines have to blur.”
“I don’t know.” Mercy spat out the words. “I want to say it was an emotional moment, and things will be better once everyone calms down, but I’m done with him.”
Susan moved away from the doorway and into the shadows before they could see her. She pressed her back to the wall and slid to the floor. This sucked.
“Come here.” Ian’s voice filtered into the hallway. “I kind of hate you found him to help pick up the pieces last time this happened, and I wasn’t there to stop you from running so far away.”
Mercy’s chuckle mingled with a sigh. “He’s got a name. There’s no way you’re jealous of Andrew.”
“Nope. I wouldn’t trade you for all the pictures of naked women in the world. But my point is I’m here this time, whatever you or Susan need.”
“You’re such a sweet-talker.” Some of the stress vanished from Mercy’s voice.
A spark of jealousy flashed through Susan, and she made her way to her room before she had to hear more. It must be nice to have that kind of love.
Susan considered reaching out to her brothers or other sister. She nixed the idea moments after it surfaced, based on the cruelty they directed at Mercy when she left home. Only one of them forgave her when she came back into their lives, and it was a more tentative truce than Mercy shared with Dad.
Night blurred into morning, punctuated by restless sleep and struggling to process how she’d been tossed out of her childhood home as if she were a stray cat, rather than her father’s daughter.
Susan poured a glass of juice, trying to figure out what to do with her sudden free time now that she was out of a job. Call the various dance studios back. Make sure they had the house number here, to get a hold of her. Fortunately, her contacts were associated with her email, so she didn’t lose everything when she surrendered her phone.
“Hey.” Mercy wandered into the kitchen, Ian behind her. They were dressed for work. “How are you holding up?”
Susan gave her a thin smile, not able to put her feelings into words. She handed Ian the juice when he reached for it.
“After work, I’ll take you to pick up a new phone and some stuff to wear, until we can get your clothes back. Feel free to raid my closet,” Mercy said.
“Thanks. But I’ll pay you back, I promise.” Susan hated that she couldn’t fend for herself. No job. No money. No car. She was lucky she had some family.
Ian finished his drink, then rinsed the glass and set it in the sink. He tossed Mercy her car keys, from the pegs near the garage door. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Save your money—whatever you’ve got from your last paycheck. Stretch it out while you can.”
“I didn’t get a paycheck. Like ever. I was an intern.” She realized now how stupid the words sounded.
“You what?” Mercy’s voice rose.
Anger flashed across Ian’s face. “You weren’t an intern, because you’re a Fine Arts major, not a Business student. He never paid you?”
Susan shook her head, staring at the tiles on the counter.
“That answers that question,” Ian said. “I’ll talk to Legal today. See how quickly we can terminate their contract.”
Susan hated the idea, though she liked the sentiment. “No. You can’t hurt your company just because of me.”
Mercy nudged Susan’s fingers, to draw her attention. “We would. Just because of you. But the only reason we haven’t booted Rice Real Estate before now is because they’re an old client. They don’t do TV, or internet. Doesn’t matter that Dad is worth billions; he’s not spending it on advertising. His company is such a teensy drop of our revenue, it won’t matter.” She looked amused saying those words. “Besides, if we found out they were doing this to anyone, we’d dump them. It happens faster because there’s bad blood.”