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“If he can’t see what a damn gift you two are, then. Fuck. Him,” Cas enunciates. “What a selfish jerk.”
The ghost of a smile makes my mouth twitch.
“Meanwhile, you’ve got more important things to worry about,” he says. “Like Coach Zeke. Tell me all about the hot diving coach you’re working for.” Cas rubs his hands and leans in.
“Ew,” I say, taken aback. “What are you talking about, hot? That’s my coach. Boss. Whatever. He’s like, fifty.”
“He’s forty-two,” says Cas, arching an eyebrow. “And we should think about expanding your horizons.”
“I’ve expanded my horizons enough for one year, thank you very much,” I say, my stomach clutching. God. There’s a West-shaped hole in my life, right there on the very horizons we’re talking about. The question I’ve been dancing around for the last two weeks finally bubbles out of me. “Is it going to feel like this forever?”
“Oh, Raleigh.” Cas sets our mugs down and hugs me hard before pulling me to my feet. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Ice cream,” he says. “It’s cliché for a reason. And then we’re going to get your mojo back.”
“Really,” I say with a heavy dose of skepticism. “And how are we going to do that?”
“Same way we do everything else,” he says, throwing me my coat. “Baby steps.”
30
West
The weeks blur. My days are freer than they’ve been in years, thanks to Dad’s not-so-hostile takeover. The management team looks at me like they’re surprised I’m still bothering to show up to the office. Can’t deny they have a point.
Sully has called about a hundred times. Finn has not.
At this point I’ve made so many mistakes I’m not sure which one’s the biggest, but one thing’s for sure—I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life. Betraying Finn’s trust and laying hands on his sister? Maybe. Touching Callahan in the first place? Probably.
Letting Raleigh and Callie walk away after I told them I was done… That’s the one that doubles me over. I’ve never felt regret like this.
If I could go back to them, somehow talk them into letting me in the door, let alone back into their lives… but even if I could, Dad’s threats hold me back like a choke chain.
Like a noose. The closer I get to them, the closer I am to losing them forever.
My grandmother’s summons is not unexpected, but I cannot bring myself to care. She waits until I close the office door behind me.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Of what, Grandmother?” I ask.
“This.” She taps a meticulously manicured fingernail on a stack of papers on her desk. “This is a copy of every weekly report I’ve received from retail over the past twelve weeks. Explain to me, Weston, why the last three reports suddenly appear identical to the reports I received before you arrived from Chicago.”
I don’t say anything at all, recognizing the incoming riot-act.
“If I wanted reports from my son, I’d have left him in charge of the division,” she says, arching a brow.
Might as well get myself fired today; my father gets what he wants and more importantly, Raleigh and Callahan are safe from any more of his machinations. If I’m out of the picture altogether, he’ll have no reason to go after them. Nothing left to lose, I shrug. “He’s taken over as head of the department,” I say.
“I beg your pardon.” It’s not a question.
“It was made clear that my involvement was neither necessary nor welcome,” I say. “Erwin Thorpe appears to have everything under control.”
Grandmother sits back in her chair, an uncharacteristic show of informality.
“Does he now,” she says, tapping the stack of reports slowly. “Weston, who informed you that your ‘involvement’ was not welcome?”
