“I know what it is,” he barks with frustration.
“There’s some things you don’t know about it…”
His eyes narrow as I tell him how I’m the reason the developers of Sanctuary were able to buy the property out from under him and shut down our Rancho Mirage plans. He works his jaw back and forth, and I worry that this will be the end of all the progress we’ve made. But I keep talking. I tell him what they’re trying to do now, and how Brandon is about to publish a story that will hurt me by driving a wedge between me and the people I care about in Serenity—the people I was trying to protect.
Malcolm listens without saying a word, without moving a muscle, besides when he clenches his jaw. He keeps his mouth pressed closed until I’m done talking.
“You’re the reason we lost that hotel.”
It’s not a question. He states it as fact, without emotion.
“Yeah.” I'm not sure what to make of his reaction, or lack of one.
“You may be more of a businesswoman than an actor,Francesca,” he says with a level of pride I’ve never heard in his voice before. At least not when he’s talking about me.
Malcolm doesn’t smile, but I do.
“I don’t go by Francesca, Dad. Just Frankie, actually.”
He lets out a laugh that turns into a cough. Not as long or as painful as the last one, which means the morphine is doing its job, but it also means I don’t have much time before he drifts off to sleep. His eyes are already closing.
“Is this a confession? You asking for my deathbed forgiveness? Because there’s nothing to forgive. It’s just business.” He opens his eyes slightly, and there’s a glimmer of hope there. “Or do you want advice?”
I tuck my fingers around his hand by my side. “Yeah…I want advice, Dad. I want your help.”
He smirks. “You want my money.”
“I wantmymoney, Dad. The money I earned,” I steady myself, then push on with the offer I’ve been crafting in my head since my convo this morning with Cal. “But if you want me to be part of BIG, I’ll do it, as long as we can buy out the other partners in Wild Coast and put Sanctuary back on track, doing what we promised—buying local, protecting the environment, leaving the beaches open to the public.”
Malcolm shifts in his bed and lets out a pained grunt. “Just Sanctuary? Or are you going to throw all the BIG money at hugging trees and saving the earth?”
There’s no bite in his words. He even offers what might pass for a grin.
So, I return the gesture. “Not just yet. But I’d like to move BIG in that direction. I do think there’s money to be made in eco-tourism. If I’m going to be a controlling partner, like you want, I’m not going to promise to be on board investing in projects or companies that don’t, at least, have some green initiatives.”
He growls, but he hasn’t moved his hand out of mine. In fact, he’s very close to holding my hand.
“I’ll carry on the Forsythe legacy, but it’s got to beForsythe, not just Malcolm Forsythe. I am who I am, in part because of you. So let who I am and what I believe in be part of your legacy too.”
His eyes drop. He rubs his nose, sniffs. If he were a different man, I’d think he were trying not to cry. But I’m not going to assign any emotions to Malcolm. I’m just going to love him for who he is—for the imperfect man and father that he is—and let go of everything else.
When his eyes meet mine again, he says, “Get Archie to be a part of it too. Maybe he can keep you in check. He’s done alright with Bombora.”
My mouth falls open, but before I can thank him, he’s speaking again. “I’ve left the two of you a controlling interest in BIG and given you both access to your trust funds. That’s it, though. Anything else I’ve left to you, you’ll inherit after proving yourselves.”
I don’t care what his stipulations are or how he expects me to “prove myself,” because I don’t care about any of his money except for what’s mine and what I can use to save Serenity Cove.
I turn and throw my arms around Malcolm’s neck, resting my cheek on his chest. “Thank you, Dad. Thank you.”
He doesn’t exactly hug me, but he pats my back, and I'm aware how much energy that takes for him right now. I think it may be the most tender moment we’ve ever shared.
“I love you,” I tell him for the first, and what may be the last, time.
He holds me just tight enough to count as a hug.
Chapter 25
Cal
