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Yes, this was a massive amount of manipulation on my part, but the school needs a win. And I need Bianca happy. She’s been complaining about Ridley’s spoiled attitude for years, accusing me of not being tough enough on her. Now that I know what I know—thanks to Hunter—that’s going to change.
I hustle back to the house and park the Range Rover out front, tossing the keys to Smith, the family’s personal driver. He’s outside and looking out of sorts at all our guests’ cars parked haphazardly on the side lawn. When I make my way to the back patio, our butler, Pearce, asks if I’d like something to drink. Good man, that Pearce.
I tell him I’ll take a Pimm’s cup. It’s a bit of a fussy drink but it’s perfect for late summer evenings and I feel like savoring the moment.
“I’ll be on the stairs keeping an eye on our guests, Pearce. Thank you.” He nods and I amble out to the terraced garden again, overlooking Ridley and her friends as they continue to lounge by the pool. The energy of the crowd has changed. I can only assume the chattering is about how they’re going to stage this massive coup.
And then all of the their phones begin to blow up while I watch the scene play out.
Perhaps I shouldn’t enjoy wielding this much control. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so petty. But I can’t help it. I come by it honestly. I wasn’t handed the family business; I earned it by busting my ass, failing, picking myself up, and trying again. I never got a bailout or even a single red cent of startup money from my father.
Whatever control I wield in my world, I’ve earned it.
I hear one of the girls shriek with displeasure at a text she’s just received.
I see Ridley’s shocked face when Hadley shows her the text.
A phone rings, and one of the other girls answers it. Just then Pearce appears next to me with my drink.
I nod at him and say, “Thank you, Pearce.”
He nods. “Will that be all, sir?”
I turn from him and sip my delicious drink, smiling over the scene. “Have Smith bring the kids’ cars around to the front. I have a feeling our guests will be leaving shortly.”
13
Hunter
If I went to bed last night with any doubts, I wake up filled with hope when my day begins with a text from Rushmore.
Good morning, beautiful.
So simple yet it sends a wave of warmth down my spine that settles in my belly.
I don’t text him back immediately. He knows he’s got my attention. No need to make him think I’m pining away, waiting for him to pay attention to me. Besides, there’s something wonderful and powerful knowing that I’ve got a drop dead gorgeous man and powerful CEO waiting around for me to text him back.
I practically waltz through the kitchen, making omelets and coffee in a dream state.
The smell finally rouses Dad from upstairs. He’s already dressed for work.
“Going in early today? When’s Mom coming home?”
He nods and says, “Her plane landed an hour ago. She’s headed straight to a hospital board meeting, so she’ll be home this afternoon.”
“Oh,” I say, slightly defeated. “I was hoping to talk to her about my independent study. I might need you guys to sign off on a couple of things I’m going to try this year.”
He shrugs and makes a satisfied noise while sipping his coffee. “I’m sure whatever you have in mind will be fine. Nice flowers.”
I chew the inside of my lip, waiting for Dad to ask where they came from. But he doesn’t ask.
“I got lots of nice compliments on closing night. Wish you and Mom could have been there.”
Dad pushes one of the omelets onto a plate and takes out a fork.
“Thanks for breakfast, sweetheart. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the show. Those shows are so long and I’m in the middle of discovery for this case, and it’s taking up all my time. But listen, I heard about Weston Ford and I promise you that Mom and I will not be missing a single swim meet this year. It’s exciting, isn’t?”
I’m so over it I’m ready to quit the swim team right then and there, bargain or no bargain with Rushmore. Instead I pivot and blurt out my entire plan for my independent study, because it has nothing to do with swim and everything to do with the future that I want.
