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“No, I want answers. Right here. Right now.”
“Fine.” He grabs my purse. “You have a device in your bag.”
I rip open my bag. “A device, what kind of device?” I root through it but find nothing. “There’s no device in here.”
“It’s in the lining.”
My jaw drops. This purse was a birthday gift, a one of a kind purse, made by one of my father’s trusted designers.
“Oh, my God. I can’t believe you did this.” I rip into the lining, and tear at it like a crazy person. “You’ve been listening to all my conversations? What is the matter with you?”
“You’re my daughter.” He scoffs and looks around. “You obviously need looking after.”
“I do not need anything from you.” Not anymore, anyway. I used to think I needed his approval but this is too much. He’s gone too far. My stomach coils, and I try to get my breathing under control. “Are your businesses even in trouble?”
He shoves his hands into his pockets and gives me a reprimanding look, treating me like I’m a child who’s dared to question their parent’s authority. “Business is fine isn’t it?” I give a humorless laugh. “I did all this for nothing, and you only told me that to finally get me married to the right man of your choice.”
“Londyn,” he begins, and I shake my head.
“No, you don’t get to say anything to me.”
He waves his phone at me. “What are you going to do now? Run back to lover boy who thinks you’re nothing but a joke.”
“No,” I say. “You’re wrong. He didn’t say those things back in college.” I point to the recorder. “And he’s not saying those things now. You’re manipulating this somehow.” He opens his mouth and I shake my head. “Don’t even try to deny it.” I refuse to believe anything he says to me. Not after what Cason and I have been through. Yes, many years ago, I was quick to believe my father, when he had a lot more influence on me, but he’s not a good man. A good man would never treat his daughter the way mine treats me. He’d care about what I wanted, not what made the family look better, or the fiscal bottom line.
He frowns. “Everything I’ve done has been for your own good.”
“So you admit it then?” I glare at him “You edited the recording?”
“I’m not admitting anything...”
I breathe in and out, and as my breath turns to fog, my father continues to talk, but I’m not listening. No, I’m remembering all the times I asked Cason if he thought I was silly. It confused him. Not because he forgot, but because he never said those cruel words in the first place. My father will stop at nothing to get what he wants, even breaking Cason and me up all those years ago so he could get a jump on the app idea.
Oh, no!
Had he overheard our conversation about Soft Wear? He doesn’t have access to my designs, but it’s possible he heard me talking about the styles and details that would appeal to Soft Wear clientele.
My throat tightens, a gurgling sound caught in the depths. “I have to go.”
“Don’t you dare—”
I turn and walk away, my footsteps fast on the pavement. I can’t let my father come between us again. I won’t.
I pinch my eyes shut and pray it’s not too late.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cason
I TAKE ONE DEEP BREATH after another, trying to wrap my brain around Londyn’s deception. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I the stupidest man on Earth? A garbled sound crawls out of my throat, because as I stare at the new domain name, owned by Randolph Harding, there can only be one answer to that. I am the world’s biggest idiot.
The front door opens, and closes, and I shove my hands into my pockets and work to get my temper under control, but that’s like putting toothpaste back in the tube. Impossible.
“Cason,” she calls out, her voice shaky and a bit hesitant.
Does she really think I didn’t recognize her on the street?
I step from my office and her eyes go wide when she sees me. There’s no hiding my anger. We stand there for a long time, like we’re in a goddamn standoff, and my mind races with all the unanswered questions.
