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“I am no longer interested,” Jaylen said tightly.
“That does not appear to be the case,” the man had pointed out. “You are here in my office because you are interested. You just do not know how to forgive. Perhaps we should invite your father in for a session.”
“That is not going to happen.”
“I would like you to think about it.”
“It is not going to happen.”
Tossing back the rest of the drink, he rose and went into the bedroom to freshen up. He might as well get the damn dinner over and done with.
*****
James dismissed the waiter as soon as his son came into the lovely blue and gold living room.
“Lobster quiche," he murmured as soon as he took his seat. “And a bottle of Cabernet. An excellent vintage.”
Jaylen nodded curtly as he unfolded his napkin. “We have an early start in the morning. The press is already sniffing around.”
“I saw them in the lobby. Did you invite me here to boost ratings?” Jaylen reached for the glass of wine and took a sip. He had decided to try and be civil. No matter how he felt, he was going to make this a damn pleasant evening.
His father’s mouth tightened and he could see that he was trying his best to rein in his temper. He could safely say he was not off to the best of starts.
“I don’t need you for that.”
“I don’t suppose you do. Where is the estimable and efficient Ms. Groves?” The woman had ignored him the entire flight, not that he had minded in the least.
“I suspect she is in her suite, fine tuning the press releases for tomorrow.” James picked at his meal, feeling his appetite dissolving. He had hoped that inviting him on the trip would achieve some sort of truce and unity between them.
“Right.”
They resumed eating in silence. It was during the delicious, tart Limoncello that he brought up the topic of Jaylen’s career.
“I noticed the billboards when we were coming in from the airport.” He was referring to the wildly popular loungewear that had been showcased in the glossy photo.
“So?”
“I just want to say that I am proud of you son. You have made a career out of what you love.”
Jaylen eyed him for a minute, looking for a hidden agenda. “Really?”
“Yes.” James bit off a sigh. “I am not the enemy here.”
“Sometimes it seems that way. And don’t think I did not notice your subtle ploy to get me to start seeing Anabel. I refuse to have my love life dictated by you or anyone for that matter. I saw right through her.”
“She is a sweet young woman from a very good family. And she happens to like you.”
Jaylen smiled grimly as he picked up his glass. “And I might have made a go of it if I did not smell your hand in the entire thing. When are you going to learn that I cannot and will not be manipulated?”
“I was not trying to manipulate you.” James felt the lid he had placed over his temper dissolving. The boy was determined to be difficult and he was sick of getting slapped in the damn face. “You are thirty years old and very soon, this very lucrative career of yours will be washed up.”
“It did not take too long, did it?” Jaylen’s green eyes smoldered. “Now we are getting to the real meat of the matter. You want me to tamely follow the rules. Get married, preferably to someone of your choosing, and take my rightful place in the company. Have I left anything out?”
“What the hell is wrong with that?” James filled his glass up, ignoring the tremors in his hand. “You are my only child, heir to that damn company. Is it that far-fetched that I would like to see you accept some responsibility and try to settle down? The company will be yours eventually.”
“I don’t want the damn company!” His eyes glittered as he shoved up and out of the chair. “It ruined Mother and made her unhappy. You were so focused on making money, building the company your father left you that you shut her in a room, screwed around on her, and then left her.”
“You don’t get to speak to me that way.” James lunged to his feet, his own eyes glittering. “I am still your damn father and I demand respect—"
