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*****
“My dear, you’re barely eating. Would you like me to ask Mrs. Williams to send something different out? The veal might be too rich- “
“Daddy, I’m fine.” She forced a smile as she took up her wine glass. “Tell me about the merger. Is it something you want to do?”
He waved a hand and reached for his glass of water. He looked tired, she thought with a pang. She’d wondered many times if he ever regretted not having a son who would have taken his rightful place in the company.
“We’re living in a different time now.” He took a sip of the water before putting away the glass. “The oil business isn’t what it used to be. We ventured into opening up gas stations which I’m not sure was a good idea.
The wells are drying up and, with the senseless wars popping up all over the globe, it’s making it even more difficult.” He smiled at her. “I’m not saying all this to frighten you or for you to think that we’re losing our status and place in society. It isn’t that bad.”
“Our place in society,” She dug into her salad even though she didn’t have the appetite for it. “Is that so essential?”
Her father stared at her with a frown. “My dear, what on earth do you mean?”
“I get that our family dates back for generations- “
“We have ties to royalty.” The pride in his voice bordered on pompousness and arrogance and had her wincing slightly.
“Which doesn’t or shouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. I’ve seen what people with so-called pedigree can do to other people and it sickens me. What should matter is a person’s character and the fact that he or she is prepared to work for what they want.”
“The society we belong to isn’t perfect.” There was that pompous tone again that was making her irritable. “But the fact is, we should be grateful that we belong to such a society.”
“At one point in history, our ancestors were slaves.” She shook her head as he opened his mouth. “I’m sorry if what I’m saying offends you, Daddy, but I heard some disturbing news earlier today.
The Willoughby’s are involved in a very nasty and public divorce and both husband and wife are determined to air their dirty linen in public.” She shot him a look. “Did you know Charlene was having multiple affairs and Ben, who happens to be our family doctor, has been accused of sleeping with underage girls?”
“That’s just ugly speculation and gossip designed to take a good man down.” He said dismissively.
“Allegations based on facts. Some of those girls are coming out and speaking of it.” She dug into her salad. “He treated me for years- “
“Has he ever touched you in an inappropriate manner?” He demanded.
“No. If that had happened, believe me when I say, he would have regretted it.”
“He’s a good man.”
“Who had sex with underage girls. Look,” She picked her wine up and realized she was putting her frustrations and misery on her Dad. “This isn’t the kind of thing we should be talking about around the dinner table, but it bothers me.”
“He’ll get the best lawyers who’ll work things.” He sent her an appraising look. “Is something else the matter?”
“No. Why?”
“You haven’t been yourself since you came back from that trip. This friend of yours, is everything okay?”
She felt the guilt surging through her body and had to avoid his eyes.
“Everything is fine. I’m just caught up with all the misery of the world and you’re a perfect scapegoat for my distress.” She tried for a smile and succeeded. “The little girl, Chloe, will be getting the care she needs. We just need to sort the parents and the rest of the children out.”
“You will.” He smiled at her; their balance restored as far as he was concerned.
*****
He called her. Swallowing his pride, he got through the rest of the day and called after he got back to his place. It'd been a crappy day all round and as soon as he stepped into his apartment, it got worse. It was empty. He laughed shortly at that.
He didn’t want a show home. He might be new money, but he knew exactly what he wanted. Hardwood floors instead of carpets and gaily-colored rugs. The living room was breathtaking, with the massive fireplace dominating one entire section.
The cabinet was well stocked. Shedding his jacket and throwing it carelessly over the arm of a leather chair, he strode over to pour a glass of whiskey.
