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“Good. I saw the girls, relaxed, made dinner.”
“Did you talk about me?” His broad grin split his face, making me want to reach over and take his face in my hand and squeeze.
“Actually, I did. I needed to vent. They all took your side, by the way.” I took a bite. “Assholes,” I said, my mouth full.
“Hmm,” he murmured thoughtfully.
“Told me I was taking things too personally. That I needed to hear you out.”
He smirked, then chuckled. “Have I told you how much I like them?”
I speared more pasta onto my fork. “Yes. Smartass.”
“They’re great. Beautiful, devoted, andsmart.” I knew that the last word referred to them coming to his defense, but I let it slide. I wasn’t going to divulge to him that we had gone round and round about how pissed off I was about what he’d said. How they’d told me to put myself in his shoes and finally helped me see things from his perspective. He’d apologized, so had I. All in all, everything worked out.
“They’ve always got my back. Always.” We both went for another bite, playfully going after the same tube-shaped pieces, playing out a battle with our utensils. “And how was your day?” I asked, grinning after I successfully got the bite he’d been fighting for.
“After you left, Matthew and I worked a bit, hashed some things out, and are planning on moving forward with some new ideas.”
My interest was piqued. He’d caught my attention. “New ideas?” I asked, trying not to sound overly eager. I was genuinely interested in what these new ideas were. But I was also nosy.
“After finding out that Walter came out here, I had some things I needed to take care of.”
“Who’s Walter?”
“He works for us.”
I tilted my head in confusion.
“He’s the guy who talked to your grandfather the other day.”
My fork dropped into the bowl. “What guy? What are you talking about?” My heart was racing. Why did he know something that I didn’t? Especially something involving Pops.
“Shit,” he muttered. “You didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
“I thought they’d told you. Jesus. I’m sorry.”
“Told me what?” I demanded. “What do you know that I don’t?”
“My father texted me, threatened to send that fucking vulture out here. And he did. He sent Walter here to convince them to sell.”
“Sell?” My throat was dry. “When? When did he come?” I asked, my heartbeat racing, my temperature rising.
“I had no control over it. You have to believe me. My father—”
“When?” I demanded, cutting him off.
He exhaled in disgrace. “Matthew told me today it was the day Pops had his heart attack.”
“What the fuck?” I jumped off the bed, the bowl tipping over, spilling onto the comforter. I didn’t care. “How could you do this?” My arms were flailing with my yelling. “How could you let this happen? How could you not tell me?”
Michael slipped off the bed, grabbed my shoulders. “I didn’t do anything, Siena. I didn’t know until after it happened.”
I yanked out of his hold, stomped over to where my pants lay in a heap on the floor, and shoved my legs in. “The hell you didn’t! This was all part of your plan. Part of your selfish, scheming, cheating plan.”
“What are you talking about?”
