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Standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed over my chest, I vaguely hear Callum telling them I want to go home. It’s none of their business that John Robinson has been avoiding me. I need to find out what is going on with my father.
Having zoned out, Gareth’s voice pulls me back to the present. Standing before me, with his arm extended, he speaks.
“Kennedy, can you please come and sit? There is something I need to discuss with you. While you are going to get angry, I need you to hear me out.”
First, Callum said please downstairs, now, Gareth is saying it as well, not to mention they are using my real name instead of calling me Duchess. Warily, I sit on the edge of Rodney’s bed as Gareth sits on his across from me. Glancing at the others, Callum is sitting in one of the desk chairs, blocking the door. Rodney is leaning against the closed bathroom door, and Ashton sits next to me on the bed.
“Please tell me what is happening. The four of you look like you are expecting me to escape. I already know you are hiding something from me. Just rip the bandage off.”
Gareth’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “What do you mean, you know we are keeping something from you?”
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Last week, I woke up alone. All of you were in here talking. When I got up to see what was going on, you mentioned your father and that you have something planned.”
Each one of them wears a somewhat stunned expression. As if it never occurred to them that they were overheard, arrogant pricks.
Gareth recovers quickly, his poker face firmly in place. Ashton’s head drops back on his shoulder to look at the ceiling. Callum scrubs his hands over his face, and Rodney drops his gaze to the floor. If those actions aren’t depictions of guilt, I don’t know what is. Callum seems extra cautious as he tries to dig them out of the hole they are in.
“Kennedy, I am sorry…”
Gareth starts to speak next, but I cut him off, addressing Callum.
“Sorry that I overheard you talking and you got caught?”
Tension is mounting in the room. Deciding that enough is enough, I start to rise as Gareth tries again. His tone is muted, as if he is speaking to a spooky animal.
“Please let me get this out. There is something serious that you don’t know. I apologize for evading your privacy. But, as it turns out, the fact that I did turns out to work in your favor.”
Now, it’s my turn to be confused. Rubbing my eyes, ready to end this cryptic bullshit, I stand, wanting to leave. Ashton stands, putting a hand on my shoulder, urging me to sit back down. Once I’m seated, he speaks softly but loud enough that the guys easily hear him.
“Kennedy, please just hear Gareth out. Then, after you hear what he has to say, explaining what his father has done for you, you can storm off, rage, throw shit, whatever you need to do. But,please, give him twenty minutes.”
There is that word again, please. Silence envelops the room, each of the guys on edge, waiting for my response. I throw my hands out to the side, almost hitting Ashton.
“Fine, you have thirty minutes. If that isn’t enough time, tough shit.”
Gareth seems to let out a long breath. I am not sure he realized he was holding. He finally gives a quick nod in acknowledgment and explains.
“I was in your room…”
“Of course you were,” my tone is snarky since these men don’t know the meaning of privacy.
Gareth clears his throat, giving me a pointed look. My fingers move across my lips like they are zipping close, and then I toss an imaginary key over my shoulder. Gareth doesn’t look convinced that I will keep quiet but starts speaking again, regardless.
“As I was saying,” he looks at me pointedly. “I was in your room and stumbled across an envelope from a lawyer’s office in Pittsburg that you hadn’t yet opened.” Gareth holds his hands up in surrender just as my mouth opens to berate him. “I know it was wrong. Given the situation and knowing you were not directly involved, if the contents were about your father, we needed to know.”
What he did was wrong on so many levels, but I understand his reasoning. It doesn’t make me happy, though. “Get on with it,” I spit out through gritted teeth. “Since you went through my mail, what was in the envelope?”
Gareth seems uncharacteristically nervous. Taking a good long look at him, he is a chaotic mess. His hair is sticking up in all directions as if he can’t keep his hands out of it. He has dark circles under his eyes, and his facial hair is more grown in as if he hasn’t used a razor in days.
“Kennedy,” Gareth pauses, making sure he has my attention. He also seems to be gathering his thoughts and having an internal debate on his wording. “John Robinson has used the power of attorney authorization to screw you over. Did you sign some papers before you came here?” Gareth’s question is rhetorical, and he continues speaking. “In those papers, it gives him full authorization to do whatever he sees fit with your father’s assets. This includes the house, personal bank accounts, and business holdings.”
Being a law student would help me understand the full implications of what Gareth is trying to tell me. My words come out slowly, working through it all.
“Well, I signed papers so he could pay my tuition and house expenses. John is also the go-to for final decisions on the wells. Another guy at the company works directly under my father. So, I don’t understand what the issue is.”
Gareth gets off his bed, kneeling before me and taking my hands in his. My eyebrows raise in alarm, and every muscle in my body tenses.
“Kennedy, the paperwork copies he sent you gives him all decision-making authority over everything. John Robinson is in the process of selling your father’s house. He has already contacted another company to see about selling the wells, giving him a forty-nine percent interest in the income after the buy-out. He is not trying to defend your father, either. The only thing he has done, as he was supposed to do, is set aside money so the remainder of your tuition is paid in full until graduation.”
