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Dad studied him. “I’ll get back to you about the offering price.”
“In other words, pay up, boys.” Rory’s mouth stretched with humor.
Dad laughed, then broke off. His face turned a dusky shade. He moved out of Rory’s grasp and doubled over, coughing.
Concern snaked up Rory’s spine. “Hey! Are you all right?”
The older man gasped, then sputtered, “F-fine. Water.”
Rory hurried to the side table, then poured water from a sweat-beaded carafe. Dad took the glass with shaky hands and drained it. The rosy hue receding, his breathing returned to normal.
“Are you okay? Need more?” This … incident … had become more than a coughing fit.
“I’m fine now.” Other than a raspy voice, Dad seemed recovered.
“When was your last doctor’s appointment?”
The older man looked away. “Becca keeps up with those.”
At the first opportunity, Rory would ask. Dad notoriously skipped medical-related appointments. Help me here, Lord.
“What do you need? Dinner? We could celebrate your close on the land deal.” Further discussion about Dad’s health would be counterproductive.
“Naw, I’m headed home to put my feet up. Call Jess instead. The two of you forked over the money.”
“Your expert broker skill made it happen.” Rory wrapped an arm around Dad’s shoulders. Had the man shrunk? He’d always seemed ten feet tall. “Thanks. I appreciate this.”
Dad’s eyes were moist. He reached up, placing his hand on Rory’s. “Pure pleasure, son.” He walked out of the room, slower than usual.
Rory turned back to his desk. He grabbed his phone but decided against calling Jesse. He and Brenna probably had plans. Did those two ever take a night off?
Dare he ask Vi? Her last no still reverberated. Rory picked up a pen and clicked the end cap. Open. Shut. She’d looked so cute in those plum-colored scrubs this morning. What he wouldn’t give to see her all dressed up. Hmm. The gala loomed a little over a week away. Since Paige had declined, he’d better secure a date, or else he’d be fending off not-so-subtle advances all evening. His fingers punched her number though wisdom cautioned him otherwise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Hey, Rory.” Vi’s cheerful greeting gave him courage.
Rory pumped his fist, then switched to speaking mode. “Hey, yourself. Whatcha doing?”
“Cyrus and I are about to head home. Good training session today, but it’s too cold outside. We’re both shivering.”
“I guess so. Hey, Dad closed a special deal. I want to tell you about it and celebrate. Have dinner with me?” He pulled more air into his lungs.
Vi’s long pause didn’t bode well. “We’ve talked about this, Rory.”
Jaw clenching, his earlier grumpiness flared with a vengeance. “No, we haven’t. You said no, and that was the end of it.”
Silence.
“Talk to me, Vi.”
“I need to go.” She sounded upset. Saying no was tearing her heart out, only he didn’t know why.
Before he could formulate a response, she whispered, “Bye, Rory.”
When Rory realized she’d hung up, all self-control deserted him. Jumping from his chair, he aimed the phone at a soft couch pillow and fired. Then he yelled a word he hadn’t uttered since Afghanistan. He paced, raking a hand through his hair.
“This woman is driving me crazy!” he gritted the words out between harsh breaths. “God, I need somebody to talk to.” Movements jerky, he lowered to the couch and leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, head in his hands.
