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“What do you mean, give you a bit?”
“Don’t do anything yet. More soon.” I disconnect and glance at Blake. “I need to go home and talk to Alana.”
By the time we’re on the road, she calls me. “Morning, baby,” I greet, a mental image of her dark hair splayed like silk on her pillow, her slumber deep and relaxed. She was home, safe, and she knew it, and I wish like hell I would have been able to stay to accent that fact.
“Lana called me,” she announces.
“Delilah called me.”
“Oh,” she says, and I can almost see the cute quirk of her dipped brows. “Did she—what did she say?”
“You first.”
“I blasted your father on live TV. It was a big hit. The studio wants to do a recorded interview to play off the success and film this afternoon. I agreed before talking to you. I woke up in our bed, and I wanted to just be happy and be done with all of this. At the time that meant apply more pressure on your father. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said yes without talking to you, because it places attention on you, too. I didn’t think that through the first time, but I am now.”
“Delilah told me about the interview. She was concerned I’d be pissed that the studio went around me when I’m on the board.”
“Yes. Yes. I thought of that after the call. You would have told me before she did, if you knew. Why would they do that?”
“I’m not surprised. Money and ratings rule their world. It’s the philosophy of don’t ask and apologize later.”
“Surely they would think I’d tell you.”
“You told the world we broke up, Alana.”
She is silent a beat, her torment beating through the space between us. “I really was trying to protect you, Damion.”
“I know, baby. Just as I was you. I’ll be home in a couple of minutes.”
“I thought you had to go to the office.”
“I do, but we need to talk this out in person. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, I…I’ll see you then. Damion, I love you. You know that, right?”
“I think I’m the one who needs to ask you that question. I’m the one who took a damn lifetime to tell you, and I wish I could turn back time and change that. I’ll see you soon.” I disconnect and dial my assistant.
Naomi answers on the first ring. “Damion. Please tell me you’re coming in, because I’ve had three calls from board members trying to find you in the fifteen minutes I’ve been trying to call you. What is going on?”
What indeed, I think, remembering my father’s words yesterday, urging me to attend a meeting that had meant nothing to me when Alana was missing. Which he knew. Which he took advantage of. “Set-up a board meeting,” I say. “Tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll try. Any alternate times?”
“Nine in the morning. Tell them they can come or don’t come. That’s on them, but tell them we’ll be talking about the liability related to their signed voting agreements.” I disconnect and dial Max, our ever so involved board member who knows too much about what is going on too often.
He answers on the first ring. “About fucking time. I’ve left you half a dozen messages.”
He’s not wrong, but the last thing on my mind since Alana went on TV was board politics. “And now you have me.”
“What the fuck is going on? Why is Alana Blue on TV accusing your father of killing her father? I’ve asked him, and he keeps telling me she’s lashing out at him to make you pay for breaking up with her. And why the fuck haven’t you been taking my calls?”
“We’re talking now,” I say, “and is there any part of my father’s explanation that makes sense to you? I didn’t break-up with Alana, she broke up with me to protect me, when she’s the one who needs protection at this point. Thankfully, I’ve talked sense into her and got her that protection. She believes he killed her father, Max.”
“Do you?”
My teeth grind together. “I do.”
He hesitates a moment. “Why? Why would he kill her father?”
