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“I was hired to care for this family.” Our eyes momentarily meet. “Not the estate.”
And that’s all he’s ever done.
That’s all I can ever remember him doing.
Laughing with my mother.
Drinking with my father.
Bandaging my bruises.
Clark has always been an extra parent.
Not a replacement.
Maybe that’s the guilt that got the better of me when sentencing Penny to being exiled rather than eliminated. I have had her father actively in my life for my entire existence, yet the most time she had with him was when she was here. His dedication to us led to separation from her and that very well may be the reason she acted in desperation on what she believed was his behalf.
Why she thought getting rid of Lauren would’ve helped her success.
Why her obsession with me – the child her father was always around for – became what it did.
Perhaps she convinced herself she was following in his footsteps when it came to my care.
Or perhaps she was nothing more than a lost daughter who believed she was out of options.
Whatever the case may be, that’s between her and the mental health facility she is secured at in Switzerland.
Once he’s finished fixing the area, he moves onto straightening a button. “Your second in command is waiting for you in the entryway.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course, sir.”
I place a gentle palm on his hand at the same time I correct. “Wes.”
Clark adoringly smiles and nods. “Wes.”
Downstairs near the front door, J.T. appears to be mumbling to himself as he paces the floor. “No, Pham. I am not dating Lane Hollander. She is simply a real estate agent I introduced to an acquaintance who is looking to purchase property in that area. Nothing more.” His head falls back in obvious irritation. “No. I am not hiding something.” He abruptly stops and expels an annoyed huff. “I understand the concern. It’s…noted.” One click of the button ends their convo yet starts ours. “You’re awfully dressed up for a conference call.”
“I won’t be on the call.” A nervous adjustment to my black sleeves is executed. “I’ll be there in person.”
The quirked brow I’m shot isn’t a surprise. “Where in person?”
“The meeting.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“I mean why?” He shoves both of his hands into his navy-blue suit pants pockets. “Why are you attending this meeting? It’s just another discussion regarding the Morgan Brand acquisition. It’s nothing new or unique, so to speak.” J.T. does his best to hide what I would guess is outrage. “Do you suddenly not trust me to do my job? To speak on your behalf? On behalf of this company?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Then why are you attending in person?”
“Why don’t you want me there in person?”
“I don’t want you there because we both know you don’t want to be there, Wes.” His gaze bores deeply into mine. “You being there helps you avoid being somewhere else. And that somewhere else…” the lifting of his eyebrows causes me to shift my weight in discomfort, “is ten times more important than another bullshit boardroom meeting.”
