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“Wanna guess? I researched it and the answer is two, but the number of negative articles mentioning McAllister, there are dozens across Forbes, Fortune, and the Journal alone. Corporate juggernaut is as complementary as it gets, but the disparaging comments aren’t pretty.”
Dad’s jaw ticked as he turned red.
She pointed a finger at him. “That’s all on you. You have no right to criticize your son for not fixing in a month a reputation you destroyed over the course of decades.”
Dad’s jaw clenched. “I’ll give you a week.” He said the words to me, ignoring Alexa and walked to the door. “Son, you better get your priorities straight. You have a decision to make.” He opened the door and walking out.
CHAPTER25
Alexa
After the doorclosed behind Fergus, Evan ran his hand through his hair and sighed out a huge breath. “I have to go out.” Evan was leaving and all that remained was for him to tell me be cleared out by the time he got back.
I looked down at my shoes. Fear or what he’d say next rooted me in place. Me and my big mouth. I’d yelled at his father and made everything worse for him.
Fergus had deserved it. I couldn’t just sit still and let him berate Evan unfairly, and even Fergus had known he hadn’t been fair. Understanding how mean his father could be, what he’d done to Daddy, to our whole family, I had no doubt that he’d use every tool at his disposal to ruin Evan’s life if he wanted to.
I’d once called Evan a Devil in a tux, but since learned that wasn’t at all true. The only real devil in the family was his father.
Why couldn’t I learn to control my temper and just let Fergus say what he wanted without responding? They were only words, and words couldn’t hurt us unless we let them, unless we believed them. It had been my job to help, not hurt. In the end, I’d failed Evan.
Evan sighed again and checked his pockets.
I blinked back the tear that threatened as I waited for the command to leave.
He came around the coffee table and took my hand. “We need to go.”
Following along silently I was grateful for his hand, for the touch that bound us, if even for only a minute longer.
“Careful,” he said after he pushed the elevator call button. He wiggled his fingers.
Only then did I realize I was clamped down on his hand like it was my lifeline. I loosened my grip but didn’t let go. Hold his hand gave me strength. I needed this small contact with him, it was the only thing keeping my from breaking out in tears at what I’d done. “I’m sorry. I guess…”
“That was intense.” He squeezed my hand back, but it was his eyes that conveyed the message to stop talking—for a change.
We made it down to the street enveloped in a thick cloud of silence, but still linked by our hands. I was scared sick to ask anything.
Evan turned us left out the door. “This way, Brooklyn.” Then he took us left again at the first cross street. His steps were brisk, determined.
Almost jogging to keep up with him, I decided least this was better than leaving the condo and telling me to be gone by the time he returned—a little better. It looked like I’d get some sort of speech about how family was important, his job was important, and blah, blah, blah.
It would still amount to him explaining the decision his father had forced on him—choose disgraceful Brooklyn broad and family warfare, or choose family loyalty and keep his job.
“Almost there,” Evan urged as he pulled me forward.
Fergus was mean to the core, and would obviously do anything to get his way. I could only be glad that I wasn’t a part of such a dysfunctional family.
Evan lived for his job and knew it his destiny to run it some day. It easy to understand that I didn’t stand a chance in the choice he had to make. All that remained was the breakup speech.
What could I say anyway, what sway could I have against the force of his father’s threats. I couldn’t blame Evan for making the logical choice. Anybody in his position would be forced to give in to the pressure his father applied.
Just thinking about it fried my brain and made it hard to walk fast enough to keep up. Regardless, I resolved to stay strong, to not cry, to accept the inevitable.
Mid-block, Evan slowed. “We’re here.” The sign read Doomsday Pizza.
On the way here, I’d run through a half dozen ways for Evan to dump me, and each made my stomach turn more than the last. Maybe the easiest way to avoid the heartache was for me to make a quick exit.
Thanks for the great dinners and keeping my name out of the papers, and letting me see how the other half lives. It’s been great, but I get it. We are from families that are incompatible and it was never going to work once they found out. I’m going to leave before I create any more friction in your life and get back across the river where I belong. Take care of yourself, Evan.
