Page 65 of The Logic of Loyalty

You are being dramatic. Spam has its merits. You have to try it at least once, and Paige didn’t get sick as often with the saltier, sketchier meats.

Bethany

You’re using my unborn neph-nieces against me. Monster

I’ll add it to the grocery list. You’re lucky I adore your family.

Trevor

I am lucky you adore my family.

Thank you, again, for doing this.

Bethany

Stop thanking me. It wasn’t for you. Nerd.

We haven’t talked about the series of events that led to her moving in with my family, but I know it has to do with the day I picked her up and the man trying to stare me down.

Bobby stands outside of my father’s office and points his finger aggressively in my direction, shockingly similar to the way my father did it to him. “If you told that old man or your sister what you think you saw, you’re going to regret it. Shit is brewing, Trev. I’d do my best to avoid further complications if I were you.” He shoulder checks me when he passes by, heading into the office. Finger by finger, I relax my fist until I’m able to stand unbothered. I know what’s about to happen, and Bobby thinks he has shit in motion.

“Trevor, my boy, sit down. Do you have your laptop so you can bring up the forecast you came up with the other day?” I raise my empty hands, and he shakes his head in brief and quickly forgotten disappointment. “No matter. No matter.” He’s patting his pockets—pants, jacket, then shirt, until he pulls out a flash drive. A very familiar flash drive. “I have everything right here.” He turns to a visibly confused Bobby and frowns. The lines on his aging face deepen with the scowl. “Bobby, take a seat.”

“Richard, I⁠—”

“I’ll talk.”

Bobby’s mouth shuts with an audible click, and his jaw pulses with that temper he showed me in the hallway, but he only bites when he thinks he’s the big dog. I’d love for him to lose it now, but he tucks his tail and sits silently where he’s told.

“Trevor has found something remarkable, and his numbers have skyrocketed in the last few weeks. He is out-earning you by double this month, and I need you to get your head out of your ass and match him. I don’t care how you do it. I just care that you do.” Richard wanders to his bar area, pouring a finger of scotch for himself. He turns to me and lifts it as if offering one to me. My eyes widen in surprise, but before my father can take my expression as acceptance, I stand, buttoning and straightening my jacket.

“I have a call I need to make in ten, but I appreciate the recognition, Richard.” This is what happens when half my clients aren’t being pulled out from under my nose.

“Richard? Come on, Trevor. Call me Dad when it’s only family around.” He gestures to Bobby and chuckles as if I’m being hilarious or ridiculous, but nothing beyond cold disbelief fills my skin. The last interaction I had with him in this office went vastly differently.

“As for you—” The door shuts behind me with a loud click. I pause long enough to hear Bobby get an earful about underperforming. The word probation drops, and I couldn’t be more pleased with the results of my hard work.

It’s amazing how much can change in only a few weeks. The morning after the fourth, when my father insisted that I come in to finish cleaning up his mess, I decided to take my concerns about certain behaviors to him.

“I need to tell you something.” I don’t wait for permission, looking both ways in the hallway before shutting my father’s door behind me.

“Jesus, William, don’t be dramatic. Just tell me whatever it is you need to and get back to work.” Dad wanders around his office, stopping and deliberately straightening a plaque declaring him The Twentieth Annual Trumann Charity Tournament Champion. What’s not on the plaque is the list of only six men who participated.

At his massive oak desk, I take my customary seat across from him, but change my mind and stand up again. Anxiety and bile climb up my throat in equal measure at what I need to do, and pacing sounds far more palatable.

“What’s the—” My voice croaks, so I try again. “What’s the fraternization policy here?” I already know, but I want to make sure before I continue. I pray maybe it’s changed.

“I don’t give a shit how my employees get their dicks wet.” He chuckles at his own crass response before he quiets and shoots me a look full of unwelcome interest. “Why? Did you finally give in to the little Wilder girl?” His laugh is warm and genuine and makes me sick. He slams his fist on his desk a few times to emphasize that pleasure in my supposed infidelity in my marriage. Unfortunately, he’s not done. Nauseating pride coats his voice. “’Bout time, my boy.” He nods and taps his hands on the desk. He looks up suddenly, eyes sharp. “Oh, Paige found out, didn’t she?” That’s why you’re all twisted up. Hell, you got married so young I know you didn’t sign a pre-nuptial. We can probably get her to sign⁠—“

“Enough!” His words seep into my skin and make me feel slimy. I can’t take it. “It wasn’t me, I strongly suspect it’s Bobby. Your daughter’s boyfriend.”

He straightens at my tone, then slowly leans forward, elbows on the desk, as I confess my concerns.

“What do you need me to do? What do you possibly think I can or will do about this?” He shakes his head, dipping it down to rest in his hand. The disappointment warms me for a millisecond. “Krista is available, and Bethany is … Bethany.” My warmth turns to ice and bile in my guy. “Do you really blame him, son? Be realistic and grow up. Men like us don’t just settle for one, especially when those are the two options.” I shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed, but I still am as he finishes burying any good he had left as a human being—his job as a father to Bethany.

When I proceeded to tell him that bringing Krista to dinner made me uncomfortable, considering what I know, I was mocked and kicked out of the office. He never told anyone what I suspected, and he threatened me if I even tried to do the same.

I told Bethany, and later, I told her that our father knew my suspicions. She didn’t look surprised to hear about his reaction, and that made me feel worse.