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“I know. I spent years hating Victor, thinking that he had set out to destroy my family for no good reason,” she reflects. “I can’t believe Dad, himself, was the reason behind it.” The stunned look on Mandy’s face is a mirror image of mine.
“I would give anything right now to have a conversation with Dad.” I close my eyes and try to get a grip on my feelings, but tears escape from the corners of my eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Trey.” I can hear that Mandy is succumbing to her emotions as well. “I was wondering why Dad practically begged me not to confront him.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I actually went to his office the week I was in New York. I wanted to hear firsthand why he betrayed our family. After sitting in the reception area for nearly an hour I called home to kill some time,” she explains. “When Dad answered, I told him where I was and he came completely unglued. I’m sure he knew that Victor would level with me about what had really happened.”
“That was just a few days before he was killed?” I ask, just trying to put together the timeframe.
“Yeah, it was that Tuesday,” she replies. “Since Dad didn’t want me to talk to him, I left his office and sought out a mercenary instead.” She seethes with sarcasm. “I had a hundred grand in cash that was burning a hole in my pocket.”
“I wasn’t implying that you did it, for Christ sake. Relax, Sis.” I laugh and shake my head. The admission, however, did bring her father into the mix. Having someone killed to keep an age-old affair under wraps seems like a bit of a stretch though.
Mandy gives me a look and turns her attention back to the menu. We both need a good meal and some time to decompress. I pull up the Hermitage web site on my phone and scroll through the spa services. “Would you like a massage and facial after breakfast?”
“Definitely!” She asserts without a hint of hesitation.
“Would you like a manicure or pedicure as well?” I ask, scrolling through the list.
“Why not.” She shrugs. “I need something to take my mind off of everything.”
“Exactly. I think I’ll just get one long massage while you do the whole package.” Hopefully it will relieve some of this tension.
Mandy
This hotel is amazing, our room is gorgeous and breakfast was absolutely delicious. I should be relaxing and enjoying this wonderful massage, but instead my mind keeps processing everything Trey told me. I know he wants me to suppress my feelings simply because Dad didn’t want me to know about it, but I can’t do that. I need him to explain why he did that to Mom and our family.
I begin thinking about my grandfather and how he lost his best friend, someone he had been close friends with for fifty years. I can’t believe Dad didn’t own up to his mistake and take the blame for it. My heart begins to ache as I feel the respect I once had for my father fading into oblivion. It suddenly dawns on me why Dad never complained much about what had happened. I was always under the impression that he was being the bigger man. What a fucking disgrace. I guess I better wait a while before I talk to him.
“You are really tight,” the masseur says with a strong French accent as he works the muscles between my shoulder blades.
“I’m sure. We had a long flight and it’s been a stressful morning,” I explain before falling silent once again. Since I’m trying to relax, I decide to avoid striking up a conversation with a complete stranger.
Even though my mouth has fallen silent, the thoughts continue to churn relentlessly through my mind. Dad is right about one thing though; this would kill Mom. My older sister, Darla, on the other hand would kick his ass. Maybe I should tell her about his indiscretions. I can feel my cheeks pushing against the face cradle as a smile crosses my face. She would rip him a new one.
Chapter 2
Trey
After an hour and a half of massaging, I can’t lie here for another minute. There are way too many questions and thoughts running through my head. I know Mom is awake by now and has had her first cup of coffee, so she is fair game. I need to know when Dad found out about the affair and if that was the reason behind him skipping our birthday. Even though it’s been nearly two decades, that day still haunts me.
I send Mandy a text to enjoy herself and meet me back at the room when she is finished. Even though it’s only two in the afternoon my eye is quick to spot a bottle of Camus Cuvee Cognac high above the bar while walking past. Dad taught me to always judge an establishment by the highest bottle on display.
