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“I’m sure his mother is a wonderful lady,” my grandmother admonishes. “I think what you’re looking for is complete asshole.”
“And then some,” I agree. “He shouldn’t be calling you. What did he even want?”
“I didn’t answer it.”
“Good.”
“I mean that I didn’t see the call when it came through. I would’ve answered, if I had.”
I sigh and scrub my face. “Why in the hell would you do that, Gran? You don’t owe that man a damn thing. He’s not your son.”
“He was my son-in-law, once.”
“Once,” I agree. “But he did a piss-poor job of that.”
“Sweetheart, maybe he’s trying to make amends,” my grandmother says. “I wouldn’t deny him that. Everybody deserves a second chance.”
“Fuck, no,” I tell her. “Not this guy. I used to think that too. Used to give him the benefit of the doubt. But he has no interest in changing. He just wants something. And he needs to stay the fuck out of your life. Don’t answer his calls. Don’t return that one. And let me know immediately if he tries to reach out again.”
My grandmother clucks at me. “You’re too protective, Declan. There’s no way to know what his motives are without hearing him out.”
I could guess at his motives. And there’s no way I could be overprotective of my grandmother. She doesn’t have anyone to take care of her anymore besides the staff I insist on keeping around her so that she’s not doing her own cleaning or cooking. She’s an old woman. She deserves to enjoy her golden years.
And if I couldn’t protect my mother from my father, then I can at least protect my grandmother from him.
“I love you, Gran,” I tell her. “I want to make sure you’re safe and happy. That’s all.”
“I love you too, Declan,” she says. “Even if you are a control freak.”
We both laugh at that.
“How’s work going?” she asks, and I think of Sophie before I can think of anything else. No. That needs to stop. That’s going to stop. Especially with our new arrangement.
“It’s going really well,” I say. “Things are busy—they always are—and I have a lot on my plate, but it’s going to pay off. The company is about to go in a whole new direction. Something we haven’t done before. I think the growth potential is limitless.”
“That’s wonderful,” my grandmother cheers. “I just hope you’re taking time for you. And with that said, it’s not too early to start thinking about your birthday.”
“It’s two months away, Gran.”
“Exactly, only two months. And I want to do a big party. You deserve it. And you’d better take some time off and show up. I don’t care about your long hours or big launches or whole new directions.”
“I hear you,” I promise her. “I’ll take time off if I need to.”
“Oh no, the world is ending! The CEO is going to take a weekend off for his own birthday!”
“See, this is why the guys from bingo don’t like you,” I tease her. “This sarcasm. It’s off-putting.”
“Oh, that’s enough out of you,” my grandmother says. “Go on. Get out of here and take a shower. I bet it smells like a foot locker in there.”
“Good night, Gran.”
“Bye, Declan.”
I end the call and sag a little before whirling around and punching the bag hanging in the corner as hard as I can. I’m not wearing gloves—I hadn’t planned on boxing tonight—and the impact splits a knuckle.
But the pain centers my focus. My father. What in the fuck does he think he’s doing, reaching out to my grandmother like that? After everything he did to her daughter—to my mother? That old man has another think coming if he thinks that —
I punch the bag again. And again.
