Page 73 of House of Scarlett
“Absolutely. Although it’s easier to do with some parents than with others.”
I nod slowly. “It would’ve been a hell of a lot harder if it were my father,” I murmur. “Not that anyone ever accused him of being a saint.”
“Trust me, I understand that well,” she says with empathy underscoring her words. “My father was no sterling example of a parent.”
Slowly, I lower myself back into the chair, my hands gripping the arms. “Really?”
Her chin dips. “He left when I was six, twelve,andseventeen. I saw him for the last time when I was twenty-four. He vomited on a table during my wedding reception. It was humiliating, and I never forgave him. He’s been gone for many years, and I wish with all my heart that it could’ve been different. Now I have to live with the knowledge that I’ll never have a chance to have any kind of relationship with him.”
In that moment, we’re not Scarlett Priest and Meryl Fosse, two women who have it all. Instead, we’re two little girls who only ever wanted fathers who gave a damn, and it breaks my heart.
“My father has never cared that he had a daughter. I know there’s no ranking for suffering, but I can relate. I wish you hadn’t had to live through that, Meryl. I wish ...” I trail off because I don’t know what else to say. Then something occurs to me. “This is why your charity is so important, isn’t it? Because you’re giving kids a place to go and people who care about them, no matter what’s happening at home.”
A radiant smile beams from her face. “Exactly.”
“I would really be honored if you’d let me attend. And if you would prefer that I don’t, I will understand completely, and I’ll still be donating. I really mean that. I’m not just saying it to get an invitation.”
“I know you’re not,” Meryl says as a dimple appears in one of her cheeks. “I have an excellent bullshit detector. Daughter of an alcoholic, so I come by it naturally. But I’d love for you to attend, Scarlett. That is ... if you’ll donate something to the silent auction to help us raise money on top of the ticket prices.”
A smile ghosts over my lips because I respect the hell out of her negotiating ability. “I would love to. Thank you so much.”
“It’ll be my pleasure. Have the auction item sent over by Thursday. I’ll see you Saturday night.”
I freeze at her words. I thought the event wasnext week, but I keep my smile intact.
Well, we’ll just have to make it work.
I’ll go to the club Friday and then after the charity event Saturday, and Gabriel’s investors will see that everything’s moving in the right direction and there’s no need for alarm.It’ll all be fine.
Still, a feeling of disquiet follows me out of the charity offices and chases me all the way home.
Forty-Three
Legend
“That isn’ta sight I see regularly anymore,” Q says as he steps into my office at the club. The attitude I’m feeling rolling off my best friend isn’t my imagination. He’s fucking pissed.
“You got something to say to me? Then say it,” I tell him, rising from where I was sitting behind my desk.
Q struts inside and shuts the door. “Investor meeting is Thursday at two. You think you can tear yourself away from Scarlett Priest to make it? Or is that meeting not important to you either?”
I prowl around my desk and meet him in the middle of the room, standing on the rug that started it all. “You questioning my commitment? Now? After everything I’ve fucking done?”
“You’ve been MIA damn near all fucking week while the rest of us held down the fort, so you could go play prince running to the rescue like you belong in the castle with the princess.”
“She needed me.”
Q lunges forward. “We need you. We need your head in the fucking game or this is all over. They could pull the plug on us Thursday. You know that, right, Gabe? We’re in breach of contract. They could call in the loans. And then what are you going to do? Go back to fighting at the docks and open another illegal club? Because I don’t think your new girl is the type to walk through those doors.”
Anger rises in my chest like the blush that sometimes stains Scarlett’s cheeks. “You, of all people, know how fucking committed I am to this. I’m the one who has sacrificed everything and put every penny on the line. You think that’s changed?”
“Fuck yes.” Q’s gaze sharpens on me. “You’re rarely here. We’re scraping by, barely making it into the black every night, and you’renot here.”
“Is that your problem, Q, or are you just pissed that I finally took your advice and am moving forward with my life?”
Q recoils like I slapped him. “This is you moving forward? Really?”
“Yeah, I fucking am. I’m sorry you don’t like how I’m doing it, but I don’t remember there being a requirement that I could only move forward using Marcus Quinterro-approved steps.”
