Page 77 of Down Shift (Driven 8)
ander, feeling like he’s made his point, turns back to the waiter. “Thank you. We’ll take the salads, but you can cancel the main courses. We’ve had something come up unexpectedly and won’t be staying long enough to eat.”
The waiter nods his head and shuffles away quickly as Zander returns his glare to my father.
“It must be devastating to not know your daughter anymore. But then again, I don’t think you ever took the time to really see her. Rather you used her as a pawn to secure the future of your empire.” My father turns his full attention toward Zander for the first time. The vein in his neck is bulging, his jaw set, and his eyes burn with a vitriol I can’t remember ever seeing before. Zander chuckles long and low. “Oh, yes. I’ve done my research on you, Damon.” He leans across the table and lowers his voice as if he’s telling a secret.
My eyes must be as wide as my father’s in reaction to seeing this new calculating side to Zander, as well as knowing that sometime between now and coming home from zip-lining, he researched my father. “Google’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it? I read all about the multimillion-dollar government contracts you were awarded once you merged with Ethan’s company. You must be one helluva parent to trade your success for your daughter’s happiness.”
“You son of a bitch—”
“I saw the society pages, Damon. The pictures from their perfect, storybook wedding where all the captains of industry attended. How rumors flew that palms were greased and—”
“Young man, you don’t know who you’re messing with.” My father spits out the threat, but Zander stares at him unfazed with a cocky smirk on his lips. My heart pounds and my head is spinning. When did Zander find all of this out and how did I not know about it?
You were controlled, Getty. That’s how. When you live in a bubble, he who controls the amount of glycerin can also constrict the size of the bubble around you and what it contains.
I’m so grateful Zander is here and more than astounded at how hard he’s fighting in a battle that’s not even his to fight. I link my hand with his, fingers intertwining, as he continues.
“I know exactly who I’m dealing with. You think I’m scared? You think this grease monkey is scared of you? Yeah, I noticed you sitting across the street while I worked on the car the other day.”
His words connect the dots for me. Yet I’m too mesmerized watching Zander stand up for me in a way no one has before to react to the revelations. In a way I’ve never seen anyone stand up to my father.
“How’s it feel to have to sit behind the tinted windows of your town car parked on your daughter’s street to find out about her life? But if you ask my opinion, I’m not really sure you care. You’ve washed your hands of her well-being for years, so why change now? Ahhh, but you were controlling her in those years, weren’t you? And now you’re not. So you sat there and took in the weathered house and the blue-collar guy under the hood of a car and made assumptions just so you could pass more judgment on her. You have no clue what she’s been through. But I guess I shouldn’t expect anything less from you, should I? She’s just the collateral damage in your empire, and how dare she fight for herself for once, because she might leave a stain on your pristine reputation.” Silence descends around the table. Tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. Both men are frozen in a silent standoff.
My father breaks it first, striving to get the upper hand in a situation he clearly has no control of. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to your immature and unfounded bullshit any longer.” My father throws his napkin down, the picture of flustered fury. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone ever get to him like Zander has. “Stand up, Gertrude.” He shoves his chair back, where it crashes into the wall behind him as he raises his hand to summon the waiter.
“What?” Reflex has me saying the word. Shock has me rising to my feet without me even realizing I’m following his orders. Rather I’m so stupefied over his audacity that he’d think I’d want to go with him even now.
“It’s time to go pack your things and get you back home where you belong.” He grits the words out, temper so close to snapping all I can do is stare at him wide-eyed.
Then Zander’s laugh rings out in the restaurant. Mocking. Taunting. An audible fuck you. “She’s not going anywhere.” The words are delivered with a measured slowness. His tone ice-cold.
“You. Don’t. Control. Her.” The silverware on the table rattles as my father uses his finger to jab its top with each word he spits out. His shoulders are squared and body stretched to full height as he looks down at Zander, who is casually leaning back in his chair.
Zander flashes a smarmy smirk, but his eyes are dead serious when he stands up, now clearly at a height advantage. He leans forward, voice quiet but powerful. “Neither. Do. You.”
My father glares, jaw ticking, before shifting his gaze back to mine. “You have a soft heart, Gertrude, and in this cruel world, it’s a major weakness. Falling for this man is proof of it. He’ll take advantage of you and you’ll come running home broken, with your tail between your legs. I have no doubt.”
My eyes burn. My heart hurts. My head spins.
“Having a soft heart in this cruel world is brave. Not weak. But you wouldn’t know the first thing about bravery, now, would you?” And without another word, Zander links his hand with mine and we walk out of the restaurant together.
“This isn’t over,” my father calls after us.
But all I can think is that it was over a long time ago.
Chapter 22
GETTY
The hammering begins before I take my makeup off. Loud, forceful blows echo through the house and feel resoundingly similar to the way my father’s words felt when he spoke them. Impactful. Relentless. Damaging.
And as much as I want to go and ask Zander why, right now of all times, he’s working on the deck, I don’t. I need a moment to myself. Time to decompress.
Sitting in front of my vanity, I stare in the mirror and go over the events of the day. Waking sated and feeling incredible. The morning of discord. Zander’s confessions at the Treehouse. The zip-lining. Just jump. His voice fills my memory and a trace of a smile turns up my lips. The dinner with my father. Zander’s surprise offensive on my behalf. The absolute silence on the drive home, both of us lost in our thoughts.
I close my eyes momentarily and allow my composure to crack. Weeping for the loss of a father who was never really a father—but I’d always held out hope he would see his wrongs and right them some day. A little girl always wants her daddy to love her. Tonight proved to me that will never happen and that not everyone sees love the same.
But then again, I should have known that already, since Ethan once professed his love for me and look how that turned out.
