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“You can come along too, little bro,” Dex says in a Papa Bear voice, putting his large arm around Zach’s shoulder.
“You didn’t ask me, now you’re just inviting me out of pity,” Zach retorts, gruffly. Typical of Zach to feel left out. We all look at the floor because no one asks our father. I loosen my tie, feeling claustrophobic in the awkwardness.
“I only came back to pick up some paperwork.” I make a move to go through the revolving doors.
“Come for dinner,” Dex suggests. I school my face so that I don't look completely shocked out of my skin. They're having dinner with our father? On what isnota mandated family dinner night? Why the fuck would they put themselves through such torture? I’d rather have my toenails ripped out.
“I'm? paying,” our father says. “Roberto Vasquez is at The Resort this week.”
“I don't have a fucking clue who he is,” I mutter. But I have a feeling he's some famous chef my father adores, and The Resort is one of Manhattan's top restaurants.
“Wagyu beef.” Zach licks his lips, trying to tempt me. He looks as happy as a puppy whose been handed a bone. Like this is a normal dinner with a normal family, and a normal father is going to treat them.
“I had dinner with Alicia.” I smile and tilt my chin, locking eyes with my father.
“Don't forget what we talked about.” Paul Knight eyes me and I feel my brothers’ stares.
“We'll have a beer when you get back,” Dex says, obviously knowing what it’s about.
“I'll call you.” Because I want to know what’s so important that he’s voluntarily having dinner with my father.
Back in my office, I rip off my tie and open the top button of my shirt. Sliding off my blazer, I head towards my wet bar and pour myself a glass of whiskey.
What a fucking day.
Sinking into my executive chair, I let out an exhale before taking a big sip of the amber-colored nectar. I close my eyes and let it go down, warming my insides, providing the comfort I so badly need.
It's too much. Alicia. My father. The marriage plan. Going to Sacramento. I should go home to Brooke. I should get the hell out of here. Taking another sip, I decide to quickly gather the paperwork I need, but my gaze falls on the pile of letters Cari left behind earlier.
I move it closer to me, see the letter at the top, and quickly rummage through the rest. They're just letters I need to sign. But this ... the white envelope, is different. I pick it up.
Jett Knight
is written on the cover in Cari's neat writing.
My heart trips a little. This feels personal. Intrigued, I rip it open in a rush to read what she says.
Dear Mr. Knight,
Please accept this letter as official notice of my resignation.
I will work my one-month notice period at the end of which I leave. In effect this makes my departure date to be August 17th.
Sincerely,
Cari Summers
She's leaving me?
I spring out of my chair. What. The. Fuck?
I slap my hand to my forehead, the letter still in my hand as I pace around the room in shock. My stomach hollows out as I read it a second and third time.
Cari resigned?
I think back to our earlier interaction when she handed it to me. I was still worked up from the meeting with my father but she was perfectly fine.
How is that possible?