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“But you guys are adults now.”
I give her a rueful smile. “He made up his mind about me a long time ago.”
“And you don’t care about changing it?”
“What’s the point?” I shrug. “I’d be wasting my time and energy.”
A line forms between her brows. “Why did he make up his mind? What happened?”
“I was a teenage boy, that’s what. A privileged, rich white male who had just lost his mom and started acting out. With no one supervising me, no rules or restrictions, I did whatever I wanted. And I ended up getting caught at the wrong kind of party.”
I shouldn’t be telling her all this, making myself look bad, but it’s like the words need to come out. “It turned out to be a sting operation for some guy. They arrested everyone and Dad was livid when he found out.”
“Did you call him for bail?”
I grin. “No, I wasn’t that stupid. But he discovered it anyway. Even though I got let out that night and the police never charged me, he still holds it against me.” I’ll always be the troublemaker child in his eyes, no matter that it’s been over a decade since then.
She shakes her head softly. “God, I remember some of the stuff I did with my friends as a teen, half of which I’m sure my parents never found out about, but even if they did, they wouldn’t hold it against me now.”
“And what’d you do? Cow tipping?”
“No.” She tries to hide a smile. “We weren’t quite that rural. Mostly just going places we shouldn’t have been. Or sneaking drinks in a friend’s basement.”
“Everyone does that. But I started doing other stuff after that, trying to get his attention. I didn’t realize I was making things worse for myself. By the time I was old enough to understand that, he’d washed his hands of me.”
I pick at a piece of lint on my pants. “Everything’s well and good in the public eye, but he doesn’t miss a chance to tell me in private what he really thinks.”
Her hand creeps over the seat, squeezing mine quickly in reassurance. There’s nothing sensual about it, but it still warms me through all the same.
“It’s funny,” I chuckle humorlessly. “He chides me for using his money, but he’s always made it clear to me and my brothers that appearances are everything. Dress sharp, go to exclusive places, create the impression of wealth we feed to the media. But all that takes money. He’d say I’m not living up to the Bishop name if I forgo all that stuff, begrudge me for making a fool of him.”
“You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” she murmurs.
“Exactly. I’m either a freeloader or an embarrassment. I figure I’d rather eat well and look nice than the alternative.”
“Is that why you agreed to marry Serena?”
I glance over at her, unsure how to answer. My reasons for agreeing to this in the first place don’t seem as crucial anymore. “I… wanted to keep the status quo, I guess. I’d lose everything otherwise. My lifestyle, my family-”
“Your family?” She sounds surprised.
“Didn’t I tell you that? He’ll cut me off, not just financially, but disown my brothers too if they help me out. I’m not worried so much about Archer, but I can’t put Connor in that kind of position. He’d want to help me even if I told him not to.”
Her eyes narrow, lips pursing.
“Go on, spit it out,” I encourage her.
“He’s such an asshole!” she exclaims, bringing a grin to my face. “I wanted to say something after that last check-in meeting we had, but Serena was there and I wasn’t sure if she would rat me out.”
“She doesn’t seem to be a fan of him either.”
My phone rings but I ignore it, not wanting to waste any of my time with her. Now that most everything for the wedding is done, the reasons for getting together are fewer and farther between.
“You should get that,” she says after a moment, but by the time I’ve pulled it out of my pocket, I’ve missed the call.
A message chimes just a few seconds later, though. “Shit,” I murmur, looking at it.
“What is it?”