Page 42 of Only the Wicked

“He’s still an asshole.”

I laugh and he sort of grins.

“He can’t still be upset? How many years ago was that?”

“Is that an age jab?”

He gestures for us to continue on our hike, and I step forward, leaving the open area and leading us onto the narrow path.

I’m not supposed to know that he’s hailed as a wunderkind, or that he went to Harvard straight out of undergrad. But I do know all of that and it’s impossible to conceive a parent taking issue with his choices.

“You’re taking a long time to respond. Are you mocking my age?”

He pinches my ass, and I squeal, swiping his hand away. “No, it’s just, college feels like a long time ago.”

“Well, almost ten years for you. A decade is a long time ago.”

Wait, did I tell him my age? Yes, I did. At dinner, we shared ages.

“It was a long time ago for me too,” Rhodes concedes. “For any other father, the disagreement would be settled history. But my actions injured Dad’s pride.” I sense there’s more to be said, but he’s swallowing it down. “But yeah, those were some tough years. Lots of self-doubt. And I leaned on connections. Not for a handout, but for investments. I mean, truthfully, the connections helped. But…I didn’t need the diploma.”

“So, what do you do now?”

“I own a company.”

That’s an understatement. “And how’s it doing?”

“Let’s just say I’ll never be homeless and Dad will never get the great pleasure of denying me a place to stay and sending me to the streets.”

“I’d think saying he’s proud would be a bigger pleasure.”

“You’d think that.” He clears his throat but maintains his pace. “Anyway, I don’t normally share any of that. But the point I was trying to make is that I understand what it’s like to be uncertain about the future. And I also understand the value of connections. If I can help, let me know.”

“You never said what your company is, what it does.”

“It’s a software company that deploys data integration and analysis platforms. In a nutshell, it processes information into useful formats.”

That’s a highly simplified take on ARGUS.

“You started that company straight out of Harvard?”

“No. I started a boring backend systems company. Sold it. Took that money, started another one.”

“Must be nice to start a company without any financial pressures. I mean, I’m assuming you did well when you sold your first company.”

“We did well. But there are always financial pressures.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Just ask my CFO. And, by the way, I’m not saying that you’d be a fit for my company, but I am connected. If you have a target list, I might know someone.”

“Six degrees and all that?”

“Exactly.”

We reach a steep incline, one that will require me to haul myself up a boulder or take a longer loop around the protrusion. When I stop, taking in the options, he’s right there, and we’re inches apart. He looks down at me, and there’s that pull, drawing me in.

“You know, for what it’s worth, your father was wrong. He should’ve supported you. Believed in you.”