Page 22 of The Parent Trap
“Honestly, Delia, that’s a very good question. And I’m not entirely certain of the answer. It was Dell’s idea. I do mean that, and not as a cop-out for not answering. I know why Dell sold, and that’s a conversation you’ll have to have with him—I won’t speak for him. Why did I agree? Why did I actually go through with it? I don’t know. It’s complicated, I think. And honestly, I think the longer and more detailed answer to the question you’re really asking, Delia, is personal. For you, and for me. Which means a board meeting probably isn’t the right time or place to have that discussion.”
I’m taken aback by the sincerity in him.
Can he actually be this changed? I don’t trust it. I don’t trusthim.
“Matthais—”
“Please—call me Thai.”
“Fine. Thai, whatever.” I sigh, a long, annoyed, conflicted sound. “I’m not convinced this isn’t another one of your cruel jokes. If it is, it’s the cruelest one yet, Thai. This is my life. My career. I’ve worked every single day since I was a little girl for the right and the privilege to sit in this chair. I’d still give it back if it meant getting Daddy back.” I pin him with the hardest, iciest, most penetrating glare I can summon. Let my full hatred for him seethe out of me. “I willnotlet the likes of you ruin this for me, Thai. I won’t. You spent money on this, and a lot of it. I know how much Dell’s half was worth down to the last penny. Even for you, this is a big gamble. Which for anyone else would mean they’re serious. But I don’t trust you, and I like you even less. But…this is legal, and it’s binding.” I tap the contract. “I’m going to have it examined to see if there’s a way out of it, but I have to assume Quentin did his job as he’s always done it—thoroughly. So you’re here. I hate it more than I can say. But—all I ask is that you behave with something like adult decorum, if not with respect for the fact that we’re running a business. And Thai? Don’t get in my way.”
Matthais…Thai—he doesn’t answer. Just nods. And there’s no humor in his gaze. No mischief. That taunting sneer he had so perfected is nowhere to be seen.
Somehow, the name he’s chosen, Thai…it fits him. Which is every bit as annoying as his overall godlike hotness.
I stand up, collect my things. “Apologies, everyone, but it seems I have to have a conversation with my brother. Carry on without me, and if anything important comes up, you know how to get ahold me.” I glance at Thai. “Except you. Don’t call me. Ever.”
With that, I leave, and head out in search of my brother.
* * *
I findhim at the local airfield, in a private lounge, waiting for a charter to finish being prepared. He’s sipping champagne from the bottle, wearing mirrored aviators. Joggers, slide sandals, plain T-shirt, all white. Jet-black hair swept back. Scrolling on his phone.
He looks up as I enter. He flinches, and then covers it with a swig of champagne. “Dee-Dee. What’s up?”
I yank the bottle away from him and slam it down on a nearby table, so hard it foams up and spills down the side. I curl my fists in his shirt and yank him halfway up out of his chair—I’m a strong girl. “What—the—fuck, Dell? Of all the dirty, filthy, slimy, underhanded bullshit you could possibly pull, you sell out to Matthais fucking Bristow?”
He jerks away, smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. Settles his aviators more firmly on his face. “It was a strategic move, believe it or not.”
“You wouldn’t know a strategic move if your life depended on it.”
He reaches past me and grabs the bottle. Dabs the sides and bottom dry with a handful of cocktail napkins. “Think what you want, sis. I’m not arguing with you.”
“No, you’re running away.”
“Sure am.”
“Coward.”
He shoves the sunglasses up into his hair. His eyes are…angry. Conflicted. Hurt. But mostly angry. “You know what, Delia? Fuck you. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t, where you’re concerned. Let’s say I’d gone along with Dad’s bullshit little ploy—stuck around, played at businessman with you and Boyd and the others. If I had tried, you’d have bitten my head off at every turn. Given me the worst jobs. Ignored me. Shit all over me, no matter what I did. Just like always. Nothing I did would have been acceptable, or good enough. Never has been. Never will be.” He stabs a finger at me, poking my chest just below my throat. “I stopped fucking around with you years ago, and so did Thai. Yetstill,you shit on me every chance you get. The shit you say to me is fuckingvicious, Delia. Why would I want to stick around for more of your verbal punishment? Huh? Ask yourself that. If I’m doomed to fail, why should I bother even trying? It’s not like you’d let me do anything that matters, not with your preciouscompany. You care more about McKenna Construction than you do me. Or just about anything, for that matter.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he’s not done.
“I know, I know—Thai and I were assholes, back in the day. I get it. I should have stopped him from doing a lot of the shit he pulled on you. I’m sorry, Delia. I really am. But that was years ago.” He shakes his head. “But that’s not really the point, here, though. I sold to him becauseI—don’t—wantthat fucking company. I don’twantto build houses. I don’twantto play good little soldier to your Generalissima bullshit. I don’t want to slave away in the marketing department. I don’t want to do any of it. I don’t know what Idowant, but it’s not that. And this isn’t laziness. I don’t care if you agree or believe me or not—I’m doing this because I refuse to be railroaded into a career I don’t want.” He goes quiet, voice so soft I have to strain to hear him. “I have a lot of regrets in my life, Dee. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I let—let Dad down.” He tugs his glasses back down onto his face, but not before I see the gleam of tears in his eyes; he clears his throat, lets out a gruff sigh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I just…I could never measure up. Not to you. Not to Dad’s expectations of me. And certainly not to the way Dad looked atyou, approved ofyou. So why try? That was always my…my thing. Why bother? It won’t make a difference. Well…I’m going to do something thatwillmake a difference. I don’t know what, but I’ll figure it out—my way. You get my share of the inheritance, I’m not fighting that. I’m not asking you for anything…and I never will.” He checks his watch. “My plane is ready—I have to go. And as for Thai? That was my way of…keeping it in the family.”
“Dell—”
“Give him a chance, Dee. He’s…he’s not the person he used to be. If you give him a chance, he just might surprise you.”
“Dell—”
He grabs his Louis Vuitton satchel off the floor, holding the champagne bottle by the neck, and saunters out of the door without a backward glance at me; he pauses before rounding the corner, but still doesn’t look back at me. “Goodbye, Delia. I…” A shake of his head; he almost looks back at me, head twisted so he could maybe see me out of the corner of his eye—instead, he sighs. “Goodbye.”
He’s gone. I’m still standing in that lounge, stunned, when I hear jet engines spool up, and then roar and vanish as he takes off.
Between Thai appearing out of nowhere, owning half my company, and now this from Dell, my world just got turned upside down.
Problem is, it was already upside down from Daddy dying.