Page 85 of Word to the Wise
My dad’s stare cuts in my direction. “I can see what all the fuss is about. Good work on that, son.”
I’d like to tell him she’s not a prize that I’ve won, but it wouldn’t matter. My father doesn’t see women as partners. They’re tools to be used how he sees fit. My mother fills the role of making him appear to be a strong husband and good father figure, while his employees and mistresses fill his other needs.
“Good to see you, Mason.” He nods.
“Is it? I’m surprised you got that sentence out without bursting into flames.”
“Mason,” Mom scolds, finally stepping forward.
She’s the peacekeeper of the family. Or, at least, she tries to be. There isn’t much that can be done about my father—much less me, now that I’ve stopped caring if I appease him or not.
Mom narrows her gaze, and I’m surprised she has any fight left after what happened to Sienna. If anything was going to break my mother, it would have been that. But I guess she has managed to survive my father all these years. So here she stands.
“Hi, Mom.” I step forward and give her a hug.
It’s not her fault she’s been trained to do my father’s bidding. I never held it against her, even if I never understood it. And even if she is essentially an extension of him, I’ve missed her.
“Hi, honey.” Mom wraps me in her frail arms.
She’s thinner than the last time I saw her, and it doesn’t look like she’s been eating as much as she needs to. It’s something Mom has struggled with for as far back as I can remember. A yo-yo that bounces from painfully thin to average over and over again.
I can feel her spine through the fabric of her dress, and it’s another reason I hate my father. He’s the one who plants these seeds in her head, and he’s letting her waste away.
“Drink?” Dad walks to the in-room bar and starts filling his glass with scotch before I answer.
“We won’t be staying long.”
He nods. “How is the article coming, Reed? Carter told me you’re painting a pretty picture for the Board of Supervisors. There have been some snags—or so I’m told—with the city accepting our proposal.”
“Because you’re shutting down a historic hotel to take over the land.” Reed narrows her gaze at my father, her fire shining through.
“If it was truly historic, they’d have the documentation saying so, preventing us from bidding on the property. That’s not the case, though, is it?” He gleams, taking a sip of his scotch.
“If either of you cared, you wouldn’t demolish it. You’d preserve the original architecture.”
Dad takes another sip of his drink, smiling with amusement as Reed tries to convince him.
“Well, that answers my question.”
“What question?” Reed asks.
“My son convinced you to switch your tune on the article. You’re no longer going to help us.”
“This has nothing to do with me.” I grip Reed’s hand. “Reed is her own person, and she writes what she wants.”
“Not too long ago, she was writing what Carter wanted, so I apologize if I’m confused.”
I try to step forward, but Reed plants her hand on my arm, pausing me in place. She’s my gravity when my father so easily spins the room out of my control.
“This is no longer about Carter.” Reed glares at my dad, and the respect I have for this girl grows tenfold. “This is about the story—the building. I’m writing the article as I see fit.”
She doesn’t back down as she might have a couple of months ago when she was with someone who made her feel like she needed to. Instead, she stands up to one of the most powerful men in this city, and she’s never been more beautiful as she makes no apologies for it.
“My mistake.” My dad grins, clearly not put off by her fire.
Mom’s eyes are wide as she watches the two of them battle it out, only stepping in when a quiet moment settles in the room.
“You brought quite a girl with you, Mason.” Mom’s voice is cheery but forced, and she looks nervous. “Reed, you said her name was.”
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