Rex
I made a last-minute request to the service. I was in the car fifteen minutes later and on the way. The trip didn’t take long. The two story Mediterranean style house was partially hidden by palm trees. Laura’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but she did mention stopping by her place.
I tipped the driver and went up the stone path. Mr. Reynolds was standing at the door. “I’m glad you made it on short notice. I’m finishing dinner.”
Laura was supposed to be having dinner with him. I didn’t speak on it. I followed Mr. Reynolds to the study.
“Please have a seat,” he motioned to a leather chair.
“I’ll stand if it’s all the same to you.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he picked up a decanter. “What’s your poison?”
“My preferred brand of scotch whiskey.”
Mr. Reynolds glanced at me. “Maybe I have it.” I told him the brand. He looked shocked, “Were you gifted a bottle?”
My jaw tightened. He was implying I couldn’t afford the luxury brand. I didn’t let my reaction show more than it already was. “I see you don’t have it. I’ll skip the drink.” Mr. Reynolds looked slightly embarrassed.
“Laura was looking forward to lunch with us,” I said, giving him space to say whatever he needed.
Mr. Reynolds sighed, “My daughter always does things a certain way. So, you can understand my concern about her leaving family, friends, and a fantastic career to go on this excursion on the East Coast.”
“It’s an extended vacation for her.”
“It’s three months,” he countered and sipped his drink. “My daughter isn’t as worldly as you. She didn’t consider changing her life around until now.”
I maintained eye contact with him. “Laura is capable of making her own decisions. You’re underestimating her.”
“I’m not,” he replied. “She’s determined to fall in love.”
“You don’t know your daughter at all.”
Mr. Reynolds sipped his drink while sizing me up. Maybe he was deciding how far to go. “Rex, how much do you care about Laura?”
“Enough to be standing in your study,” I replied.
“It’s a fair answer under the circumstances,” he went into a drawer and pulled out a large manila envelope.
“I’m holding the solution. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This kind of money is life changing.”
“Don’t insult me,” I warned him.
“I’m making you an offer. You can have the money. Go back East or start over wherever you like. Laura won’t be joining you.”
“It’s not up to you,” I reminded him. “Keep your money.”
There was noise in the hall. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he tossed the envelope on his desk. “There’s a significant amount in there. Think about it.”
It was time to cut this short. I called Laura. She didn’t pick up. I paced back and forth while texting and sent a request to my driver. Laura wasn’t answering her phone. I texted her again.
Mr. Reynolds walked back in. “Have we reached an agreement?”
“It’s a waste of time,” I replied but didn’t look up from my phone.
“I hope you’re not texting Laura. She stopped by. See for yourself,” he motioned to the window.
I looked out there. Laura’s formal evening gown accented her curves. Her shoulders were bare and her long hair was styled up. I felt possessive when the guy took her hand.
“You’re surprised. Didn’t Laura mention Cameron?” Mr. Reynolds was amused. “He and Laura have been dating since last year. She was excited about tonight.”
I ignored him. Laura held my attention. She turned to get in the luxury sedan, but Cameron steered her close. He rested his forehead on hers. She touched his wrist like she needed to feel anchored. The position was too damn intimate. Cameron lowered his head for a kiss. My heart was weak from it. I turned to leave the study.
Mr. Reynolds stepped in my way again. “I invited you to my home. I can’t have you causing a scene out there.”
“You’re twice my age. I don’t want to hurt you. Come on with this,” I went around him and rushed outside.
The car was heading down the street. I called Laura over and over. Where the hell was my damn driver?
“You’re wasting your time,” Mr. Reynolds called out.
I went back to the house. “Where are they going?”
“I’m not telling you,” he sipped his drink. “I see you care about my daughter, but you’ll recover from this.”
Mr. Reynolds kept saying smart shit here and there. I sent Laura text after text. I wanted her to pick up the damn phone. The car pulled up to the curb. Mr. Reynolds held out the envelope. “Take this and never contact Laura again.”
I took it but wasn’t worried about the cash. My eyes locked on his, “Your decisions about your daughter’s life are similar to your taste in liquor.”
“And what would that be?”
“Piss poor.”
He didn’t have anything to say. I hopped into the car and waited for Laura’s call. Twenty minutes went by before her first text. Sorry. I can’t answer the phone.
I was in a terrible mood but replied without letting my anger come across. Where are you?
Laura replied. Having dinner with my Dad.
I stared at the message, disappointed but curious as to how far she’d go with it. I texted back. We need to talk.
Her next text came through.
I won’t make it back in time. Sorry. Hope you have a safe trip. I have a headache and will probably go to bed early. We’ll talk in the morning. Goodnight.
I called and her voicemail came on. Laura turned off her phone. The hours went by in a blur of rage and confusion, but I was at the airfield on time. The flight to Miami didn’t help. The jet arrived on time. I was frustrated on the drive to the house and wanted Laura to call. She needed to explain and say I had the situation wrong.
I showered and threw on clothes, but still felt like shit. My mind was racing. I sipped whiskey and watched the sun rise. It was early in San Diego. I called anyway.
“Hello,” the guy’s voice was laced with sleep.
She spent the night at his house. The scenarios played out in my mind, but my problem wasn’t with him.
“I need to speak to Laura.”
“It’s early in the morning. She’s in bed.”
“Put her on the phone.”
“Look, she wasn’t feeling well after our night out. I’m not waking her up because you asked. I figured this thing with you would run its course. I doubt she’ll make the trip you two were planning.”
“Cameron, why are you talking? It’s too early,” Laura’s voice was in the background. “What’s going on?”
“Give the phone to her,” I told him.
He ignored it. “Everything’s okay, please rest.” Cameron lowered his voice. “You need to back off.”
My temper surfaced. “I don’t give a fuck about you. I’ll fly back to San Diego and you don’t want that.”
He ended the call. I was in a bad space and damn near threw my phone. I knocked back the whiskey and threw the crystal glass. It shattered against the wall, but that didn’t help. My heart was damn breaking, but I was expected at lunch in a few hours. We were meeting with investors for a new project our company was handling.
Mom had her share of useless drama with my old man. He loved his freedom. Money was a close second. Women came in a strong third. He didn’t mix business with pleasure but found trouble in all the wrong places. Mom couldn’t live with him but was heartbroken without him. I didn’t understand how deep it was until now. Laura didn’t know how much I loved her. We didn’t talk about it. Maybe that was a good thing because our paths would cross again.
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