CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I’m standing in the doorway, barefaced, when Riley says, “Come in.”
“Riley,” Mason says.
“Come in, Brandon,” she repeats.
I enter the lavish house. With something like amusement, I realize that I’ve been building these kitchens for years. Half of the Life of Riley homes in Cherry Hill have this innovative open floor plan, and I just assumed it had been born on the job — surely by some clever architect, seeing as Mason isn’t good at design. But then something hits me, and I realize what’s off here. The kitchen must have been the creation of Mason’s late wife, Crystal. There are little Easter eggs like that rumored to be sewn throughout the company’s homes, but this is the first I’ve seen with my own eyes.
I look at Riley. She’s keeping her distance, her eyes flicking between me and her father. I get the feeling I’ve interrupted something. The air is thick with things unsaid, and I’m obviously not the only one here Mason’s upset with.
“So you’re just going to leave,” Mason says. “Leave us high and dry.”
“If you’ll read that,” I say, pointing to my written notice still in his hand, “you’ll see that I’m giving the company all the time it needs to replace me. I’ll train whomever you need. But I honestly think I’m covered most of the way already. If you’d promoted me, who would have moved into project leader? Shaun?”
“Probably,” Mason says.
“I’ll tell him all he needs to know. I’ll hand over my contacts. Whatever you need.”
Mason looks like he wants to protest, but there’s no way he can. I didn’t set out to give Mason a gotcha or flip him the bird on the way out, but it’s a nice side effect. Turns out, there are two ways to win a confrontation. The first is to dominate the discussion and get everything you want. The other is to give everything away before you’re asked.
I step closer to Riley. This is a bit of a gambit, but luckily I’m good at poker. I know how to call a bluff, and know bullshit when I see it.
“Why are you doing this?” Riley almost whispers, as if she thinks her father won’t hear us.
“Because it hurts.”
She looks at me funny. I decide I can explain later, depending on how this all turns out. But Bridget would be proud. I can’t have put myself more on display than I am now. If the way out is the most painful path, then I’m in excellent shape.
I’ve been with Life of Riley for years. It’s a great company, with an owner I respect. I’ve learned a lot about Mason James, and even though there are people who say he’s greedy, I don’t agree. He’s smart and ambitious. So smart, in fact, that he has a history of making decisions that everyone thinks are stupid until they’re not. And he’s smart enough to always choose what’s objectively best, even if he doesn’t like it at all. And when it turns out that Mason is wrong, he always admits it.
I reach out and take Riley by the hand.
“You told me, that day at the office, that the mark of a good second man is the ability to make hard decisions.”
A glance goes between Riley and her father. I wonder if I’ve missed something, if they’ve already had this discussion.
“I’m making one now. It’s the hardest decision I’ve ever faced, I think.” I look at Riley and let those latent emotions come swelling to the surface. All the time I’ve spent thinking of her. All the thoughts I’ve denied. All the things I’ve meant to say but held back because it wasn’t proper or I couldn’t face what they’d mean. All the doubt. All the uncertainty. But if I don’t leap, I’ll never know.
“I’ll have to be good if I stay. I’ll need to show up for work every day on time. I’ll need to attend all of the meetings you book. I’ll need to leap when you say. And maybe, in time, you’ll think I’m ready for the big chair again.”
Mason looks a little confused. But with her hand in mine, Riley seems almost content.
“But if, instead, I keep holding Riley’s hand and see if she’ll take my other one, I think I can convince you I’m the right man for another job.”
Riley takes my other hand, and we stand there with our arms sagging between us, quiet. Mason is watching, something warring in his features.
“Either way, if she’ll have me, I think I might want to be with your daughter. With or without a life at your company. But I think you believe in me. And I think you believe in Riley. Because you raised her. You know she’s not a fool.” I rub my thumb across the back of Riley’s hand, wanting to cup her face, run my hands through her hair. “You know that I’m not a fool, either.”
Riley looks up at me — those big blue eyes, her wide smile hidden. If anything, she looks dire. I can read her face, though, and it’s as if she’s whispering in my ear: You could have kept your job. Now you have nothing. And believe me, the same thought has occurred to me, too. I’m in uncharted waters. But I think I know where islands might be found.
“I’m going to be with her either way,” I say, looking down to Riley for confirmation. “We don’t have an elegant beginning to our story right now, as long as it remains a random encounter on one random night. But this?” I shrug, indicating the kitchen, the situation, the whole of this little display. “This is a damn fine beginning, I think.”
Mason is looking at me. His face is serious, assessing. There’s nothing he can do. I’ve quit. He’s not going to hit me. If he’d get out of his own way, maybe he’ll see what I already have. The best solutions to any problem are the creative ones. Those outside the box. The solutions that don’t follow the playbook but instead make their own music.
He could kick me out. He looks like he might. But if he does, Riley will follow. Either way, his daughter will be with me — and if he can see past his initial anger, maybe he’ll see that I’m not all that bad. I served his company faithfully, loyally, for years. I have ambition I know he respects. Though our encounters were few and far between until recently, he’s always treated me like a father when I’ve seen him, and in the past weeks I think he’s seen me like a son. He didn’t just want to promote me. He wanted to groom me. To give me more and more responsibility until I had almost all of it. Not because I deserved it, but because I’m his very best. Because Life of Riley deserves me.
I turn to Riley. I don’t exactly whisper, but my voice is quiet.
“Tell me you’re into me,” I say. “Because if this is a ‘Thanks but no thanks’ situation, my whole plan falls apart, here.”
She smiles. That big, white, beautiful, open smile. “I am,” she whispers back.
That little whisper is all it takes. My heart seems to blossom. My hands tingle under her touch. I want to hold her to me, but there’s still the matter of her father. He’s everything to Riley, the way Bridget is everything to me.
We don’t need his approval, but I want it. I want him to stop being so stubborn. To stop being Mason Fucking James long enough be a human. To step outside his anger and see this situation for what it is: a man coming to his daughter with nothing to hide and loyalty etched onto his cheek. A man who would be perfect for his little girl … if he can step outside his programming and knee-jerk reactions and his anger at the impulsive way we began.
“Daddy?” Riley says. “What are you thinking?”
Mason looks at me then at Riley. Then at me. Riley.
“Daddy?”
Mason’s face seems to break, and I sense him giving in. Letting things be. Accepting the unconventional, because what’s best doesn’t always seem right from the start.
“Everyone makes mistakes, Princess,” he says.