BYRON SOUGHT OUT his dad the next morning. He found Grant in the kitchen, laughing and teasing the family’s chef, Jules.
“Okay, now, you promised me bacon on Friday,” Grant was saying with a grin.
Jules rolled her eyes then pointed a finger at Grant. “You know good and well I said if you ate all the meals I prepared this week you’d get bacon. How are you planning to stay healthy if you don’t eat properly?”
Grant pounded his chest. “My heart is as strong as it was twenty years ago.”
“Mmm hmm, I bet.” Jules put several slices of bacon on the plate Grant held out.
Byron cleared his throat to get their attention. “Dad, can I talk to you for a few minutes?”
Grant turned away from Jules and eyed Byron with cool detachment. A look he’d seen Grant give to Elaina hundreds of times, even India on a few occasions, but rarely had he gotten the look. He’d never crossed his dad. This was the first time Byron could remember ever being on the outs with him.
“So you did stay the night,” Grant said.
“I was tired, and it was a long day,” Byron replied. He walked over to the counter with the coffeemaker. “Good morning, Jules.”
“Good morning, Mr. Byron,” she said. The teasing tone she’d had with his dad was replaced with the professional voice she used for the rest of the family.
“Regardless of the reason, I’m glad you stayed.”
Byron poured himself a cup of coffee. When he faced his dad again Grant watched him as if he was unsure of what to expect. His face may be indifferent, but Byron heard the concern in his dad’s voice. He’d been worried about him.
“Upstairs or down?” Byron asked.
“Let’s go in the dining room,” Grant said. He opened the pastry dish and pulled out a doughnut.
Jules tisked and shook her head. “I’m making you an egg white omelet.”
“Give that tasteless mess to Patricia when she comes down. I’m eating this doughnut and I don’t want to hear a word about it.”
Unfazed, Jules picked and apple from the fruit bowl and placed it next to the doughnut and bacon. “Eat it.”
Grant grinned and winked before going into the dining room. Byron followed. He glanced over his shoulder at Jules, who smiled as she made the omelet. Byron shook his head.
“Isn’t that what got you in trouble one time?” Byron said as he and Grant settled at one end of the dining room table.
“What?” Grant picked up a slice of bacon and bit it in half.
“Flirting with the family chef. You keep it up and Patricia will wonder if she might lose you the same way Mom did.”
Grant froze, his eyes narrowed and his chest puffed out. Byron only slightly regretted the words. Years of not pushing back against his father fought with the words he’d held inside himself for over a decade. He considered apologizing, then remembered Grant ordered Roy around without a consideration to Byron’s wishes.
“Patricia has nothing to worry about,” Grant said confidently.
“Did you say the same thing about Mom?” Byron countered.
Grant dropped the bacon and pointed at Byron. “Now, you listen here—”
“No, Dad, you listen. I’m not saying this to be disrespectful or out of spite. I’m saying it because I’m being honest. Patricia claimed she was Mom’s friend. If she was and you slept with her then how am I supposed to know you won’t sleep with Jules?”
Grant threw up a hand. “What the hell brought this on? This doesn’t really have anything to do with me and Patricia.”
“What, you’re having a hard time believing I’d question you after I’ve gone along with everything you expect of me? You wanted me to go to the University of North Carolina, I did. You wanted me to become a lawyer and work for the company. I did. When you said I could do more if I got into national politics, I jumped into one of the biggest races I could. I’ve accepted so much of what you say and expect of me that even my own campaign manager thinks it’s okay to take orders from you instead of me.”
Understanding flashed in his father’s eyes. He relaxed and resumed eating bacon. “Is this about the pictures?”
The way Grant sounded unfazed made Byron want to snatch the bacon out of his hand and toss it across the room. His dad really didn’t care if Byron was upset, because Byron had never fought back on anything. He was tired of just going along with what his dad thought and believed. Holding back for years was the reason Grant believed he could go to Roy and override Byron’s orders.
Byron pressed a finger on the table. “It’s about more than the pictures. It’s about how you really do think we’re supposed to be okay with everything you say and do for us. No pushback. No questions. When I have to threaten to fire my employee because he listened to you instead of me, and when I see you flirting with our new chef right after you told us to accept your proposal to our previous cook, I think I have a right to ask some damn questions.”
By the time he was finished his breathing was fast. His heart pumped wildly. His voice hadn’t risen, but years of frustration and untapped anger clipped the edges of his words.
Grant meticulously dusted his hands off by wiping them together. Once done with that, he took a long breath and leaned back in his chair. “You don’t have to worry about Jules being an upgrade, because I happen to love Patricia.”
“Does that mean you didn’t love Mom?” Piercing pain punctured Byron’s chest. He scanned his memories of his parents together and couldn’t come up with anything to suggest they weren’t happy. They’d been loving, affectionate and damn formidable when it came to the Robidoux legacy.
“I did love her,” Grant said, sounding sad. “But...”
“But what? When she got sick you couldn’t deal?”
Grant’s back straightened. “I stayed by her side through the entire ordeal. I made sure she had everything she needed.” Grant said the words as if that absolved him of all wrongdoing.
“What if what she needed was a faithful husband?”
“Well, then she wouldn’t have told me to seek comfort in Patricia’s arms.”
Byron drew in a sharp breath. “That doesn’t make it right.”
“I’m not saying that it does. Right or wrong, that’s how it started. Once it started, well, it kept going. The day of your mom’s funeral I knew she was the only person who would understand my grief.”
Byron shook his head. “No, she wasn’t. You lost a wife, but we lost a mother. We needed you here.”
Grant’s face tightened. “I gave you kids everything I could. I’m not good at the nurturing and the emotional stuff. That’s what your mom was for. I’m here to make sure you reach your potential. To give you everything you need to have more than me. You want to get mad about Patricia now, or say I pushed you to do things you didn’t want to do, fine. But look where my pushing got you. You’re this close to winning this election.” He held his thumb and forefinger a few centimeters apart. “This damn close. You know why? Because I released those pictures of you and Zoe. You’re a fool in love with that woman and the public needed to see it. You went up in the polls. After word gets out about you pulling your kid and driver from the wreckage, you’ll get another jump.”
Byron hit the table with the side of his fist. “That’s not how I want to win.”
“How you win doesn’t matter as long as you get what you want,” Grant said easily.
“I don’t know if I want this.” The words burst out of Byron. A truth that shook him like an unexpected hit to the solar plexus. He wasn’t sure if he wanted this life. The constant scrutiny. The questioning of his lifestyle and that of his family. The expectation to be a perfect role model, citizen and man.
“If you don’t want this, quit.”
Byron’s head jerked back. “What?”
“You think I’m pushing you to run for Senate and you don’t want to. Fine. Quit,” Grant said with a wave of his hand. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “But ask yourself if you’re giving it up because you’re really tired of me pushing you to be great, or if you’re doing it because you think it’ll make being with Zoe easier.”
“She’s got nothing to do with this.”
Grant scoffed. “Son, if you really believe that then you don’t deserve to win.” Grant stood, grabbed the pieces of bacon off his plate and shook his head. “I’m going upstairs to my fiancée. You stay down here in your feelings and figure out what’s really going on in your fool head.”
Byron didn’t look at Grant as he left. What had he wanted to get out of this conversation? Had he thought he’d get an apology from his dad for going behind his back and a promise to never butt into his life again? Now all he had was a stomach full of frustration, and no push in the right direction.
If he quit, what would he do? Be with Zoe and live happily ever after? He’d seen the panic in her face when he’d said he loved her. She hadn’t said it back. He’d let down the people who’d supported him and worked for him on the hopes of Zoe loving him.
Byron clenched his hand around the coffee mug and took a long sip of the liquid. The heat of the coffee burned away any remaining softness. His dad was a cynical man but look where not being ruled by emotions had gotten him. Byron had been too accommodating, too eager to please, and look what he’d gotten? If he was going to win, now was the time to ignore his heart and make logical, not emotional, decisions.