The By Request Collection. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.
grateful, and painfully disappointed for some silly and irrational reason, Gracie collapsed into a leather chair and exhaled deeply, waiting for the flood, giving herself permission to cry. To sob her heart out if that was what she needed. But the damned tears wouldn’t come.
What the heck was wrong with her?
She didn’t feel sad, or hurt, or even angry with him. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling right now, other than confused.
She had anticipated this day for seven years, and it had gone absolutely nothing like she’d imagined. She’d always envisioned him being cocky and unapologetic. Someone she would love to hate, and keep on hating. But this?
This was way worse than the anger. Or the nerves.
She thought about what Roman had said, about her father disrespecting her. And she hated how right he was. And hated herself even more for letting Sutton do it to her. For turning a blind eye for so long. She deserved his respect. She had earned it. But maybe he didn’t even realize the way the things he did affected her. And instead of walking around with a big chip on her shoulder, she could just tell Sutton how she felt. Maybe he would apologize and promise not to do it again. It would be an amazing gift, because the great Sutton Winchester did not apologize for anything. Ever. But in his fragile condition did she want to risk upsetting him, or possibly putting a wedge in their relationship? He had so little time left.
No, she had to say something. If he passed away tomorrow she would spend the rest of her life feeling this unresolved resentment. That wasn’t what she wanted.
Rising from the chair, she smoothed the front of her skirt, took a deep breath and walked back to her father’s office. She rapped on the partially open door and peeked inside. Sutton was still sitting at his desk. He looked pale and exhausted. He should be in bed resting, but it was just like him to push himself to the limits and tire himself out.
She rapped softly on the door again. “Daddy, can I have a word with you?”
“What is it?” he snapped, not even looking at her.
She winced a little. That wasn’t a good sign. He’d been going through some severe mood swings lately. Most likely a result of the cancer now growing in his brain. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Roman.”
His eyes never left the screen, as if she wasn’t even worth his time, and it hurt. A lot.
“What about it?” he said.
As her hands began to tremble, she realized that this was going to be harder than she’d anticipated. But she pulled herself up by her bootstraps, raised her chin and said in a semistrong yet slightly shaky voice, “It was wrong what you did.”
In her life she couldn’t recall ever telling him he was wrong about anything, and he clearly didn’t like it.
The savvy and ruthless businessman looked up at her with eyes as cold as icicles. “And what did I do?”
The question was, what had she just done? He was obviously not feeling well. He looked so pale. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut.
Her voice trembling a little, she said, “I didn’t want to talk to Roman and you shouldn’t have forced me.”
“We all make sacrifices, Princess.”
Sacrifices? Shouldn’t that have been her choice? “You didn’t even ask me if it was okay. It was disrespectful and cruel.”
He muttered a curse under his breath. He was mad at her, and she felt herself backing down again the way she always did. “I’ve had a long day and I’m tired.” He sighed. “I don’t have time for this nonsense.”
He thought her feelings were nonsense? Was that seriously how he felt about her?
He’s not well, she reminded herself, holding her tongue. He was dying. Wasting away. For a man like Sutton, to lose his faculties had to be the highest form of humiliation.
So what was his excuse for the other twenty-six years before his diagnosis? that annoying little voice asked. But after what she had been through with Roman today, she didn’t have the energy or the will to make it an issue. If it weren’t for the pile of designs on her drawing table at the office, she would go home, crawl into bed, hide under the covers and stay there until her dignity returned. But that just wasn’t her. She was a fighter.
“I’ll leave you alone,” she said, backing away from his desk.
“I’m not through with you yet,” he said testily, stopping her in her tracks. Then he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, and she wondered if it really was either the cancer in his brain or the treatments making him so temperamental.
She swallowed her pride and in the calmest voice she could manage, said, “Yes?”
“I need you to do something for me.” He gazed up at her and the softness was back in his eyes. “Please.”
It was the please that got her. That melted her into a puddle. And every bit of resolve went out the window that she herself had wanted to jump through earlier. “Of course. Anything.”
“I need you to start seeing Roman again.”
It took a second for the meaning of his words to settle in, and when they did her jaw nearly hit the desk. There was no way he meant what she thought he meant. After what she had just said to him? “Seeing him where?”
“You’re going to date him.” It was a demand, not a request, and she was so stunned, she couldn’t form a reply. Now Sutton was pimping her out?
Finally she managed, “Wh-what if he doesn’t want to see me?”
“He’s clearly still attracted to you, and I need to know what he’s up to.”
Still attracted to her? Oh no he didn’t. He did not just suggest...
Sutton glanced up at her and did a double take. She must have looked as horrified as she felt.
“I’m not asking you to sleep with him,” he said, though his tone suggested he would have expected her to do it had he asked.
Or maybe she was being overly touchy under the circumstances. He wasn’t necessarily in his right mind.
“Just take him out a few times. You used to be good friends. He’ll open up to you,” Sutton said.
What did he think she was, a spy or something? A female James Bond?
She couldn’t deny the lure of spending time with Roman. Purely out of curiosity, of course. Just to see what he was like now, and how much he had changed. But this was crazy. “Daddy, I don’t know if I can do that. You know I’m not a good liar.”
“So don’t lie,” he said, and when she frowned his gaze softened. “Princess, I don’t have much time left and I don’t want to spend it embroiled in another scandal. Brooks is still determined to take us down and I think Roman is helping him.”
“He said he’s not.”
Her father’s brows lifted. “And you trust him?”
She sighed. Of course not. What reason would she have to? He’d lied to her before. Why would she assume that he would be honest about anything? She was smarter than that.
She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
He held his hand out and she took it. His skin felt papery thin and so cold. He had aged so much in the past few months, and it broke her heart.
He squeezed. “I need to know what to expect, Princess. You’re the only one I trust. I need you to do this for me.”
And the guilt train pulled into the station. This was how he got her every time, and as much as she wanted to, as always she couldn’t say no.
“Okay,” she told him. “I’ll do it.”
“Do you have a date for the Welcome Home fund-raiser