: Chapter 28

I clench my hands at my side, taking calming breaths as I ride the elevator up to my father’s office.

He’s expecting me.

I made sure of it.

I want him prepared. I want him wondering why I’m coming to talk to him.

I want him possibly shaking a little.

Hardy asked if I wanted him to come with me, but I told him I needed to do this myself. I need to face my father and have this conversation. I know Hardy has some things to work out with him, but that’s on a different level. When it comes to business, that’s between me and my dad.

He’s always seen me as competition, as someone to disparage and insult, but not anymore.

It ends now.

Today.

The elevator doors part, and I lift my head to the ostentatiously decorated space with the wood paneling and gold accents everywhere. It…it feels embarrassing.

There’s no need for such extravagance. My father followed the rule that people will want to work with you based on how you show your wealth, but Hardy and I don’t have that same mindset. Neither do the Cane brothers. You simply prove your worth by the way you invest in the projects presented to you.

I move through the space, a few heads popping up, eyes widening when they see me walk by. I nod, offer them a smile, because if anything, I’m not the dick in this building.

When I reach his receptionist, I don’t even recognize her. Not surprised—my dad is unpleasant to work with. I nod my head and say, “Good morning. Hudson Hopper to see Reginald.”

She fumbles with the phone when her eyes meet mine and she says, “Oh, right, um, please head in. He’s expecting you.”

“Thank you,” I say and offer her a smile before I open the heavy door to my dad’s office, dark and something you’d see on Mad Men.

My dad isn’t sitting at his desk, twirling his mustache and waiting for me; instead, he’s sitting in one of the chairs in his sitting area, a cup of coffee in hand, looking fresh and relaxed. Unlike me, who’s still struggling to keep his eyes open from the lack of sleep and the stress this entire situation has placed upon me.

“Good morning,” Dad says with a smirk derived from the devil himself.

“Good morning,” I say as I unbutton my suit jacket and then take it off, wanting to keep things casual. “Can I have a seat?”

“Would love it,” Dad says, acting far too nice at the moment. Almost…cocky. Little does he know what I’m about to present him with. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’m okay,” I say, even though an IV drip of caffeine would be ideal right now. Once I deal with this, I’m headed back to London on a red-eye to make the wedding. Just need to power through on this.

Leaning forward, Dad sets his coffee on the table in front of us and then crosses his ankle at his knee and opts for a more comfortable position. “How is the missus?”

“I’m not here to talk about that.”

“So you don’t want to talk about your wife that you never told me about?”

Remaining calm, I say, “She’s off-limits.”

He studies me for a moment and then asks, “Okay, so then to what do I owe the pleasure?”

I lean forward, my forearms on my thighs, and look my dad dead in the eyes. “We know you lied about the trust documents.”

A master at the poker face, he casually says, “What are you talking about?”

“When we first got the papers from you, we wondered how we could have possibly missed such a detail. We were racking our brains over it. Honestly, we were disappointed in ourselves. That was until we pulled out the actual documents that we signed and saw how you tampered with them.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Normally, this would infuriate me and I would fly off the handle because we both know he’s lying. We both know his naivete is not even remotely close to authentic, and I hate that he thinks he can get away with it, but I’m going to try for a different tactic this go-around. I’m going to remain calm.

I’m going to reason with him.

I sit back in my chair, taking a calming breath, and say, “Can I ask you something?”

“It’s weak to ask if you can ask something. A strong man would just ask.” His attempt at gaining control over the situation. Not going to trigger me.

“The greatest strength isn’t about how hard you can steamroll a conversation but how you can understand the person you’re conversing with. I know you like to have control; therefore, I’m giving you the ability to tell me yes or no.”

His lips thin ever so slightly—not so much that someone who doesn’t know my dad would notice but just enough that his son who has been studying him for years will notice.

“Just ask your question,” he says in an annoyed tone, which gives me hope that maybe I’m breaking through the wall he clearly erected around himself.

“The lawsuit, when you were putting it together with your lawyers, dreaming up plans to sue your children, what was the end goal? Was it money? Was it because you were hurt and you thought it was the only way you could feel better? Was it to teach us a lesson in business? What was your end goal? I’m just genuinely curious, so I can understand you better.”

“You don’t need to understand people in business, Hudson. This is where you’re going wrong. There is no understanding. There’s the deal and if the deal will benefit you or not. The minute you start trying to understand people is the minute you show weakness.”

“I don’t see it that way,” I say. “I see it quite the opposite, actually. When talking with the Cane brothers and making a deal with them, we sat down and had an honest conversation about our intentions, our goals, and the why behind it. It was the reason we were able to secure the deal with them. Working with Archie and Terrance in the UK, I know it’s something you’ve been after, but sitting down with Terrance, offering him a chance to get to know me on a personal level, to understand my intentions, is what’s securing me that deal.” My dad’s jaw grows tight. “Business might have been conducted differently when you were establishing yourself, and I’ll be honest, it worked. You built an empire.”

“One you don’t want any part in,” he says, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair.

“I didn’t want any part in the way you were treating people, Dad,” I say honestly, with a calm tone. “I’m in awe of the way you’ve been able to grow into different markets and establish a reputable brand, but I don’t believe you need to walk over everyone to get there. That’s why we left, not because we don’t love you or because we don’t believe in the hard work you’ve put into Hopper Industries.”

This time, he looks to the side, toward the window that offers one of the better views of the bay that I’ve ever seen.

“You and I both know the documents your lawyer sent have been tampered with, and that’s illegal. We’re not going to countersue nor do we plan on making a counterattack. Hardy and I spoke, and we want there to be peace between us—peace in the family—but you’re making that hard on us. And if you keep trying to deepen this divide, you’re going to be absent for a lot of things. Jude and Haisley are going to start having a family soon. Do you really want to miss out on that? What about Hardy and Everly? We’re moving on with our lives and entering different phases, and we want you and Mom to be a part of that, but only if you’re going to drop the bullshit and stop coming after us. I know you’re trying to hold on to us, to keep us working for you, but you’re only driving us further and further away.”

He presses his hand to his cheek, still looking out toward the bay. He sits there silently, not saying a thing, so I just let him continue to do so as I wait. I want him to say something; I want him to think this over.

Finally, after what feels like minutes, he says, “I spent years building a business that my family could take over, that could be handed down for generations.” He meets my eyes. “You knew that, Hudson. You and Hardy both knew that. I was priming you; I was ready to retire and hand you the reins, and then you just left. You met up with a competitor and started something new. Do you know what kind of a slap to the face that was? Do you understand the embarrassment I’ve had to endure from such a careless decision?”

“It wasn’t careless, Dad. I need you to understand that.”

“You chose people you barely knew over me.” He points to his chest. “You chose a lower-level employee over me.”

“Because you were trying to blackmail your daughter,” I counter. “You were trying to take away the one thing that Haisley built and grew on her own. The pride you have for Hopper Industries, that’s the same kind of pride Haisley has for her rental business. And you were trying to take that away and own it.”

“Because she left too!” he shouts. “You weren’t supposed to leave. You weren’t supposed to just take off. She was the first to go, and I could feel it. Hardy with the farms, he was the next to go, and it was only a matter of time before you took off as well. I built the business for you three, damn it,” he says, slamming his fist into the chair, startling me. “I built it for you, and you just walked away.”

He looks away again, and I know it’s because, this time, he doesn’t want me to see the emotion on his face. He doesn’t want me to see his weakness, but I’m seeing it.

We are his weakness.

His family is his weakness, and I think he needs to know that, despite his decisions, we will always have love for him.

I stand from my chair, move his coffee to the side, and then sit on the table in front of him. I place my hands on his knees and say, “Dad, look at me.”

When he doesn’t at first, I wait.

After a few seconds, I repeat, “Please, look at me.”

He takes a breath and turns toward me.

“Haisley built her business on her own because she had something to prove to herself. You treated her like the youngest, only girl in the family. She was your little sweet pea. Everything was handed to her, and she hated that. She wanted to prove that she could do something on her own, make something of herself that was separate from her family, and I don’t blame her for that. Living in the shadow of her brothers growing up was not easy, especially with how much you focused on teaching Hardy and me the ways of the business. But Hardy, he wasn’t going anywhere. He loved working on the farms. He loved the almond industry and the potential there. He was pulling away because that’s what he wanted to focus on. Me, I had no intentions of doing anything other than following in your footsteps.”

I press my hand on top of his aged fingers. He’s stiff at first, unsure of what to do with the touch, but then he relaxes as he looks me in the eyes.

“I love you, and I respect what you’ve been able to do, but I was not going to sit by and let you hurt my sister, let you hurt others by making selfish business decisions. I have too much pride in our family name, so leaving was the only option. And I’m sorry that we hurt you, but we need you to know where we were coming from.”

He glides his tongue over his teeth and says, “Well, thank you for letting me know where you stand.”

Did I expect him to pull me into a hug and apologize for what he did? No.

I honestly thought he would have kicked me out a few minutes ago, but I’m still here.

So I take the moment to just keep my hand on his, and when he doesn’t move, when he doesn’t ask me to leave, I say, “I would love to get to a point in our lives again where we can spend a weekend together in the Hamptons or at one of the resorts and have family time, remind ourselves where we started. Have another Hopper Game competition, just get back to us. But we need you on board, Dad. We can’t allow you back in our lives unless you understand where we are coming from and why we made the choices that we made. Not to hurt you or embarrass you but to show you that you raised three children with values and ethics and respect. So much so that we’re going to hold our own father accountable for his actions.”

I squeeze his hand and stand. He continues to look out the window while I gather my jacket and slip it back on.

Not sure I need to say anything else, I head toward the door just in time for him to call out, “Hudson?” I turn toward him and meet his weary eyes. “I’ll have my lawyers drop the lawsuit.”

As if he’s doing me a favor. But it’s probably the best I can get from him for now.

“Thanks, Dad.”

I reach for the door and he says, “And maybe, when you’re ready, you can tell me more about your wedding.”

I feel my skin break out in needles as I think about Sloane and all of the unanswered and unread text messages I’ve allowed to just sit in my phone.

I glance over my shoulder. “Yeah, maybe, Dad. Have a good day.”

Feeling like I have my head on straight, I let out a deep breath as my driver weaves through traffic.

That was…that was heavier than I thought it was going to be. I expected to go in there and lay down the hammer, scare my dad away, but then something inside me changed. I saw the anger in his eyes, but also…sorrow.

He could see it all in front of him, slipping away from him, his children creating that distance, and there was regret there.

Actual regret.

I didn’t think I would ever see that from my father, but it was plain as day, and it’s what made me switch the way I handled it. It’s what made me change my mind.

It’s what makes me feel like maybe the man does have a heart.

Relieved, I take my phone out of my pocket and open my text messages. I have four unread.

Four from one person.

Four that have gone unanswered.

Guilt consumes me as I stare down at the blue dot, letting me know that I have not touched them, haven’t even looked at them. But I couldn’t. I knew if I looked at them, I wouldn’t have been able to be strong for my meeting with my dad.

I knew I wouldn’t have my mind in the right place.

With Sloane, I’ve come to find that she weakens me, and not in a sense where it’s a bad thing. She’s weakened me in the sense that she’s my Achilles’ heel. Shit, just like my dad’s weakness is his kids. That’s a startling realization.

But where we differ is I know with Sloane, if I thought about her and the scared look in her eyes when I took off, I would have returned. I almost did when I was in the airport. I almost threw caution to the wind and turned right back around to hold her. To comfort her.

But responsibilities for the business, for protecting the people around me who count on me, that took precedence. I had to shut down the lawsuit, to move on, to make sure everyone else was taken care of.

And now that it’s over, I can focus on her.

Sloane.

The woman who deserves all of my attention.

The woman that…fuck, that I’m falling for.

She’s actually taught me so much about myself in the last few weeks. She’s shown me that I don’t have to be serious all the time. That I can speak of my past and not be ashamed. That I can find comfort in another human. That I can open my heart to someone other than my siblings…

And she’s so goddamn smart. So intuitive, so much more mature than I’ve ever given her credit for. She’s the reason why I’ve been able to carry on with this business dealing. She’s the reason I’ve been able to remain grounded. She’s the reason why I want to rush back to London, tell her that I patched everything up, that I…that I want to give us a chance. Because she’s where I find peace. She’s where I feel like myself the most, and she needs to know that.

I tap on her name and I skim over her messages, dread filling me with every word written by her.

Fuck.

I drag my hand over my face, feeling her fear in her texts. The panic. The worry.

The anger.

I…I hurt her.

I fucked up.

My stomach twists, tangles within itself as I start to type back a response, telling her that I’m so sorry, that I’m coming back, that I’ll be there soon…but as I’m about to press send, I realize one thing—this is not good enough.

She deserves better.

She deserves so much more than a text message.

And that’s what I’m going to give her.