I sigh. “I didn’t know about any of this.”

“Because I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want that accident hanging over your head for the rest of your life, especially for a boy you worked with one summer, and I knew you’d feel responsible.”

Aren’t I, though? I supplied us—Eric—with so much alcohol that day. Far too much. Maybe I do deserve part of the blame for how badly he got hurt. A hollow ache fills my chest.

“So, you helped Eric, right?” There’s a hint of a threat in my tone. If he didn’t, I’ll never forgive him.

“I did.” He studies his wrinkled hands. “It seemed like a smart move to head off any problems, in case they figured out who you were and were desperate enough to try to sue us.”

I roll my eyes. “How charitable of you.” Would the Vetters do something like that? Likely not, but stranger things have happened in the court of law.

“Deny it all you want, but I’ve dealt with too many of those types of people in my life to try to pretend they don’t exist. But the Vetters . . . they aren’t like that, at all.” A wry smile touches his lips. “His father reminded me of your mother’s dad. He refused my money at first.”

“How’d you get him to take it?”

“I went to his wife. At least she could see reason. They were going to go bankrupt, and then what good would they be to the boy once he got out of the hospital? So, I cleared their debt and helped renovate their house to accommodate him. Paid for a few other things.”

“That sounds like more than a hundred grand.”

“It was.” His eyes narrow on the patio stones. “I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve lain in bed, thinking that it could have been you tumbling down that hill.”

I sigh. He’s making it really difficult to stay angry with him. “How bad is it, Dad?”

Instead of answering, he reaches into his pocket to pull out a slip of paper. He hands it to me. It’s an address in Pennsylvania. “I’ve made sure he has everything he needs over the years.”

“Except his friends,” I mutter bitterly. Does Eric wonder why Ashley and I haven’t visited?

Will he even remember us?

I guess I’ll find out soon enough. “I’m going to see him as soon as I can. Tomorrow, if I can catch a flight.”

“Take the corporate jet. I won’t be using it until late next week.” Dad stands and, slipping his hands into his pockets, wanders over to the edge of the patio, to study the city below. This rooftop penthouse offers a sublime view. I was surprised that he didn’t move in himself when it became available. “I’m retiring at the end of the year.”

It takes me a moment to process his words, to make sure I heard them correctly. I couldn’t have, could I? The formidable Kieran Calloway, talking about retirement? And in the next six months? Despite my anger with him, panic strikes me. “Are you sick?”

He chuckles. “No, quite the contrary. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. It’s something I’ve been giving a lot of thought to lately, since your mother and I reconnected a few months ago. I’ve worked hard all my life, and now it’s time to be with her. To travel with her and eat meals with her. Do all the things she wanted me to do—begged me to do—for years but I couldn’t make time for.” He studies his bare left ring finger. “I don’t want to screw this up again.”

He has seemed happier, lighter, these past months. “I don’t know what to say,” I finally manage. “I guess I thought you’d stick around to see the Waterway through.”

“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon,” he mutters wryly. “But that project is years from completion. And I know you can handle it.”

Can I, though? Doubt creeps into my thoughts.

“If you think I’ve been especially harsh on you this year, it’s because I was trying to make sure you’d be ready to fill my role.” Dad’s hard profile softens with his smile. “But I realized, the night of the gala, that you’re ready. Or, as ready as anyone could be at this stage in the game. You’ll figure the rest of it out with the help of your team.”

My team. David, my ex-fiancé who I’ve come to value more now than ever before, and Mark, my proficient assistant, and the rest of the highly qualified people CG employs, short one lumpy, bitter body as of Tripp’s forced resignation today. I’ve already been reviewing Serge’s work history with us. He might be a suitable replacement and more-than-deserving of the promotion.

I may be failing in my personal life, but at least the professional side is on the rise.

And hearing that Dad has confidence in me makes my own confidence soar. Kyle was right—whether I’ll admit to it or not, I will always look for my father’s approval.

I guess the real question is, can I thrive without it?

“So, this thing with Mom is really serious, then.” I can’t hide the doubt from my voice. I’ve witnessed their hatred for each other for too many years to believe a reconciliation is possible.

“This thing with your mother has always been serious.” He peers at me, curiously. “From the very first day I saw her.”

Like it was for me with Kyle.

A lump swells in my throat.

Dad checks his watch. “I should be off now. I’m already late to meet your mother and Rhett for dinner.”

Oh. In all the chaos of the past twenty-four hours, I forgot about my brother. “Does he know about you two yet?”

“They might be discussing it over cocktails at this very moment.” Dad sighs heavily. “I’m not sure how he’ll respond to this news.”

I’m a huge stoner, remember? Stoners don’t judge. I smother my smile over my brother’s words. “You can start by telling him you’re using his spoon phone holder.”

“That ridiculous thing . . .” he mutters, his lips twisting in thought. “I guess it’s not the dumbest product I’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe leave that part out.”

Dad makes a sound that might be agreement as he wanders back to collect his suit jacket. He and Elton share a look of mutual displeasure. “I know you may not agree with how I handled things in the past, but you will understand it one day, when you’ve seen the kind of power our money yields, the ugliness and greed it brings out; when you have your own children and find yourself willing to do anything to protect them against the downfalls of our privilege. Maybe you’ll even find it in your heart to forgive me.” He moves for the patio door.

“But you married Mom, who had no money. And Rhett married Lawan, who really had no money,” I remind him. “And look how happy you all are.”

“Yes, but you’re my daughter.” He clears his suddenly hoarse voice as he pauses at the French door. “Your friend Kyle gave about half of that fifty thousand to the Vetters, before he reached out to me to help them. I plan on informing him that his debt to me is paid.”

I remember Kyle mentioning something about that last night. “Why would you do that?”

“Like I said . . . some might call it a respectable act.” With that he’s gone.

Leaving me to my heavy thoughts.