“Hello to you too,” Asher says from where he’s bent over the pool table, about to take his shot.
“I’m serious.” I don’t spare them a glance as I continue toward my destination, but I can feel the energy in the room shift.
“I’m on it,” Lincoln says, and he returns his pool cue to the holder on the wall.
“Everything okay?” Ford asks, turning the television off.
“I’m not talking to you.” I reach for a glass from the cupboard and peruse the array of bottles in an attempt to decide which one will make my problems feel the furthest away. Because right now, they feel like a probe about to breach my asshole.
“What the hell did I do?” Ford asks.
I glance over my shoulder at him while I reach for a bottle of Glenfiddich. “You’re the one to blame for what I’m about to tell you. If you hadn’t brought her here, this wouldn’t be happening.”
He frowns but doesn’t bother to ask who I’m referring to. Damn straight the bastard knows.
By the time I’ve returned the bottle to the shelf and taken a large swig of the amber liquid, Ryker steps off the elevator.
“What’s the emergency? My firm’s client just got caught with an ounce of cocaine in his car.” He drops himself down on the couch beside Ford.
His PR firm is the top one in the country. There’s a host of other people in the company who can help get some pampered celebrity or devious politician out of trouble.
Asher and Lincoln each take a seat.
“What’s this about?” Lincoln asks.
“Before you start”—Asher holds up a hand—“do I need a drink?”
When does he not need a drink these days?
I pin him with a stare, and he shrugs, leaning back in his seat and digging his hand into his faded jeans, producing a metal tin detailed with delicate scrolling on the outside. He opens it up and pulls out a joint, then a lighter from his other pocket, and lights it up.
When he exhales and realizes we’re all waiting for him, he smugly says, “Okay, I’m ready.”
I roll my eyes. “My father came to see me today.”
“And what? Dick the Prick was actually a prick?” Asher laughs, taking a haul off the joint before passing it to Lincoln.
“Yeah, I called you all here on a Tuesday to let you know that Richard Stone is still an asshole. Jesus. All the booze and drugs really have fried your brain.”
Asher scowls but keeps his mouth shut.
“He came to see me about Isla.”
Ford’s brows shoot up to his forehead. “What interest does he have in her?”
“That’s what I want to know,” I say.
Lincoln holds the joint out to me, and I take it from him, bringing it to my mouth and inhaling. The potent scent meets my nose, and I exhale the smoke. The tension in my body loosens.
“He didn’t tell you?” Ryker asks.
I shake my head and take another drag before passing it on to Ford. He puts his hand up, so I hand it off to Ryker. Ford must really be taking this candidacy seriously if he’s not smoking pot.
“He came in asking what my relationship with her was, and after I informed him I don’t have one, he told me I better have her eating out of the palm of my hand by week’s end.” I highjack the joint before Ryker can pass it on.
Everyone absorbs what I said, no doubt trying to figure out my dad’s angle. We all have fucked-up fathers and growing up under their ridiculous commands should make this easy to unpuzzle. I sit down on the couch and sip my scotch.
“I don’t get it,” Ryker finally says.
“I asked him what his endgame was, and he told me I didn’t need to know right now. Then when I refused to do what he wanted, he brought up prom night.” All sets of four eyes stare at me unblinking. Now they understand why I dragged them all down here. “Exactly. Whatever he wants, he wants it bad enough to use the best leverage he has over me to get it. He’s going to call in his favor.”
“Fuck.” Ford pushes up off the couch and paces in front of us.
“Fuck is right. And you’re the one who brought this to my doorstep.”
Without warning, Ford spins and barrels toward me. I let my glass fall to the floor to get my hands up before he reaches me. I stand, gripping his T-shirt and walking him backward.
“This is not my fault!” he yells, his face red, eyes wide with a maddened look in them. He tries to shrug off my hands, but I grip his T-shirt harder.
“I see the Hulk has come out to play. It’s been a few years. How you doing, buddy?” I say.
Ford’s apple didn’t fall far from his dad’s hot-temper tree.
He takes a swing at me, but I duck, putting him against the wall. He’s so predictable when he loses his shit.
Asher and Lincoln each grab one of my shoulders, and I release Ford. When Ford comes at me again, the two grab his arms and subdue him while he hurls profanities at me, trying to wrench himself from their grip.
“Calm down,” Lincoln says.
After a minute, Ford does settle down, but he doesn’t join us on the couch. Instead, he bends at his waist, heaving for a breath by the bar.
“You good?” Asher asks.
Ford nods.
“Like I was saying, you brought her back here. If Isla weren’t here in the first place, I wouldn’t be in this position. Now we have to figure out what my dad wants so that we can get ahead of his plan.”
“I can do some digging,” Lincoln says. “See what I can unearth on what she’s been doing since she was away—look into her financials, her parents.”
I nod.
“She just finished law school, hasn’t taken the bar yet,” Ford says.
“That’s what she told you,” Ryker says. “Who knows whether it’s the truth or not? It’s not as if any of us kept up with her after her sex tape with Asher was released.”
My teeth gnash together at the mention of the sex tape.
“See what you can find,” I say to Lincoln. “In the meantime, what should I do about my dad?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You need to do as he told you. Play nice with her.” Ryker’s right, but I’d been hoping to hear something else.
“What’s your problem with her anyway? I thought you two used to be friends back in high school?” Asher asks.
“Who said I had a problem with her?”
“Your face at the party last week. You looked like she just took a shit in your Maybach,” he says, lighting up another joint.
“I’m surprised you even remember there was a party last week.” I cross my arms over my chest.
Asher grins. “I can handle myself. It’s all up here.” He taps his temple.
“I don’t have a problem with her. I just think someone with her reputation isn’t good for Ford’s campaign.”
Ford looks at me as if he knows better, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s done enough damage. It’s not like we all sat around and talked about who we liked back in high school like Harper and her friends did.
“Good. Then it won’t be a problem for you to do what your dad says until we can get one step in front of him,” Lincoln says. “The last thing we need is him calling in that favor.”