High Reward Page 8

  “She had the grades to graduate valedictorian if she’d graduated from a high school.”

  Oh, ugh, Dad. Stop.

  “What’s going on in here?” When in doubt about how to act in the ultimate awkward situation, play dumb, I always say.

  Aaron straightened from bending to look more closely at the picture of me holding up some weird objet d’art for my fifth-grade art project. “Gray! Good to see you again so soon.” He approached, and before I could stick my hand out for a shake, he bent and kissed my cheek.

  He was in his early thirties, a very successful man of average looks and build. He did not lack a shrewd business eye, though I’d always thought him amiable and easy to get along with. He didn’t have a cocky-jerkwad bone in his body. Quite the opposite of a certain male whose company I’d been keeping of late.

  “Welcome to Casa Barrett,” I said, turning to my dad. “Whatever’s cooking sure smells amazing. Did Mary leave something for you in the oven?”

  “Her lasagna. I know it’s your favorite, so I asked her special.” Dad approached, taking me in his arms in a tight hug and a particularly showy kiss on the cheek, which was strange because he wasn’t known for openly displaying affection—even for his only kid.

  “Well, I brought your favorite sourdough bread, so that will go perfectly.” I smiled. “I haven’t had her lasagna in ages. I’m drooling already!”

  Dad turned to Aaron. “She doesn’t actually drool.” And Aaron obediently laughed, shooting me a grin.

  I blinked. Oh, Dad. Just no. It sounded like he was trying to sell a used car. “How about we eat? I’m starving.” And before my dad could amend the statement, I jerked my head toward Aaron with a snarky smile. “I don’t actually starve myself, either.”

  Dad chuckled. “You’re so funny. I always tell people how funny my girl is.”

  I resisted the urge to look up to the ceiling in supplication. I was going to have words with him later. Possibly not pleasant, respectful words, either.

  Dad had a plain white table cloth and the red holiday napkins on the dining room table for some reason. Everything was done up fancy like for a holiday—likely by Mary, his housekeeper, before she’d left for the day.

  I dug into the still-warm sourdough, slathering it with soft butter and passing it along while we dished out helpings of lasagna from the casserole on the center of the table. To my utter shock, Dad re-entered the room with an uncorked bottle of red wine.

  “Doctor’s orders, I have to lay off the wine, but I have this for the two of you to share.” He bent and poured us each a glass as formally as if he were a sommelier at a five-star restaurant. I wanted to scowl, but I didn’t. Damn, he was laying it on thick.

  Dad chattered on good-naturedly about business—in between extolling my virtues. Then suddenly, only ten minutes into dinner, he wiped his mouth and stood. “I just remembered. I need to make a very important phone call. Ahh… Where’d I leave my phone?”

  “It’s in your front shirt pocket, Dad.”

  “Uh, yeah. Well, I’ll be right back.” He hesitated before leaving, stopping to refill our wine glasses before disappearing. I cringed inwardly and avoided Aaron’s gaze.

  As soon as he stepped from the room, Dad began very loudly. “Ah, hello there. Yes, it’s Conrad. Conrad Barrett. I have to make this short because my very beautiful daughter is here with me having dinner.” Mental face palm.

  Then he closed the door to his study, and mercifully, the rest of it was muffled before fading into nothing. I reached down and grabbed the remainder of my piece of bread and began to shred it nervously into little bits.

  “I’m, um, sorry about that.”

  Aaron set his fork down and looked at me with a smile. He was not a bad looking man. Maybe a bit younger than Ryan. His hair was much lighter, and he was about four inches shorter than Ryan. Not in nearly as good shape, but he had a nice smile. Although, admittedly, it didn’t light up everything around him like a class O star like Ryan’s smile did.

  Oh, ugh, Gray. Stop it. Stop it right now. I did not need to be comparing every man I met or spent any amount of time with to probably the most incomparable of men out there. In Pari’s own belief system, I had committed the unforgiveable sin of falling in love with the first and only—to date—man I’d ever slept with.

  She was right. It was a mistake. A big mistake.

  But try as I might, I couldn’t train my mind to go elsewhere. I made a mental note to apply some cognitive behavioral therapy to the problem when I had the time and inclination to do so. If I learned to pinch myself every time I thought of him, I’d either end up with a strong aversion to thinking about him or a severely bruised arm. Most likely the latter.

  For his part, Aaron looked extremely amused. “I’d be mortified on your behalf, Gray, but I think he’s being kind of adorable.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Adorable is one word for it. I have no idea why he’s suddenly decided that I need a date.”

  He smiled. “Your dad’s never been one to meddle but… Who knows? Maybe he just thinks you’re working too hard.”

  I shook my head. “But he never thinks his mentees work too hard, am I right?” I raised my brows at him.

  “Absolutely.”

  “And when you love your job, you never work a day in your life.”

  Aaron put his elbows on the table and pressed his fists to his chin. “So, tell me more about your job. I’ve been fascinated since I heard you talking about it at the restaurant last month.”

  I tried not to frown at him. If Aaron was feigning interest in hearing about XVenture merely for my benefit, then he was doing a remarkably good job of acting. Dad was gone for another hour at least and we ended up moving to the couch in the sitting room and talking while I answered his questions. Neither one of us touched another drop of wine, thank goodness.

  “Humankind was born of Earth, but it was never meant to die here,” I said, picking at a loose fiber on the back of Dad’s threadbare but very comfortable sofa.

  Aaron sat facing me with his back pressed up against the opposite arm of the couch. He mulled that over. “That’s a profound thought.”

  I laughed. “I can’t take credit for it. It’s a paraphrase from the movie Interstellar. But a good point is a good point, even if the source is from a script and uttered by Matthew McConaughey. We were meant to explore, to go out among the stars. To survive and find a way to help our planet sustain our growing population.”

  He laughed. “I’ll need to add that one to my watch list. You are full of surprises, Ms. Gray Barrett.”

  “Are you filling his head full of space and stars?” Our heads jerked in Dad’s direction. Neither of us had heard him enter the room. “I just checked the table. Neither one of you touched your wine.”

  I gritted my teeth and was as nice as possible to Dad, but I soon found myself making excuses and truthfully yawning. It had been another long, emotional day, and I still had work to get done.

  But Dad insisted on packaging the leftover lasagna for me, calling me into the kitchen to do so. “I don’t suppose you want to take that wine.”

  “It’s an open container, Dad. I can’t. Just stick it in your fridge.”

  He threw everything into a secondhand grocery bag, one of those thin plastic ones, then cursed and doubled up when he saw that it could barely hold the weight of its contents. Dad flicked a gaze up at me. “See you in a week or two? You’ll be all moved out and back at your apartment by then, right?”

  I frowned at him. How the hell did he know that I was moving out of Ryan’s place? Had Tolan told him? But when?

  Then it occurred to me, something Tolan had said at lunch earlier in the week. “Dad did you have a meeting at XVenture last week?”

  Dad frowned. “What? No. I haven’t been there since they did that nice tour for the investors.”

  “But you saw Tolan, right? At Happy’s?”

  A strange expression crossed his face, and he glanced up at me sharply. There was f
ear in his eyes. Raw fear. What was that about?

  He turned his face away quickly and fussed with the bag. “Yeah, I had lunch with Tolan last week. No biggie.”

  I leaned forward to ask him another question, when he snatched up the bag and headed out of the kitchen.

  “Aaron will help you out with your things.”

  I didn’t need the help but accepted it without comment, trying not to roll my eyes. Dad’s weird behavior certainly was puzzling. Had he met with Tolan to tell him he was pulling the funding from the XPAC program? No, Tolan would have surely mentioned that to me.

  What else could it be? There was obviously something about that meeting that Dad didn’t want me finding out. He was so flustered, he forgot to give me his customary kiss on the cheek goodnight.

  Aaron was a good sport about escorting me unnecessarily to my car. Just as he shut the front door, he said, “Sorry, Gray but there is not a chance in hell that I’m disobeying Conrad’s direct orders about helping you out.”

  I blew out a long breath. “Please don’t tell me he ordered you to ask me out or something.”

  He laughed. “Not at all. He doesn’t have to order me to do that. Will you go out with me sometime?”

  I swallowed and straightened, looking into his face. He was a really nice guy, and I’d enjoyed talking with him. But was I really ready for this? To move on to someone else so soon?

  I took a deep breath to turn him down when he held up a hand. “Don’t say anything now. But can I call you? We’ll just go out for coffee or something. Nothing big.”

  I tilted my head and smiled. “I can do that.”

  He grinned. “You’ve inspired me to learn more about the space program. I’m going to watch Interstellar before I talk to you again. Any other good ones I should hit?”

  I nodded. “Definitely The Right Stuff. Not to be missed!”

  “Got it.”

  “And let me know how much more you want to know. Tolan is going to do a tour of the XVenture facility for some friends sometime in the next few weeks. I can get you in on that.”

  His face lit up. “I’d love it. Let me know.”

  He put my bag of food on the passenger seat as I climbed behind the wheel. Thankfully, it was dark, because the less he saw of my messy interior, the better.

  I pulled out and drove the hour and ten minutes to Ryan’s house, uneventfully until the last five minutes. As was normally the case when driving through the hills at night, the wildlife came out in droves. I normally took the curves and hills slowly, but I was so distracted as I thought about my dad’s weird behavior. All of it had been so bizarre, from the strange set up date, to knowing that I was moving out of Ryan’s place, to the way he’d reacted when I’d asked him about meeting with Tolan at Happy’s last week.

  As I ran everything through my mind, I almost didn’t see the little possum that darted into the road then froze and played dead when captured in my high-beam headlights. I pounded on the brakes, the tires squealing.

  The food Aaron had put on the seat went flying, and the contents of the leftover box Dad had fixed for me splattered all over the floor. The rich smell of tomato sauce, basil and garlic assailed my senses.

  With a groan, I maneuvered my way around the little guy, hoping he’d make it out of the street in time to avoid the next car. I pulled into Ryan’s driveway, entered the front door, dropped my stuff in the living room, and beelined it to the kitchen to grab a trash bag and a roll of paper towels.

  I could easily see what I was doing due to how brightly lit Ryan kept his grounds until around midnight or so—I guess in case he was needed outside. In any case, his phobia of the dark helped me out this time. And surprisingly, he wandered out after a few minutes and caught me on my knees mopping the muck out of my car.

  “You left the front door open.”

  I shoved a goop-laden bunch of paper towels into the trash bag and tore some fresh ones off the roll. “I’m sorry. I was in a rush to get this cleaned up.”

  He glanced inside the car then muttered. “I can help you. Let me go grab a couple things.”

  He headed to the garage, returning a few minutes later with a battery operated wet-dry shop vacuum and a bucket.

  After sucking the mess up into his vacuum, he filled the bucket with some soapy water and sponged out the fragrant mess.

  “My car is going to smell like an Italian bistro for months,” I said as I finished wiping out the wet floor. I sat back and looked at him but avoided his eyes. “Thank you for your help.”

  “So, did some hobo upchuck in your car or something?”

  “They were leftovers.” I squinted up at him. It was hard to see his face as he was backlit by the brilliant house lights. “From dinner with my dad.”

  Ryan scowled, bent stiffly to scoop up his bucket and vacuum, and disappeared into the garage again. I puzzled, looking after him. What was the scowl for? Was he mad at me?

  And if so, why?

  And more so, why did I care?

  I set my jaw and closed my car door, walking the garbage bag full of the remains of dinner over to the garbage can, trashing it.

  He appeared from the garage again at that moment. “Your old man needs to be more careful about where he puts your leftovers in your car.”

  “Oh, he didn’t do it. Aaron did, but he was careful. I just had to brake really hard for a possum.”

  His head snapped in my direction, his voice clipped. “Aaron? Who’s that?”

  I turned to him to ask him if he was seriously jealous, but I didn’t have to ask. His face said it all. No that’s not confusing at all for me, Ryan. Keep acting like a possessive cave man a week after you’ve dumped me. That will make things so much easier to understand.

  I folded my arms over my chest and shrugged. “Someone who mentored with my dad a while back. He was also a guest at dinner.”

  Even in the evening lighting, I could see the color darken his face. He really was affected by this. I didn’t say I don’t have feelings, he’d said. But what, exactly were those feelings?

  “I didn’t say his name to make you jealous, Ryan. I was just explaining what happened with the leftovers in the car.”

  He stiffened. “What makes you think I’m jealous?”

  I huffed out a half snort before controlling the rest of my reaction. “The way you’re acting.”

  He ignored that and plowed on with more questions. “Does your father do that a lot? Set you up with his mentees?”

  I licked my lips. “He’s never done it before, no.”

  “Before…but he did it tonight? That bastard needs to stay the hell out of your life.” His voice was decibels louder than normal and tight, full of hostility. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  What the hell was going on? First Tolan and his weird little revelation, then Dad and his super abnormal behavior. Now Ryan’s outward and renewed animosity toward my dad.

  Was it all related?

  “Are you dating this man? Aaron?”

  I blinked, pulling back in disbelief and holding my hands out. “Wait, wait, wait a minute. Hold the phone. Are you asking me a question that is clearly none of your business?”

  He froze, put his hands on his hips, and then, after his gaze warred with mine for several tense seconds, focused on the ground between us.

  We stood like that for a moment while the night sounds continued indifferently around us—a slight breeze rustling the branches and leaves, the crickets and frogs from the canyon, the distant and constant hiss of the freeway. He took in a deep breath and let it go, giving me a curt nod. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s not my business.” But the way he said it made the words sound as though they had been squeezed out of him.

  I frowned. Something nagged at the edge of my thoughts, probably as a result of the weird information I’d collected this week. “Did, uh, did you tell Tolan last week that I was moving out?”

  He shook his head. “How could I tell him something I didn’t even know my
self at that point?”

  True enough, but I’d had no idea if he’d planned the breakup ahead of time. I’d like to think that he hadn’t. I’d like to trust my belief in the best part of him. That he wouldn’t have carried on even while planning to send me packing. I’d like to think the idea had only struck him on Sunday.

  But it had been so abrupt. So sudden. Triggered by something.

  I decided to play a hunch and see how he’d react in his vulnerable state. “Tolan and my dad met at Happy’s last week. Were you there, too?”

  Ryan appeared to stop breathing at that point, the color draining from his face. He didn’t move a muscle, nor did he say a word.

  But I had my answer. My dad had met with Tolan. And Ryan had been there, too.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the subject of the conversation had been. I sucked in a long breath and let it out. It made sense; the abruptness of Ryan’s actions, the weird first-date set up Dad had tried to pull off tonight, Dad’s knowledge that I’d be moving out of Ryan’s house, and that fear in his eyes when I’d brought up his meeting with Tolan.

  “Did my Dad tell you to break things off with me?”

  Chapter 8

  Ryan

  I stood frozen, staring at her like an idiot, a clamp closing around my throat. What could I say in response to that honest, straightforward question? So like her. So her.

  But I couldn’t. I couldn’t.

  Instead, I blurted, “You’re changing the subject, but that’s fine. We won’t talk about this anymore.”

  Then I did what any red-blooded American hero would do. I turned tail and ran. Well not literally. I sauntered quickly into my house as if I really had a place to hide from her and her question.

  No, I wouldn’t hide. That wasn’t me.

  But it actually was. I was hiding so much. Hiding from everyone around me. My colleagues, my closest friends. And all that I was hiding from her. Her. The person I least wanted to hide anything from.

  I ran a hand through my hair as I crossed the threshold into my house, considering how I’d approach this. Maybe I could regroup then come back to this conversation later—better yet, tomorrow.