Shopping for a Billionaire 4 (Page 20)

Shopping for a Billionaire 4(20)
Author: Julia Kent

Mine.

Because they’re talking about me.

“Declan.” The voice is low, gravelly, and very angry.

That voice is my dad’s. Controlled and tight, he introduces himself to Andrew, whose voice shifts down a half-octave, like a bunch of younger gorillas meeting a new orangutan they’ve never seen before, but one who disrupts the social order not only because he’s strange looking, but because he’s communicating pretty clearly that you don’t mess with him.

My dad. The one who let me paint his toenails pink when I was seven and who walked around at the beach in flip-flops? The former vet tech who stole Mom away from Declan’s dad?

Andrew says his goodbyes. Please don’t need to pee. Please don’t need to pee. Please don’t need to pee, I pray, and he doesn’t turn the corner. If he did, we’d be able to kiss, because my ear is that close to the edge of the hall.

My ex and my dad are about to square off. A rush of heat and terror spikes my skin. If I ever imagined a parent calling Declan out if would be Mom, like she did with Steve at the ice cream parlor. Not…my dad.

“How are you?” Declan asks conversationally. His voice is so neutral it sounds like a series of sound bites, like phone trees at major corporations. How—Are—You? He couldn’t sound more robotic if he tried. I’ve seen him in enough tense situations to know that this is not his normal reaction.

“You don’t need to engage in meaningless pleasantries,” Dad replies. His voice is so deep, so filled with implied rage. Danger pours out of that mouth, and I’m hearing a side to him I didn’t know he possessed.

A long time ago Mom told me something I didn’t understand. She said, “Marry a beta-alpha.”

“A what?”

“A beta-alpha. It’s a kind of man. You know what an alpha male is, right? The dominant, self-assured, slightly arrogant guy who annoys you just enough to hate him but he’s so powerful and commanding that against your better judgment you want to sleep with him. Desperately.”

“Uh, sure.” She’d said this to me right after Steve dumped me, and if I was going to sleep with anyone, it would be Ben & Jerry.

“A beta-alpha is different. He’s the man who seems more docile. Whipped, even.”

“Like Dad.”

She had laughed. “Like your father, but don’t ever be fooled, Shannon. Jason is the one in charge when he needs to be. We’re equals—always have been, always will be—and he just doesn’t care about the trivial stuff like I do.”

“Dad has an alpha side? Where does he hide it? In your purse?”

She’d held up one perfectly manicured finger and wagged it in my face, hard. “And that’s your mistake. With your father, you can push and push and push and he won’t push back until you cross his line. That line is way, way farther back than most men’s lines, but it’s there.”

“A line?”

“You cross a beta-alpha’s line and the alpha comes out. And it takes a long, long time to make it go away. And don’t ever think that it’s lesser just because he’s a beta most of the time.” She’d given me a long, hard look. “Beta-alphas always, always win.”

“Over a what? An alpha-alpha?” I’d snickered.

Her wistful smile had made my heart pause. “Over every other man who think they have the right to cross the line of anyone your father loves.”

I think Declan just found that line.

“Pleasantries.” Declan’s not asking a question, or requesting clarification. “No.”

The abject silence that follows his final word makes me feel like I’m floating to the ceiling, like gravity ceased to exist with that single declaration of “no,” like all the laws of physics don’t matter any longer, because my father and Declan are facing off over me.

Me.

“Good. I’m not here to yell at you or exact revenge, or”—Dad blows a long puff of air out, and I can imagine him shifting his weight onto one hip, his toes curling under as he struggles with something he doesn’t want to face, but makes himself do it anyhow—“but I’m here to tell you that if you broke up with Shannon because of what happened to your mother, then you might want to rethink that.”

Your mother? Dad knows what I’ve been trying to figure out for the past week? It’s like God took the world and shook it, hard, like a snow globe.

“Excuse me?”

Dad laughs, not the gentle laugh of my childhood, or the boisterous, rumbling sound of comedy, but a more nuanced sound, one that is masculine and just the tiniest bit dangerous.

“Steve was the last man to hurt Shannon. I never liked him.” Dad’s voice goes raspy. Confidential. I see his fingers twitch at his hip, as if he’s holding back from grabbing Declan’s elbow and pulling him in closer to tell a secret.

“Never liked him,” Dad continues, eyes narrowing. “I faked it. Pretended he was fine, but there was always something not quite right with him. Slimy. He was a user. The kind of man who views people as fleshbags they manipulate for their own purposes, then chuck aside when they’re done.”

Declan makes an ambiguous sound in his throat that sounds like Man Code for “go on.”

“You, though, are nothing like Steve.”

I can hear Declan smile.

“I liked you the moment I met you, and I know Shannon fell for you. Hard. You don’t get that in life more than once, you know? That moment when your eyes meet a total stranger’s and you realize you’re a goner. Done. You just met the love of your life and forever isn’t some fantasy people weave to get through reality. It’s staring at you over an injured dog.”

“Huh?”

Dad laughs again. “Long story. In your case, it was staring at you over a men’s room toilet.”

Declan snorts.

I can’t stand it. Inching slowly, cheek against the wall, I position my eye so Dad comes into view.

Dad’s face goes deadly serious so quickly it’s like he’s rebooted his emotional core. “But maybe I misjudged you. Maybe you’re more like your father than I ever imagined.”

“What the hell does my father have to do with anything?”

“I think you damn well know James has a great deal to do with what you’re doing to Shannon right now. And I can’t do a damn thing to stop you, but I won’t keep my mouth shut, either.”

Their conflict has my heart ricocheting around my ribcage, and I feel like I’m floating as the two men I care about most in the world are going head-to-head. Dad’s face is so red he looks like he’ll have a heart attack, and Declan’s nostrils flare like a bull’s.