I’m thankful for them both. My mother is tough and unyielding, but she taught me how to be strong. Meanwhile, my father taught me how to dream.
“How is the manor treating you, darling?” he asks.
“It’s good, Dad.” I smile at him. “And how was safari?”
“Oh, you know. Saw lions and tigers. Killed a rhino.”
“Dad.” I frown at him. “You can’t keep doing that. It’s not right.”
“What? It’s a good thing. They want us rich tourists to come down and kill their problem animals. Those rhinos are old and aggressive, and they’d need to be killed off regardless to protect the herd. Letting me do it means they get another $300 grand to help all the other animals.”
“You could just, you know, donate the money.”
“Oh, darling. I wanted to kill the rhino. We all win.”
I sigh and shake my head. “Disgusting, but I’m glad you had fun.”
“Yes, of course, darling.” He beams at me. “Now, what are you doing here?”
“I actually wanted to speak to Uncle Ron.”
“Is this about the warehouse?” Dad frowns at me. “Darling, business amongst family should be… you know. You shouldn’t do it.”
I laugh a little. “Come on. That’s silly.”
“Ronald here is very upset about the whole deal.” Dad looked back at his brother. “Very upset, you know.”
“Why? Because he didn’t get his full $2 million?” I glare at Uncle Ron. “You know we’re having trouble with the permits and zoning rights, don’t you?”
Uncle Ron frowns. “I don’t know what you mean.”
I walk over to him and sit down in my father’s chair. Dad hesitates before sitting in a different spot, looking incredibly uncomfortable. He believes business is beneath the Lofthouse family, mostly because he’s always been absurdly wealthy and never needed to be in business at all.
“How were you running that warehouse?” I ask Uncle Ron. “The land isn’t even zoned properly.”
“I just ran it,” he says defensively. “It was nothing at all. I had my business manager take care of the details.”
“Yeah, well, he didn’t.”
“How is that my fault? I had no clue.”
“Darling, come on,” Father says. “Leave him alone. You know he doesn’t have a mind for business.”
Uncle Ron huffs and glares at his brother. “You step off, Edward. This is between Lora and me.”
“Ronald—”
“I said, step off.” Uncle Ron glares at my father, who seems to shrivel a bit before standing.
“Very well,” he says. “I don’t like this whole business and I won’t be a part of it.” He storms off and I sigh a little.
“You upset him,” I say.
“He could do with some upsetting,” Uncle Ron says. “That man floats through the world like everything will be okay forever, but it won’t.”
I turn my attention back to him. “I’m finding that out the hard way.”
“What do you want me to say?” he asks. “We ran that warehouse as cheap as we could. That meant we cut some corners to make it profitable.”
I snort and shake my head. “And if it was so profitable, why did you need $2 million so desperately?”
He looks away. “None of your concern.”
“Listen, you’re causing me problems here. At least tell me the name of your business manager so I can contact him.”
“You don’t want to bother with him,” he says. “He’s a nobody. He’s a crook.”
“Ronald. Tell me his name.”
“No, I will do no such thing.” He shakes his head. “He is not to be contacted. He is not involved in this. That man is a crook.”
I groan. “I’m starting to understand why you need cash so badly.”
He glares at me. “See here, young lady—”
I step closer. “Tell me his name.”
He glares at me for a long moment. “Leopold Archer,” he says. “Goes by Leo. And if you find the crook, tell him he owes me money. Now, get out of here, Lora. I’m tired of this and you’ve overstepped your bounds.”
I stare at him for a long moment, and suddenly my temper gets the best of me.
“No, Ronald. You listen to me. You’re just a minor bit player in this whole house. You sit here, eat our food, drink our wine, leech off the generosity of my father, and when you finally have one damned thing we care about, you make me work as hard as possible for it.” I stand up, almost shaking with rage. “You’re useless. You’re hardly part of this family.”
He looks utterly taken aback. He blinks at me, starts to say something, stops himself, and takes a drink.
“Young lady,” he says finally. “When did you turn into… into… your mother?”
I smile at him, all ice and anger. “When I had to start dealing with men like you. Now, what can I do about these permits?”
“I don’t know,” he says, crossing his arms. “I have nothing to do with it.”
“You’re nothing. You realize that?”
“And you’re just a brat child. I’ll tell your father what you said here, and he’ll—”