"Brooke." He didn't ask to come in, simply stood there as if it was his right. As if there was no question that she would let him in.
She unlatched the door and opened it for him.
She didn't see a lot of her parents, not in the last five years, anyway. But she also hadn't cut them off. As far as she knew, her mother had played no part in her dad's bid to end her wedding. And as for her father--well, he may have presented her with an impossible decision, but she'd been the one who made her choice. And while he hadn't been happy when she quit medical school, he had ultimately agreed that it was her life.
She'd accepted his grudging acquiescence, but they weren't close. And she knew they never would be again.
"The place looks good," he said as he strode past her into the living room. She cringed at the surprise in his voice but told herself to let it go.
"This is what I do, Daddy." So much for letting it go. "Did you think I was buying the place because it was cheap? Call me crazy, but I like floors and ceilings." The small house in the popular Austin neighborhood had been abandoned for years following an estate dispute. It had fallen into serious disrepair, but the bones were solid. And when Amanda had shown it to her, Brooke had fallen in love.
At the time, her remodeling company was still taking off, so she'd had plenty of free time to put into the place. She'd remodeled the detached office first, then used it for meetings with potential clients, giving them a taste of what she and her crew were capable of. And every client who met her at the house had signed on the dotted line.
No doubt about it--she and the little house were good for each other.
Where she saw success and opportunity, though, her father saw lost dreams. "It's rather small," he said, looking around, and she knew that he was seeing the eight-bedroom Westlake mansion where he lived with her mother. A mansion bought with dollars earned from the law and a medical practice.
"It's plenty big for me, Daddy. Why are you here?" That came out rougher than she'd intended, but honestly, the man showed up unannounced on her doorstep and immediately began criticizing her house?
He fixed a sharp eye on her. The kind she'd seen him use from the bench to quell obnoxious attorneys or uncooperative witnesses.
"I don't mean to be rude," she hurried to say, even as she wanted to kick her own ass. "It's only that I have a meeting downtown in a few hours. I need to shower and change and--"
"Which is why I'm here."
Since he couldn't possibly mean the shower, she assumed he meant the meeting. She didn't question how he knew about it. Somehow, someway, her father knew about everything that went on within the Austin area.
She waited. There was no point in asking him what he meant. He'd come to her, and she knew damn well he wouldn't leave until saying his piece.
"I don't want you doing that show."
"Color me shocked."
"Don't be impertinent, young lady. You dodged a bullet when you left that hoodlum."
"Left him?"
"That is not a world you need to get drawn back into. He's knee deep in fraud allegations and tax evasion charges. I don't know the details yet, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if it ties into money laundering and a RICO conspiracy. Undoubtedly something the Crimson Eights are behind. Trust me, baby girl. Blood will tell. And that boy's blood is not something you want your name associated with. And you know damn well that if you do this show, the two of you will be splashed all over social media. Your past, Brooke. And your present. You do not want or need to be in with that boy like that."
Her throat tightened, not with concern about herself, but with fear for Spencer. She knew damn well he'd made some mistakes in his past, but he wasn't the kind of man who'd cheat on his taxes or launder money. And he sure as hell wouldn't get back in with a gang he'd spent the better part of his life avoiding.
Then again, you'd never have expected him to condition the show on sex. People change.
Maybe they did, but she didn't want to believe it.
Fuck.
"How do you know all of this? Those are federal claims, and you're a state court judge."
"Do you think I don't keep my ear to the ground? Especially where the man my daughter once ran around with is concerned?"
Ran around with.
Not loved. Not almost married.
It was as if her actions had never counted at all.
And maybe they hadn't. Maybe for years she'd been at the receiving end of bullshit.