Fat Cat Liar

Silence hangs between us, and I feel as if I should speak, but he beats me to it.

“I let her down. I let my baby girl down. All her life, I’ve protected her. She and her late mother are everything to me. Years ago, she wanted to start her business and came to me. So magnificent, so gifted, so full of potential… I wanted to insist she use her talents to work for me, help create and construct environmentally responsible buildings all over the world. She didn’t want that. She wanted to use her creativity in a more emotionally fulfilling way. What could I say to that? How could I tell the most brilliant person I knew she couldn’t follow her dreams? The answer was simple. I couldn’t.

“God knew what he was doing when he gave me Greer, and I couldn’t be prouder. But I always thought I’d pass down the reigns of my company to my child. I shared that with her, and we struck a deal. She would be my silent partner whenever needed. She and her friends have become a secret weapon over the years.”

He waves his empty glass at me, and I quickly grab the bottle to refill it. He sips this time, licking his lips and taking the time to savor the rich flavors, then continues.

“As hard as I tried, I was never able to completely let go of my shield of protection. That’s how I knew about you. Even before she told me, I knew about you.”

“You did?”

“Not everything. I knew she’d met someone.”

“How’d you—”

“Stan,” he answers before I can finish my question.

“Stan the security guard?”

“Stan works for me. His job description is broad, including posing as a security guard at Blakely’s. I have a deal with the Blakely family. They know he’s there, watching out for her. When she works late, he walks her to her car or the God forsaken subway. When she goes in early, he’s there in the control room making sure she gets into her office okay. It’s random, based on her schedule, but he happened to be there the day you showed in August to surprise her. He called me immediately. It went against everything I believe in, but I told him not to approach. Told him I had to see how this played out. I must say, I thought you had potential after the Grayson Lynch thing.”

“Does Greer know?”

His silence is my answer.

“You’ve known about me all along?”

“No, that’s where I failed her. I refused to investigate you. I promised my late wife I wouldn’t suffocate Greer. So, I held steady and waited. It was hard as hell, but when the crew spent the weekend with me and I heard all about you, I had mixed emotions. I actually felt sorry for you. That’s why I encouraged her to talk to you and open up. Stan was in the control room the morning you met her at her office door. I knew then it was serious.”

“It is serious,” I correct him.

“Pardon?”

“You said it was serious. I’m telling you it still is. I’m not giving up on us.”

He arches an eyebrow, his lips twitching. “I find your arrogance amusing. You have some balls, Lawson, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s not arrogance. I love Greer, and I’ll do anything in my power on this earth to prove that to her. Nothing else matters.”

“You don’t deserve the air she breathes.”

I stand a little straighter, squaring my shoulders, and try to tamper down the irritation brewing inside. “If you’ve come here to tell me to back off, you’ve wasted a trip. She is everything to me, especially now that—” I stop myself from blurting out my suspicions of her pregnancy.

“Especially now what? Now that she’s pregnant with your child?”

He states it with such absolute certainty; it’s a confirmation. My firm stance wavers and I stumble back. “You know?”

“It’s the worst kept secret she’s tried to pull off. My daughter thinks she’s sly. She showed up at my penthouse, spouting some bullshit about needing to get away because you two had broken up. That’s all she said, trying to gloss over the details. She tried to hide her hurt, going on with her life. But every night I could hear her cries through her bedroom door. As you can imagine, my restraint shattered. That’s when I had Stan pull everything on you he could find. I’ve got to say, you’re a very lucky man.”

“Not sure I’m feeling too lucky.”

“No?” His eyes darken, his expression growing deadly serious. “I wanted to kill you, and I don’t mean metaphorically. I’m referring to a rage that runs so deep, even murder may not be enough. It crossed my mind more than once.”

The words hang in the space between us, him sipping his drink with eyes trained on me. “Obviously, I didn’t follow through. Although, I will say it gave me immense pleasure to see the damage Stan inflicted during your little scene. How’s the rib healing?”

A phantom pain stings my side, and I instinctively rub my healing rib. “Fine.”

“Shame.” He chuckles.