The CEO's Dilemma ; Undeniable Passion

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The CEO's Dilemma ; Undeniable Passion Page 24

by Lindsay Evans


  “Go on,” her mother urged.

  “It’s okay,” her father said. “She’s not ready.”

  And with those words, he let her off the hook. She gave him a small smile and said simply, “Thank you. I do appreciate it.”

  Rita met her mother’s eyes then, and she could see the disappointment. But her mother needed to understand that she wasn’t just going to come here and pretend that everything was hunky-dory.

  “You know,” Aaliyah began, “why don’t we all head to the dining room? Dinner’s ready and we don’t want it to get cold.”

  “Yes, that sounds like a great idea,” Rita said. “I’m starving.”

  Thank God for Aaliyah. She was doing what she could to help relieve the tension. In fact, Rita was glad that Aaliyah was here. The one nonfamily member she didn’t know and could make a friendly connection with to get through the hours ahead.

  She got to her feet and sidled up beside Aaliyah. “Have you and Daniel been married long?” she asked as they walked toward the dining room.

  “We recently celebrated our two-year anniversary.” Aaliyah beamed. “And I just found out I’m pregnant.”

  “Really?” Rita said, her eyes growing wide.

  “Well, I didn’t just find out. But now that I’ve reached the three-month mark, we finally decided to tell people. We just told your parents.”

  Your parents... Hearing that didn’t sound right. She’d only ever had one parent, her mom.

  “That’s wonderful!” Rita said. “Congratulations.” She looked over at Daniel. “Congratulations on your pending fatherhood.”

  As she said the words, a lump lodged in her throat. Was everything she said going to remind her of her failed relationship with her own father? She certainly hoped that her brother would be a positive influence in his daughter’s or son’s life.

  They got to the dining room, and her father sat at the head of the table. Her mother took a seat to his right. Rita started for the seat beside her mother’s, but her mom quickly said, “Sweetheart, why not sit across from me. That way you’re close to your father.”

  Rita felt a flash of annoyance. Why was her mother acting as though she and her father had had a normal father-daughter relationship over the years and that she would just naturally feel close to him? Nothing could be further from the truth. Didn’t her mother realize that she needed to warm up to the man? She was here, wasn’t she? That in itself was an achievement. She wasn’t trying to make big leaps; she was making small steps.

  But because her mother was looking at her with such expectation, Rita did as she asked. She went to the seat opposite her mother. And then the situation got more awkward because her mother got up from the table and headed into the kitchen.

  Rita whipped her head around, suddenly frantic. She didn’t want to be with her father without her mother around. Both Rita’s mother and Aaliyah were gone now, no doubt to fetch the food. “Do you need any help?” Rita called out.

  “No,” her mother responded. “You stay with your father. You two have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Her father stretched his hand across the table and gave hers a gentle squeeze. Rita’s back stiffened. A second later, she pulled her hand free, reaching for the phone in her bag. “Excuse me, I need to respond to a couple of emails.”

  She pushed her chair back and stood, then wandered over to the window. She looked out at the front yard, with a large oak tree providing ample shade on this sunny day. Had her brothers run around that tree as children, chasing each other? Blowing bubbles? All the things she hadn’t?

  Rita wasn’t sure she could deal with this. She sent a text to Maeve.

  My mother is acting like everything is A-OK between me and my father! She’s forcing a connection between us as if there’s no tension at all. It’s driving me nuts!

  Her mother breezed into the dining room, carrying a platter of carved beef. Aaliyah quickly followed with some sort of macaroni salad. A bottle of wine was already on the table, as well as a pitcher of water. It was a picturesque scene meant for a family that knew each other well and loved each other.

  Rita felt like a stranger here.

  Her mother made one more trip to the kitchen, and Rita stayed on her phone, scrolling through messages she’d already read, pretending she was too busy to sit and entertain any conversation with her father. Brandon began to speak to their father about a fishing trip he’d recently been on. Rita was glad for that, because it took the pressure off her to engage in conversation with her father.

  Her mother re-entered the dining room with a platter of fried chicken. Aaliyah followed with roasted potatoes.

  Were they finished getting the food? Rita hoped so.

  “Everything smells delicious,” Daniel commented. “I must say, Lynn, Aaliyah has made a couple of your recipes and I’ve been blown away.”

  “Thank you, Daniel.” Her mother smiled in Daniel’s direction, then went to her seat, looking at Rita as she did. “Rita, if you’ll put your phone away.” Her mother gave her a pointed look, yet a kind one. A gentle reproach regarding the use of her phone. “Nothing is so important that it can’t wait a little bit.”

  Rita returned to the table and put the phone back in her bag. She looped the strap of her purse over the back of the chair.

  “Let’s say grace,” Lynn said. She placed both hands on the table, reaching for her fiancé’s on one side and Brandon’s on the other. Brandon took his brother’s hand on the other end of the table, and Daniel his wife’s. Aaliyah was sitting beside Rita and they too gripped hands. That left her father’s hand, as he was right beside her.

  She swallowed, then reached for his proffered hand. He gave it a squeeze. Rita didn’t look at him, just closed her eyes in preparation for the prayer.

  “Dear heavenly father,” Lynn began, “Thank you for family. Thank you for connections that never die. I’m grateful that we are all able to be here together at this point in our lives and that we can move forward with new bonds. Because family is the only thing that matters.” She paused. “Please bless this food before us and help it to nourish our bodies. I ask this in your holy name, Lord. Amen.”

  There was an echo of amens across the table, and everyone released hands. Rita caught her father’s glance at her through her peripheral vision, but she didn’t look at him. This whole scenario felt surreal.

  Her mother grinned. “Dig in.”

  Aaliyah reached for the rolls, then passed the basket to Rita. Rita took one and passed it to her father. He took the basket, and then everyone began to serve themselves from the array of food. It would certainly appear to be a happy scene if anyone were to look at them through the window. They would never know that Rita felt like an outcast.

  “Anyway, Dad,” Brandon began, “as I was saying, we should plan a trip to Key West for the next fishing trip. My friend down there says the marlin are to die for. Huge, delicious.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Lance said.

  “Have you ever gone fishing?” Brandon asked.

  Rita pointed to herself and said, “Me? No. Never.”

  “Well, maybe you can come down with us.”

  Rita’s eyes grew wide at Brandon’s suggestion. “You want me to go on a fishing trip with you?”

  “It’s a family tradition,” Brandon said.

  “Even if some of us never catch anything,” Daniel said, then laughed.

  “It’s about being out on the water, spending time together,” Brandon said. “If we catch something, that’s a bonus.”

  “You would say that,” Daniel teased.

  “It sounds like a guy’s trip,” Rita said.

  “It always has been,” Daniel said, “but you could certainly join us.”

  “Fishing is not really my thing,” she said. “You guys have been going for years, I take it.”

  “Dad took us out
on the water as small kids,” Brandon explained.

  “How old are you?” Rita asked. “What’s the age difference?”

  “Dirty thirty,” Brandon said. “I turned thirty in March.”

  “Same as me,” Rita said softly, her mind doing the math. She would turn thirty-one in November.

  “And I’m thirty-six,” Daniel said. “I was probably three or four when Dad first took me out to go fishing with him.”

  “Brandon and Daniel are right,” Lance said. “You should join us on a fishing trip one day.”

  “It’s your tradition,” Rita said. “I’d be out of place.”

  She didn’t quite meet her father’s eyes, but she felt his gaze on hers.

  “Rita, your father is extending an olive branch,” Lynn said.

  “And fishing isn’t my thing. Besides, a tradition is something people have been doing for a long time. I’m not part of any sort of tradition in this family.”

  “Rita, you know that’s not what I wanted,” Lance said.

  Rita chuckled mirthlessly. “Really? That’s not what you wanted?”

  “No. It wasn’t.”

  “Then how on earth did it happen? Did someone put a gun to your head and force you to not be in touch with me?” She met his gaze now, pointed. Accusatory. She waited for him to deny her assertion.

  “I’m not saying that,” her father began slowly. “But not everything is as easy as you might believe.”

  “It’s not easy to be a part of your child’s life?” Rita countered. “I know of people who’ve had secret lives, and they still managed to maintain some sort of relationship with their illegitimate offspring.”

  “Rita,” her mother said, her tone sharp now.

  “Mom, I’m here. As far as I’m concerned, that’s more than enough. You can’t expect me to sit here and listen while revisionist history is floated around this table. I was never part of his family because he didn’t want me to be part of his family. The idea of a trip somewhere for fishing or anything else for that matter is completely offensive.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” Brandon said. “I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Rita said. She was no longer hungry. This had been a mistake.

  “I’m sorry for what happened,” her father said. His tone was exasperated.

  “Are you? What took you so long to be sorry? Your wife’s death? If she were still alive, would I still be your dirty secret?”

  “Rita!”

  Rita ignored her mother. “Because you can’t expect me to sit here and believe that you wanted something with me all along when you never tried to make that happen before your wife died. And this nonsense about you always loving my mother...” Rita scoffed. “You may have brainwashed her, but you haven’t fooled me for a second.”

  “Rita, stop this right now,” Lynn demanded.

  Rita pushed her chair back and stood. “Oh, I’ll stop. Because I can’t stay and eat with you guys. This is...a farce. I’m leaving.”

  “Rita, you sit back down,” her mother said.

  Daniel got to his feet. “Hey, it’s all right. We understand your position.”

  “Do you?” Rita challenged. “Because the way I see it, how the heck can you? You had your father your entire life. You had him to teach you how to drive, to pick you up when you fell off a bike. To give you advice about dating. I had none of that. So what exactly do you understand?”

  “We missed out on having a sister,” Brandon said.

  At the simple words, a wave of emotion washed over Rita. She swayed and gripped the back of the chair so as not to fall.

  Then she steeled her back. She didn’t want to feel anything for these people. Nothing at all. Her mother was different, of course, but Rita was pretty unhappy with her at the moment.

  She turned on her heel.

  “Rita,” her father called out to her. There was a hitch in his voice, and she could hear the emotion. Again, she wished she didn’t care, but something about the sound of his voice got to her heart just a little.

  She stormed through the house toward the front door, not stopping. She pulled the door open and rushed outside, running down the slope toward her car. She nearly tripped, but caught herself and continued going.

  When she reached her vehicle, Rita looked back toward the house. Daniel and Aaliyah were standing on the porch, both looking disappointed as she got into her car to drive away.

  Well, Rita didn’t care.

  This had been a mistake. A big one.

  Chapter 8

  Rita drove back to her cottage, ran up the stairs to her unit, and the moment she was inside, she burst into tears. Her emotions ran hot through her. Anger, frustration, humiliation, regret.

  She knew that her mother would be mortally embarrassed, and she couldn’t blame her. But all that talk of family togetherness and traditions that didn’t apply to her had broken her heart. She didn’t want to hear about the father who was a great dad to his sons, taking them on fishing trips, while she’d had to grow up without a man in her life. She could have used a father during the very tough times, but he hadn’t been there.

  Oh, but he was sorry. Life was complicated. It wasn’t his fault.

  And now he’d decided that he wanted her and her mother in his life and that was that.

  No, he’d decided that he wanted her mother. She was just part of the package deal.

  Rita went to the sofa, where she curled up and cried until there were no more tears. Then she got to her feet and went to the fridge. She opened it, seeing the remnants of some pasta she’d made the night before, as well as bread, butter and salad. None of which looked even remotely appealing right now.

  She was hungry. She’d left the opportunity for a perfectly good meal and a full belly and now here she was.

  Alone.

  At least she had some wine.

  Just as she started to pour herself a glass, her cell phone rang. Rita assumed it was her mother, probably calling to give her heck. She didn’t even bother to go and retrieve it from her purse.

  But after a couple of minutes, she knew that she needed to talk to Maeve. So she went to the living room, sank onto the sofa and opened her purse. She pulled out her phone and called Maeve’s number.

  Maeve answered after two rings. “Dinner’s finished already?”

  “Everything is a disaster,” Rita wailed.

  “Oh, no! What happened?”

  “I tried to make nice, I really did. But it was such a scene of fakeness, I couldn’t handle it. My mother gave this grace about family and new bonds, and then one of my brothers invited me to go fishing with them sometime. Fishing! Of all things.”

  “Okay, calm down,” Maeve said. “Start from the beginning. Tell me everything that happened.”

  Rita took a deep breath, trying to force herself to be calm. She started to relate the story from the beginning. How she’d gone to the house with hopes of getting along, but ultimately couldn’t cope. How it had all gotten to her. Her father had acted almost like a victim in his own decision to not have her be a part of his life.

  “And then I just lost it,” Rita finished. “I told him everything I was feeling.”

  “Oh, Rita.”

  “No one held a gun to his head and forced him to stay out of my life. I told him that.”

  “How did your mother react?”

  “How do you think? She’s upset. I know she expected me to behave better, but... I don’t know, maybe the hurt child in me was bound to surface.”

  “I’m sorry, hon.”

  Rita sighed softly. “Thanks.”

  The doorbell rang. Rita looked up, alarmed. Was it her mother?

  “Someone’s at the door,” she said cautiously.

  “You think it’s your mom?”

  Rita got to her feet
. “I’m not sure.” She started toward the door. “But I’m going to find out.”

  When she got to the door, she peered through the peephole. She was shocked to see Keith.

  And then suddenly relief washed over her. Oh, how she was glad to see him.

  “It’s Keith,” Rita explained.

  “Keith?” Maeve asked. “You mean the realtor?”

  “Let me call you back.”

  Rita didn’t wait for Maeve to respond, she just ended the call.

  Rita opened the door, a smile forming on her lips. “Keith.” She sounded a little breathless. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just had the urge to check on you. Make sure you were okay.” His eyes narrowed with concern. “And I think I was right, because it looks like you’ve been crying.”

  Rita nodded, and then she stepped forward and threw her arms around Keith. She began to cry again, and she wasn’t sure why. It felt good to have someone to hold as she let out her frustration, grief and sadness.

  Keith cradled her head as she cried. After a moment, he moved with her into the apartment and closed the door. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “I went to my father’s place for dinner. I just couldn’t do it. All my family was there, so happy. As if all the years that my father wasn’t in my life didn’t matter.”

  Rita was tired of crying over this. She was angry at herself for caring. She eased back and wiped her eyes, then she looked up at Keith. At his handsome face, those broad shoulders. She breathed in the scent of his musky cologne.

  And then she slipped her arms around his neck. “I don’t want to think about my father anymore.”

  Her voice was low, husky.

  Keith’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

  “What we both want,” she said. She wasn’t sure who she was. She didn’t recognize this behavior. She wasn’t a seductress. And yet she couldn’t stop herself. She needed this. She needed a distraction.

 

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