by Emily Bishop
Fiona hadn’t mentioned anything to me about his feelings about our relationship but I knew that she had spoken to him about it. I could tell from the way that she wasn’t so stressed anymore, and how her lips no longer pressed into a thin line every time I mentioned the company.
But it didn’t mean that Randy had fully forgiven me. Sins of the father and all.
The door swung open, and he hesitated, then stepped back to allow me inside. “Shane, what brings you here?”
He craned his neck, as though looking for Fiona behind me. “She’s not here. She doesn’t know that I am, either.”
“Ah.” He closed the door behind me and gave my hand a quick shake before leading me to the kitchen. “You’ve come to talk, man to man, then.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“I can respect that. I told you to call me Randy, son. Would you like a beer before we sit down?” He was a lot more relaxed than he had been the first time we met but there were still shadows in his eyes and a tightening around his jaw that wasn’t there when he was with Fiona.
I accepted the beer he held out and popped the top off, sinking into a stool at his kitchen counter that he gestured me toward.
Randy took a long sip of his beer, as if he was bracing himself, then sank onto his own stool. “I assume you’re here to talk to me about Fiona.”
“That would be a reasonable assumption but not directly. Not really. I’m here to talk to you about my father.”
Randy’s eyes widened in surprise, and he sucked in a pained breath. There it was, proof once again of how badly my father had hurt so many people.
Randy finally spoke, after draining half his bottle of beer. “We don’t have to talk about your daddy, Shane. You’re not him. I understand that now.”
“I’m not,” I agreed. “But I do carry his name, and I’d like for it not to carry the legacy of pain and anger the way that it does now.”
“Fair point,” Randy said, then nodded at me to continue.
I took Fiona’s earlier advice and started from the beginning. “When I was a kid, I looked up to my father as a boy does. Even though he was hardly ever around, I was proud to have him as my dad, and I defended his absence when it came between my childhood friends. My mother taught me to fish, as you know, and my friends’ fathers taught me how to play ball and all those other things.”
Randy was listening intently, his beer now forgotten. My mouth had gone dry, so I took a quick swig of mine before continuing.
“It wasn’t until I was older that I started hearing the stories. For a while, I refused to believe them but then they started coming more and more often. Slowly but surely, my friends started pulling away from me.”
Deep breath, Shane. It was a painful part of my past but I had to revisit it if I wanted Randy to understand who I was and how I had become that person.
“Eventually, I built a wall around myself and focused on learning everything I could about the business. My father hired a man, Bart, to groom me for the job I would someday take over from him. He didn’t even bother doing that himself.”
Shit, I hated sharing. But I pushed on. Randy was still listening, nodding occasionally, but he didn’t interrupt me. I had a feeling that sharing was something he was used to.
“Once I took over, Bart and I started discovering everything my father had done during his tenure. The dodgy procurement processes were only the tip of the iceberg. I’m not proud of the way I dealt with it for a while. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors of my playboy ways.”
Randy nodded.
“You need to know that I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve been trying to right my father’s wrongs for a long time but I’ve never felt it as personally as I have since meeting Fiona. That’s why I started the foundation. I don’t think I was fully alive before I met her. I want you to know that I love her. Deeply.” I held my breath as I waited for him to respond to my confession.
His eyes softened. “I know. It’s written all over your face.”
“You’re okay with that?” I asked disbelievingly.
“I am. You’re not like your father, contrary to what I might have believed the first time we met. I know you’ll be good for my daughter. She talks about you like you’re damn near a saint these days. She told me about how you saved her life out on the boat. For that, you’ll have my eternal gratitude.”
I didn’t have the first idea how to answer to that. My tongue was glued to the top of my mouth, so I took a deep drink from my bottle.
“I’m no saint.” It was the first thing that popped into my head.
Randy smirked. “I’ve no delusions that you are. No one is.”
His easy comment relaxed me some, reminding me of the actual reason for my visit, righting the wrongs the Perkins family had perpetrated against this man and his family. It didn’t hurt that I’d had the opportunity to explain myself to my girl’s father, either.
I cleared my throat and dug into my pocket, pulling out a check I’d written in the truck before I mustered the courage to knock on his door.
I stood, handing the check to Randy.
He accepted what he undoubtedly perceived as a piece of paper and then blanched when he unfolded it. For a second, I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack or something, and I panicked.
Then he straightened his shoulders and pushed the check toward me. “I can’t accept this.”
“I went through your contract with my father personally, and together with interest for late payment in terms of that very contract, you are owed a million dollars by Perkins Enterprises.” I had gone over every inch of the contract with a fine-toothed comb to find a way to give him more than that, but there was nothing, and I knew that he wouldn’t accept charity.
Randy gaped at me. “A million dollars? It’s too much.”
“It’s not, I assure you. It’s what you stood to make from your last contract with my father. Consider it a late payment. Please. You worked for that money, even if it was decades ago. It’s yours.” I wasn’t above begging if that was what it took.
Randy stood and walked over to me on legs that seemed wobbly. He crushed me into a hug. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”
I was unfamiliar with fatherly hugs, but I was pretty sure I was in the middle of one, and it was kind of awesome. I completely understood why Fiona and Drew spent so much time with him, and why they loved him so deeply.
“You got space for one more?” Drew’s voice sounded from the doorway behind me.
Randy laughed, releasing me. “Always.”
Drew patted him on the back. “You ready to go fishing, old man?”
“Who’s an old man?” Randy huffed, draining his beer.
“Yeah, yeah.” Drew bantered with Randy so comfortably, it was like they did it all the time. He turned to me. “So, what’re you doing here? Asking for Fiona’s hand in marriage already?”
What. The. Fuck?
Drew eyes crinkled, and he doubled over with laughter at the expression on my face. He was wiping tears from his eyes when he straightened up. “I’m messing with you, man. Relax.”
So, I did. Drew was like a brother to Fiona, and if I wanted our relationship to last, I was going to have to forge a relationship with him, too.
“What if that’s exactly why I’m here?” I asked.
Drew stopped laughing abruptly. And now it was his turn to look shaken.
Randy chuckled. “Enough, boys. Shane here came over to straighten up a few things.”
Drew let out a low whistle. “Your balls must be the size of cantaloupes. I’ll have to remember to ask Fiona—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Randy warned, his good-natured grin fading fast.
“That’s my cue, I think,” I said. “Is your shift over?”
“Yup,” Drew answered. “Before you ask the next question, Fiona’s isn’t yet.”
“Gotcha, thanks. Bye, Drew.”
“Cheers, dude,” he called.
Ran
dy walked me out, pausing when we reached my truck. “Be good to her, okay?”
“I give you my word that I will. I love her unconditionally.”
I said my goodbyes, finally feeling like I was onto something in life.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fiona
My dad called me later that day, and what he told me knocked my socks off. Shane had managed to do it again.
Instead of going fishing with Drew as they had planned, he stayed at home so that he could fill me in on his afternoon once I got off work.
It had been my turn to lock up the store, so I got home a bit later than usual. My landline was ringing off the hook as I stepped inside. Since my father was the only one who ever called me on it, I rushed for the phone, immediately worried because him calling it meant he hadn’t gone fishing, an activity that he didn’t miss for much.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, snatching the phone from its cradle.
“Hi, honey.” His voice sounded funny, emotional.
“What happened?” My breath caught. “Is Drew okay?”
My dad chuckled. “He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”
“What is it, then?” I knew that something was up. I hadn’t heard my dad sound emotional in a long time.
“Shane came by.” I could hear Drew making kissing noises in the background and rolled my eyes, even as a small smile played on my lips. “Shane came by?” That didn’t seem right. Why would he go see my dad without me?
“Yeah, we talked. He let me in on a little about his childhood. I think he was trying to prove to me that he wasn’t like his father by providing some context about why that was.”
I trusted my father’s instincts, and it sounded like something that Shane would do, though I still had no idea why.
“What did he say?” I was curious. Shane didn’t like talking about himself.
“I’ll let him tell you the stuff about his childhood. I think that’s his place. It’s safe to say that he’s nothing like his father. In fact, I got the distinct impression that he was ashamed and maybe even disgusted by the man.”
I wouldn’t blame him.
“So, you like him now?” Something was still strange in my father’s voice.
“I do, not because of the money but because—”
“Wait, what money?” My heart beat sped up.
“Hold your horses, I’m going to tell you about that in a minute. I wanted to tell you that he’s a good man. He’s been through a lot, and he’s come out the other end of it respectable. Resilient.”
“I know that,” I said, growing impatient. “I’m glad you feel that way but why are you talking about money?”
My stomach sank. My father couldn’t possibly believe that I loved Shane for his money. It made me sick to think that he was lecturing me about what a good man was, aside from his money. I didn’t care about the damn money. I didn’t even know about it when I agreed to go out with him.
I was damn near frantic before my dad spoke again. “Whatever’s going on in your head right now, stop it this instant.”
“Okay but then you have to tell me.” I hadn’t even realized that I’d started pacing. I stopped.
“I’m trying to, baby. He explained all the stuff about his childhood, then he told me that he’s been trying to right his father’s wrongs since he took over.” My father’s voice became thick with emotion. “He said he personally went over the contract that I used to have with Perkins.”
What? “He did?”
“He did. Then he gave me a check for all the money that I stood to make back then, together with interest for late payment.”
Oh, Shane.
“Did you take it?” I asked quietly.
My father was a proud man but I knew that he could use the money. And Perkins did technically owe him. My father would be able to pay off years of debt.
“I tried not to.” He sighed. “I gave the check back to him but he wouldn’t take it.”
My heart swelled. As my dad had said, it wasn’t about the money. It was all about Shane and the type of man he was. I knew I’d made the right decision when I told him that I loved him.
“Of course, he didn’t,” I said. “What did he say?” I wasn’t interested in knowing how much money it was.
“He said that I had worked for it, even if it was years ago and that I deserved it.” Tears swam in my eyes, blurring my vision in the best way possible.
“You did, and you do, Daddy,” I said, barely squeezing the words out past the lump of emotion that lodged in my throat.
“He loves you, kiddo,” Dad told me. My heart soared.
“You were right about that, Dad. And I love him, too.”
“I’ll tell you exactly what I told him: I know,” my dad said, his tone warm. “I’m glad that you finally see it.”
“I think that I wanted to hate him because I was afraid of the fall, of what might happen if I actually loved someone.” It felt like a weight was lifted from my chest.
“I hear you, just promise me something?” he asked.
“Anything,” I breathed.
“Promise me that you’ll come visit often if you end up moving to Houston with him.” His voice sounded pained. “I got to admit, I don’t like the idea of you moving very much.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Dad. I’m staying right here. I promise. Shane’s moving to Mystic. His things are being packed as we speak.”
“That’s a relief. Do you think the move’s going to last? A company like his needs a hands-on man at the helm.” My father sounded skeptical, though I had to admit that I was worried about Shane’s staying power in Mystic, too.
“He says he’s made arrangements with someone in Houston that he trusts, and he’s going to try,” I said.
“Okay, well, in that case,” he continued his very dad-like lecture, “I just don’t want you moving in together until you’re married, then.”
I flushed at the fact that not living together hadn’t stopped us from doing any of the things my dad was worried about.
“We’re not talking about getting married, Daddy. It’s way too early for that. We only told each other that we loved each other today.” But I agreed to his stipulations. “If it will make you feel better, we won’t move in together unless, and if, we end up getting married.”
“It does make me feel better, actually. Thanks, honey. I have to go. Give my best to Shane.”
I agreed, even though it seemed silly since they’d seen each other just that afternoon. Then I hung up the phone.
I might have promised my dad that I wouldn’t move in with Shane but that didn’t mean I couldn’t go over there. All that I wanted was to wrap my arms around him and hold him close, and that was exactly what I was going to do. Then maybe we could do some of that stuff that I suddenly felt guilty about doing as an unmarried woman.
It finally started to drizzle outside, so I decided to take my rust bucket of a car to Shane’s. I pulled up in his monstrous driveway, and Shane ran outside with an umbrella and a surprised expression.
I didn’t wait for him to reach me before I bolted from my car and ran through the rain to get to him. A little water wasn’t going to melt me. I’d learned that much from growing up in Mystic. Shane opened his arms when I neared him, and I ran straight into them, breathing him in and loving that I could finally do whatever I felt like with him.
“What’re you doing here? You should’ve let me know that you were done. I would have come over, or come to get you. You didn’t need to go running around in the rain.” He spoke against my ear, holding me pressed against him.
“Rain never hurt anyone. I wanted to see you, and now that I can do that whenever I want, I plan on taking full advantage of it.”
Shane laughed. “You do that. I’ll be here.”
He released me and started leading me to the front door. I shrugged out of my wet coat and hung it up on a coat rack right by the door before I spoke again. “Will you, though?”
“What?” He frown
ed. “Be here?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice small.
I still couldn’t believe that he would move to Mystic once and for all to be with me. A part of me believed that maybe he was expecting that I would move back to Houston with him eventually, and I didn’t want that.
“For fuck’s sake, Fiona. I moved across the damn country for you. Of course I’ll be here.” His nostrils flared with irritation. It would’ve been kind of cute if the topic we were discussing wasn’t so serious to me.
“I know, and I’m sorry I keep harping on it. I’m just trying to make sense of why a man like you, who practically owns a city like Houston, would move to a place like Mystic for a girl like me.” I threw my hands up to illustrate my cluelessness.
Shane’s shoulders relaxed, as did the defensive stance he’d taken on. He walked over to me, tugging gently at my ponytail so I would look at him instead of stubbornly keeping my eyes down. I was afraid of what I might see if I looked into his eyes. I would be shattered if I saw so much as a hint of uncertainty in them.
When I finally did look at him, what I saw there took my breath away. His gaze was steadfast and unwavering, swimming with warmth and love and determination.
“I love you, Fiona. There is no ‘girl like you.’ Not for me. There is only you.” He planted a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth and laced his fingers with mine. “Come with me.”
He led me to an industrial-sized kitchen that looked like it had been decorated straight from an old ranch-style magazine, complete with hanging copper pots over the center island and a heavy wooden dining table.
I gawked. I had never seen anything like it in real life. Shane flashed me a sad smile. “My mom loved cooking here. Have a seat.”
He flicked on the kettle and dropped two tea bags into cups, fixing the tea before joining me at the table. He sat across from me and set both cups down on the table, then gathered both my hands in his.
“I think I should explain to you why I came to Mystic when I left Houston in the first place. I think that might set your mind at ease. You have to know that you are the only reason I came back but I’ve always loved Mystic.”