The Billionaire's Pretend Girlf - Leslie North Page 0,36
what?”
“Grayson’s wedding.”
“Jesus. Isn’t the wedding tomorrow? Why are you up there today?” He asked it like it was the most preposterous idea in the world. His dad would probably have a coronary if he realized that Daniel had spent the majority of the week up here.
“Oh, just trying to help my friend celebrate the biggest moment of his life.” But he knew it was pointless to get into it with his dad. His father would never prioritize anything that wasn’t amassing wealth.
“You are leaving for two weeks on Tuesday. What the hell are you doing spending the weekend in Napa when you need that proposal ready by COB Monday?”
“I already told you, Dad—”
“No. Listen, I thought you had your head in the game on this one. What business advantage do you get by taking the weekend off?”
“I’m hardly taking the weekend off. I’m still working on that proposal—I’ll have it ready on time. And anyway, I’m closing out the bet with Grayson, remember?” Maybe that would get him off his back. As long as there was some possibility of winning something. Something to remind his dad that his time spent here was somehow worthwhile in his eyes.
His dad harrumphed. “And you’d better win.”
“I will.”
“In our family, we are winners.”
“I know it.”
There was a long, tense pause. Then finally, his father said, “I need to get back to work. We’ll talk more on Sunday.”
When the line went dad, he realized that had been his father’s concession: giving him an allowance of the actual wedding day to focus on the bet instead of business. Fully expecting him to resume his workload on Sunday.
But this was nothing new. Even though it still stung, still irritated, still got under his skin, Daniel had expected all of it. A long sigh rattled out of him as he tossed his phone onto the bed behind him. When he lifted his head, he noticed Jackie standing in the doorway of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her while she combed her hair.
The way she was looking at him told him she’d probably heard the majority of that conversation…if not all of it.
And that realization made a sick knot twist tight in his gut, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.
Jackie offered a plastic smile before breezing past him. “Who was that?”
“My dad. Complaining yet again that I’ve taken more than three hours to myself.” He sighed, easing back onto the bed. He missed his chance at a steamy shower with Jackie; hopefully she’d want a steamy night under the covers.
“He’s such a hard ass,” she commented, her voice muffled from inside the walk-in closet.
“That’s how he grew his business.” Daniel stared at the ceiling, unable to pinpoint what, exactly, was the source of the swirling discontent inside him. But damn, it was raging strong today. “That’s how he provided for his family.”
“You don’t seem particularly inspired by the hard-ass tactics,” she said, emerging in her trademarked booty shorts. But this time, she had an over-sized T-shirt on that hid her curves. She raked a hand through her hair as she came to the bed.
“Well, I’m not.”
“So why don’t you find something else to do with your life?”
Her question hung heavily in the air. He wasn’t sure how to respond: whether to brush it off immediately, or to actually consider such an outlandish suggestion.
“That’s not possible,” he finally said. Because it wasn’t. Not in this lifetime or the next. Daniel Trent was married to the family business. It’s what he’d been bred for. It’s what he wanted to do…in theory, at least.
Although more and more, he was hating everything about his job and the life it brought along with it.
“Why not?” Jackie’s questions were light and airy. She still hadn’t looked at him, which was a little disorienting. It was like he wasn’t even there, even though they were talking to each other.
“I have no idea what I’d do if I wasn’t in the family business. It’s the only thing I’m cut out for.” As the words passed his lips, he realized how pathetic they sounded. But they were true. Sort of.
“You’re only cut out for being bullied by your father into sacrificing every minute of your life in the name of profit?”
It sounded ridiculous when she said it, but she wasn’t wrong. “Basically, yes.”
She laughed bitterly, fluffing the pillow beneath her. She lay out on the bed, reaching for the remote control on the nightstand. “Well, I guess if that floats your boat.”
Her voice held a new edge.