Page 94 of Devoured By You
“What?” I frowned at Renata, asking a question as if I hadn’t heard perfectly well what she’d said. “Why?”
An equally idiotic question. How the fuck would Renata know why my father had flown all the way from Seattle to Miami without telling me he’d planned to visit? I knew the answer to the last part. I’d have told him not to bother.
Renata sensibly ignored my query. “Shall I show him in?”
I could hardly refuse now, could I? Inclining my head, I leaned back in my office chair and folded my hands in my lap, the epitome of the calm and in-control son Dad had raised me to be. Inside was a different story. My stomach turned jittery, and prickles raced along the back of my neck, making the hairs stand on end.
Dad was here for one reason and one reason only: intervention. At least he hadn’t brought Mom. Against the two of them, I wouldn’t stand a chance. They were formidable and relentless when the situation called for it. A little like I used to be before all this had happened.
“Son.” Dad patted Renata on the shoulder, his way of dismissing her, and entered my office, closing the door behind him. “It’s good to see you.”
I swallowed past a lump in my throat, my emotions bubbling to the surface at the worry etched on Dad’s face.
“You, too, Dad.” I gestured to the seat opposite my desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
He arched an eyebrow. “It’s me, son. Your father. Not an associate you once shook hands with at a party you can’t remember attending.” He sat down and crossed his legs. “Your mother is worried about you. So am I. Your brothers, too. The whole family is concerned. Talk to me. Let me help you.”
The steel cage I’d locked around my heart split open as if Dad’s softly spoken words had melted it, leaving my heart exposed to emotions I didn’t want to face. The lump in my throat grew in size, cutting off air to my lungs.
“I’m fine.” I lied, my voice rasping. “Your concern is misplaced.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Son. Ever since your mother placed you in my arms thirty-one years ago, I’ve been the proudest father that ever lived. And I’m still that proud father. You and your brothers are my greatest achievements. Your mom and I raised three amazing children. So, please, don’t lie to me. Not to me, and not to yourself.”
The dam broke with such little effort that it took me by surprise. Tears spilled from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks in a torrent. If the rest of my family were here, Mom would smother me in a tight hug, Kadon would tease me mercilessly, and Nolen would pat me on the back hard enough to crack a bone. But Dad simply sat there, his only action to push a handkerchief across my desk. My dad was one of the few people left in the world who still used cotton handkerchiefs. The familiarity of it brought a faint smile to my lips.
I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. “Guess you don’t want this back?”
“Laundered, yes. Snot-filled? No.”
A quiet chuckle rumbled through my chest.
“Ready to talk now?” Dad pressed.
“No. But you’re not leaving until I do, are you?”
Dad merely jutted his chin and settled back into his seat. I held a breath in my lungs, giving me a few precious seconds to organize my thoughts. I started to talk, and once I did, I couldn’t stop. All my pre-sailing concerns came spilling out. The insignificant problems that grew in number, each one eating away at my confidence. The badge scanners going down a couple of days before departure, the security door left open, processes I’d designed that had allowed that technician to get a job on my ship. The guilt I felt for the lives lost, and the damage my failures had caused to the Kingcaid brand. By the time I finished, I could have happily slept for a week.
Dad didn’t interrupt me once, and even after I fell silent, he still kept quiet, stroking his chin in deep contemplation.
“How many ships have I overseen from concept to their maiden voyage?”
Where is he going with this? I counted them in my mind. “Nine.”
“And how many of those do you think went off without a hitch?”
Ah. That’s where he’s going. “I’d guess none.”
“Correct. So answer me this, son. Why do you think your project was supposed to go smoothly? What do you know that the rest of us don’t? Please, share your wisdom so I can share it with the rest of the board.” He accompanied his sarcasm with a crooked grin.
For the first time in what felt like months, I cracked up, barking a laugh. “Well, I am the genius of the family.”
His grin grew, reaching for his twinkling eyes. “It’s true. If only we were all such intellectual masters. Look, all jokes aside, things break on ships all the time. You know this. And a build like Serenity was always going to have more than her fair share of problems. But what happened that day was not your fault, and I won’t stand for you heaping the blame on your shoulders. You are not responsible for every tick and every cross. It’s physically impossible to be across the minutiae in a company the size of ours. That’s why we have teams.”
I opened my mouth to defend my stance. Teams, yes, but since I was the CEO, the buck stopped with me.
Dad got there first. “And don’t you dare say that since you’re the CEO, the buck stops with you like that means you’re supposed to be this perfect being who can somehow stop all mistakes or accidents before they’ve occurred.” He rose to his feet, planting his hands flat on my desk. “You. Were. Not. Responsible. Do you hear me, son? Because you’re not too old for a clip around the ear.”
“Jill said the same.”