Changing the bad boy

Chapter 20

PRESTON POV:

After spending the entire weekend going through the absolute s**t show the Paramount project has become, me and my brothers agreed-after some extra encouragement from Andrew, in the form of alcohol-that,t we had enough information to fill our dad in on our discoveries. I would've preferred to wait until we had all the facts, but as Andrew pointed out, our dad is the CEO, and it is our job to keep him updated.

We decided to tell him after work. But agreed we needed to do it away from the office since we're not sure who we can trust. Hayes and Easton felt we should schedule the meeting at a restaurant, hoping things would be more civil because we were in public, while I argued for more privacy and suggested Andrews. Easton thought it was perfect, but Andrew balked at the idea. I'm pretty sure he was worried about his belongings. Dad has a temper, and it wouldn't be the first time he launched some irreplaceable item at a wall.

It ended up with Andrew asking Lydia and Alana to coordinate with our parents as we invited ourselves over for dinner. They did, and an early dinner was scheduled for Tuesday evening at our parent's house.

Mom was thrilled at having her four sons home for dinner on a weekday and didn't stop talking. She drilled us about work and women, of course, hoping we'd found someone to marry, while Dad was suspicious as hell. Once we finally told him the real reason for our visit and what was actually going on, he flew off the handle, just like we expected.

The salad bowl hit the wall followed by the gravy boat and he was about to hurl the wine decanter after them, when mom put her hand on his arm and begged him to stop.

After a few deep breaths, he calmed down enough to sit back down on the chair. He drained his full glass of wine in one go and reached for the decanter he'd been about to throw at the wall a minute earlier.

"Peter is fired as of tomorrow, and we're suing Demers," he demanded.

"Dad," Andrew said in that pacifying tone he most often uses to keep our father calm. "We're dealing with an actual crime here. Preston has proof, but there are more records to go through. We have to be patient."

"Patient?" He bellowed.

"They're stealing my money and you want me to sit down at let them? To watch them do it like some arsehole?"

Now it wasn't just his money -it was the businesses I was smart enough to not point that out.

"We can't jeopardize anything yet, Dad. Firing Peter at this time will make them suspicious," I said, trying to get him to calm down. But it didn't work and may have had the opposite effect. He just sneered at me as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed what I assumed was his attorney.

"Pierce," my mom tried without success.

"Stay out of it," he snapped.

She quieted immediately, like the good little wife he wanted her to be, and reached for her wineglass.

It was Andrew-like always -that finally got him calmed down enough to see reason. He stressed that unless we brought the police in on our findings, we'd probably see none of that money ever

again.

That argument had the desired effect. Dad liked his money. He put his phone away and calmed down enough to have a proper conversation, but it didn't stop him from lecturing us on accountability.

"I expected you to have better control over this, Preston," he said like it was only my fault that we're in the situation we are.

His blame games and guilt jabs don't hurt as much as they used to, but they still bother me.

And I recognize I should've kept a closer eye on the overcharges, but I wasn't the one who hired Peter or Demers and gave them free

rein. Dad did that.

I also wasn't the only one involved in the project.

Andrew glanced my way and, with a slight shake of the head, told me to stop whatever retort he assumed I had come. Truth is, I had none.

I was too tired to argue. Tired of our dad's bullshit, this nightmare of a project, the pressure of the upcoming ones, besides all the normal functions I have to oversee. It's f*****g exhausting. I'm working ten-plus hours a day just to keep up. And then I have to deal with Hanna calling me non-stop and Valerie choosing to ignore me.

So when my dad grabbed my arm and led me over to the door, away from my mom and my brothers, I didn't resist. He would've said what he needed to say either way.

"You need to get on top of this now, Preston." His cold blue eyes stared into mine as he hissed, "Do we need to reconsider whether you're actually qualified for this position? His grip tightened around my arm. "This is disgraceful. Total shite. How the f**k couldn't you miss this, Preston?"

Dad has always had the uncanny ability to make me feel completely worthless even when I know I'm not. And there's absolutely no sense in telling him off, or telling him he's wrong, other than to piss him off

and get on his bad side. So even though his words hurt, I just stood there and took it, knowing I'd only make things worse if I responded.

"I want this cleared up immediately," he continued."Starting tomorrow, you need..."

I stopped listening.

Dad was the one who wanted to hire Peter while the rest questioned his credentials because one of his supposed friends recommended him. That meant he shut his eyes to all the questionable stuff our background search had developed. Instead of pointing that out to good old Dad, I just stood there.

"Are you ready to leave, Pres?" Andrew called from the other side of the room, thankfully ending Dad's speech.

"Yes."

Dad let go of my arm and straightened up. But he couldn't resist one last jab."Remember what we talked about, Preston. Remember it well."

"Thank you for coming to dinner. I love having all my boys home at once," Mom said with a smile as she hugged us all, one after one. The complete opposite of our dad.

"Good night, mom. Thanks for dinner."

"Come back soon."

I'd just made it out onto the front stoop when the door slammed shut behind me so hard it made the windows rattle.

"f*****g hell," Easton grumbled. "What's his problem?"

"Are you alright?" Hayes asked me, knowing from experience what it feels like to be on the receiving end of Dad's fury.

"Yeah, sure."

"You know how he is,"

Andrew said and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze.

I nodded because I did know. We all did.

But knowing what he's like, and being subject to it are two different things.

To be around him is to be constantly anxious.

Worrying that you have to be on top of your game to make sure you don't drop the ball on anything.Stressing about how he will react if you do, and what the repercussion will be.

Not if, but what?

And since he threatened my job, I'm even edgier than normal.

When Friday comes along, I'm seriously frustrated. I've had back-to-back appointments both Wednesday and Thursday, and Dad is still in a mood. Add to that the standoffish and very businesslike interaction I've received from Valerie. I'm like a taut string about to snap.

аете оg кC the flirty woman I made out with on Saturday and teased about her ridiculous vibrator. She's ignoring every single one of my attempts to get her alone for a few minutes by pretending she doesn't notice.

Please, I know she does. I just don't understand why she acts like she doesn't all of a sudden.

And then, on top of that, I have to deal with Hanna. She has called my cell phone nonstop for over an hour.

I'm about to launch it out of my f*****g window.

"Hanna," I growl after I stab the green button on my phone. Enough is enough.

This needs to stop.

"Hello to you too, Preston,"

she purrs like nothing's wrong, and it's completely normal to call someone every five minutes for hours.

"What are you doing?" I demand.

"I'm getting ready to go out," she responds,like everything is completely fine. "I was hoping you'd meet me for lunch."

That was not what I was asking, and I try to tell her that, but she interrupts me.

"You're a tough man to get a hold of, Preston Cartwright."She giggles and continues in that sultry tone she must think works wonders in getting her what she wants."Meet me for lunch at ...."

That's not going to happen.

"I can't," I tell her.

"Sure you can. I already made reservations. We have a great table at Sierra right by the widow overlooking the water."

"No, Hanna."

"Preston, come on. It's just lunch. Just give me an hour."

I lean my head back against the headrest of my chair and hold back a groan. Why can't this girl get a hint?

"I don't have an hour,Hanna."

It goes quiet for a few of seconds and I wait for her to continue. It's not long before she's got herself together.

clears her voice and says,"Okay, but I need to see you."

"Why?"

"I need to talk to you about something. It's important."

I bang my head against the headrest of the office chair.This girl is as annoying as fire ants. Completely relentless. I don't have the time or the energy for her bullshit. Her needing to tell me something is most likely just another gossip story about one of the other hopeful socialites in this city.Or her attempt to get me back into her bed.

And I just don't care.

"I don't know how many times I have to say this,Hanna, but I don't. "

"Have time," she finishes for

me. "I heard you."

Well, f**k. That was easier than I expected.

"Okay, good."

"I still need to see you."

A loud groan escapes my lips. This girl is seriously annoying and not very good at taking hints.

"Pres..."

"I thought we were clear,"I say and push the palm of my hand into my eye socket."We agreed, Hanna. It was a onetime thing."

"That's what you keep saying," she responds coldly."And I hear you."

Great. Awesome. f*****g perfect. She get's it. We're finally getting somewhere.

"I still want to see you."

My shoulders deflate.I hang over the desk and suck in a deep breath. "You know I'm not looking for a relationship," I tell her.

"Yes, you've made that perfectly clear."

Her tone is completely opposite of what she's saying, and I recognize she's being sarcastic. There's clearly an issue somewhere. I just don't know whether it's a misunderstanding or something else, and I'm too tired to even attempt to figure it out.

"Forty-five minutes." she negotiates. "I just need to talk to you."

"No." I can't help it,but I laugh, bitterly. "If you hear me, and you know it was just a onetime f**k, then why the hell are you calling me non stop asking me to meet up with you?"

"Because we need to talk."

"Seriously, Hanna. Find someone else to bother.You're waisting both our tike."

She huffs. "It's not what you think."

"Then f*****g explain it to me."

"That's what I'm trying to do,Preston," she snaps, letting go of her cute, innocent tone.

"I want to meet up so we can have this discussion in person."

There's a knock on my door,but I ignore it and demand Hanna tell me what she has to say over the phone.

"I think it would be better to do it in person."

"What the f**k, Hanna?"I yell as my emotions take over. "If you got something to say, just f*****g say it."

"Fine," she snaps."I'm pregnant."