More Than This (38 page)

Authors: Shannyn Schroeder

BOOK: More Than This

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No one could know about Malcolm and the secrets he brought.

“Thanks, but it doesn’t make me feel better. What’s been going on with you?”

Work. Always a safe topic. “Same old. Production’s flying on the new game to get it
out for the holidays. Gamers are already buzzing about it.”

“You don’t sound too excited about making another million.”

“I have some group bitching. It’s evil, bad for kids, too violent. Same old crap.”
But the noise could impact the new phase of the foundation.

Ryan laughed. “Whenever you want to give up the corporate life, I’ve got plenty of
work to do around here. Three more apartments after this one.”

“Have you and Quinn decided where you’re going to live?”

“We’ll stay at the loft for now. She wants to sell it. Indy thinks she should rent
it. It’s one of those places that’ll always retain value. Indy’s looking for houses
near Twilight.”

Thinking about Indy proved to be a better distraction than anything for getting his
father out of his head.

“I hear you’re finally looking for a house.”

“Yeah, but I’m not having any luck. The houses Indy’s showing me are . . .” He searched
for the right word. Pretentious? “Not right.”

He finished his beer and pushed to his feet. Feeling the chalky dust on his hands
gave him an idea about house hunting. He made a mental note to call Indy later. “Hey,
grab me some more screws, wouldya?”

Ryan kicked a box across the floor.

“Thanks,
Dad.
” He smirked at the thought of Ryan holding a screaming baby.

Ryan chucked a small piece of drywall and it bounced off Griffin’s shoulder. “Not
so loud. No one else knows. We’re not saying anything until after the wedding.”

Griffin snorted. “You don’t think Quinn’s already told Indy and Kate? Get real. I
don’t get the impression they have too many secrets.”

“Just keep your mouth shut.”

Griffin scanned his living room to make sure it held nothing of value his dear old
dad could pocket on his way in or out. Small things lay around, none important. His
dad couldn’t take anything from him now.

Ten years ago, he’d thought he’d hit the jackpot. His life was going exactly as planned.
He’d fought to be at the top of his field, one of the youngest to reach that kind
of success. He had Selena in his life; then his father reappeared.

Even then, he’d held no expectations about some great relationship, but he figured
he at least deserved some answers about why his father had left, to get his side.
If nothing else, he could rub his success in his father’s face. Show Malcolm that
he didn’t need him.

But he didn’t have much of a chance to do any of that. Malcolm had gotten the better
of him. He charmed his way into Griffin’s life, talking about how he’d wanted to get
in touch for years but didn’t know how. How he had felt ashamed to come back.

All part of his game.

Griffin swallowed the last of the whiskey in his glass. Having more than one before
facing Malcolm and things would get uglier than he could afford. The doorbell buzzed
at nine-thirty. Just like Malcolm—keep everyone waiting.

Griffin answered the door, and the shock at seeing his father registered in his brain.
It was like looking into a funhouse mirror that instantly aged him.

Malcolm looked good. Thinner than Griffin remembered, and grayer, but the charming
smile, so much like his own, was the same.

“Griffin.” He entered the room with his arms spread.

Here came the deplorable exaggeration of affection. Griffin stepped back to allow
Malcolm plenty of room and to make his feelings clear. “Malcolm.”

“I see you’re still doing well for yourself.”

Griffin closed the door, trying to hold back anger and resentment. He’d done well
despite his father’s absence. His mother had carried the load for both parents. He’d
promised himself he’d stay calm and get rid of Malcolm for good. A business transaction.
One last time.

He turned to the man who was the object of his disgust and watched Malcolm appraise
the room the same way he had ten years earlier. As far as Griffin knew, Malcolm hadn’t
come back to town since then. Every transaction since happened via phone and wire.

“I guess business is good, eh? I mean all the kids are playing some kind of game or
another, right?”

Griffin tucked his hands in his pockets and waited. Sometimes silence was his most
effective tool.

“What, you got nothing to say?” Malcolm crossed his arms.

“I’ve already asked what you wanted and I never received an answer. That would be
a good place to start.” They continued to stare across the room at each other.

Malcolm broke first. The man wasn’t much of a poker player or businessman. “I haven’t
seen you in ten years, unless you count what I read and see in the paper. I thought
maybe we could get to know each other.”

Griffin’s chuckle came out more as a growl. “Are you getting so old you can’t remember
which ploys you’ve already used? You tried that ten years ago. I guess you’re here
for your last check.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Mom’s dead. More than two years ago. Did you know?”

Malcolm shook his head. Griffin couldn’t read the expression in the older man’s eyes.

“That’s why this will be the last time you ever contact me. You have nothing else
over me. You can’t hurt her anymore. You don’t even deserve money now, but since you
had the balls to actually show so I could say this to your face, I’ll give you that.”
He crossed the room and opened a drawer to the side table. “How much this time? And
remember, it has to last.”

Now the wheels turned in his father’s head. The realization that he couldn’t get to
Griffin through loved ones ruined his plans. First Selena, then Mom. Griffin made
sure no one would ever get that close again. But Malcolm still knew about Selena,
and Griffin would do anything to save her parents any more pain. Add to that the damage
to his reputation, and paying his father was worth it.

“You drive a hard bargain. You’re a lot more like me than the way you look. Keep it
simple so no one can touch you. I tried to tell your mother that so many times. She
never understood.”

The pen in Griffin’s hand began to bend, so he released the grip. “Unless you want
to get tossed out on your ass without a check, I suggest you shut up and give me a
number.”

“Fifty thousand.” He smirked as if Griffin should be shocked by the number.

Hell, he’d expected twice that. “I’ll cut you a check for ten. I’ll wire the rest
when you leave town.”

Malcolm tilted his head, but then nodded. Griffin scribbled out the check and ripped
it from the book. Handing it to Malcolm, he said, “Now get out.”

With the check tucked safely into his pocket, Malcolm smiled broadly. “A pleasure
doing business with you. We’d make quite a team. If we were together, there wouldn’t
be a safe heart in all of Chicagoland.”

Griffin took one step forward and Malcolm jolted from his spot. He quickly left the
condo. Griffin returned to his bottle of whiskey and wondered how much he’d need to
make him forget where he came from.

Indy dragged her feet toward her apartment. The bar had been slammed with business.
The stack of singles shoved in her pocket made the sore feet and aching back worthwhile.
Even though she wanted that money to go straight into her vacation fund, she had a
feeling it would be poured into her car instead. The beast had begun making strange
noises. Again.

She stopped in front of her neighbor’s house, surprised to see Richard leaning against
her porch. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

At the sound of her voice, he looked up and his back stiffened. “You said you had
to work. I thought you were showing houses, not shaking your tits at a bunch of drunks.”

She so did not need this right now. She’d had enough of Richard’s jealousy. “I’m tired.
It’s been a long day.”

“We need to talk.”

She hated that sentence. Nothing good ever came from it. Already sore muscles clenched.

“About what?” she asked, trying to keep the irritation from her voice. She walked
up the steps and unlocked the door.

Without turning around, she knew that Richard scanned the street to check on his car.
He routinely made comments about the location of her apartment. She shook her head
and went in alone.

She kicked off her shoes and sank onto the couch. The cool leather stuck to her skin.
She closed her eyes and relished in the quiet. She heard Richard enter.

The familiar sound of crinkling cellophane had her gaze shooting up to his arms. He
carried a huge bouquet of roses. He only brought roses when they’d been fighting.
Usually because he tried to change her.

The thought came in a flash, but stuck.

Why was she still with him? Her sister, Quinn, and her best friend, Kate, had been
asking her that for months. She’d brushed the question aside, but now, as Richard
approached her with a serious expression, the question reverberated in her brain.

He sat beside her and laid the flowers on her lap. “You know I don’t like you working
at that place. I’ve offered to help.”

“I don’t want your money. I can pay my own way.”

He slid a small black velvet box onto the table. He flipped the lid and a huge, sparkly
diamond winked at her. She wanted to reach out and touch it, but shifted the flowers
from her lap to the table beside the ring. Her heart raced and her stomach roiled.
This was not going to end well.

Marriage had never entered even the remote recesses of her mind. Especially with Richard.
He was a guy with money looking for a break and she knew how to show him a good time.
Good times tended to end with commitment.

Someone always had to change.

“Marry me. You can quit that crappy job and leave this place.” He handed her a key.

“What’s this?”

“The divorce is done. I got the house.”

He took the house from his ex-wife and kids? “What about your kids?”

“What about them? They’ve moved to a new house. We can start our own family together.”

The snort burst from her before she thought. “I told you a long time ago. I’m not
looking for marriage. I’m not marriage material.”

“Everyone is marriage material when it’s the right person. You wouldn’t have to work
anymore. You can stay home and take care of the baby.” He leaned back and crossed
his legs as if this was a done deal.

“Baby?” She laughed, and he jerked back. Startling him hadn’t been her intention,
but the man was clueless. “What’s next? Dinner on the table every night at six?”

“That would be nice. That’s one thing I do miss from my marriage to Marion.”

Yeah, that’s what every woman wanted during a proposal—to be compared to the ex-wife.
“I can’t do this, Richard.”

“Do what?” He scooted forward on the couch.

“Marry you. I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t get me.”

“I get you, Indy. I love you.” He grabbed her hand and held it to his chest.

She tugged free and tried not to laugh. “You love the idea of me, but not me. Not
really. I’m the girl who leaves tawdry messages for you in the middle of the day.
The girl who loves the ceramic cows in her kitchen. The girl who strips her pantyhose
off in the middle of the street.”

“Why would you do that?”

The question said it all. He would never understand her. He didn’t know how.

“Because I can. I’m not the right girl for you because you can’t imagine doing something
ridiculous or silly.”

“Don’t do this.”

“You need to move on, Richard. I was a nice distraction during your divorce, but now
that it’s over, you need to look for whatever will make you happy.” She handed him
the key and the ring. That part was hard. The price on the ring would pay her rent
for months. She moved away from the couch.

“You make me happy.”

“But I won’t for long.” She crossed her arms. “I can’t give you what you’re looking
for.”

Backing away from her, his hands balled into fists. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

“No.” Priceless. So much for being nice and letting him down easy. Her phone rang.
She pulled it from her pocket. Griffin. “I need to take this.”

She turned away from Richard, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. “Hello.”

“Hey. Sorry to call so late. I planned to leave a message.”

His rough voice massaged her irritated nerves.

“It’s fine. I just got home. What did you need?”