pompous, fat-cat fools who understood that the stock market went up and down as long as their own wealth wasn’t affected.
Dare propped his feet on his desk and leaned back in his chair. ‘I don’t care if he thinks we should dump the stock,’ he told his CFO over the phone. ‘I’m telling you to hold it. If he wants to question my judgment again he can take his business elsewhere.’
Clicking off the call, he thumbed through to the next issue he had to deal with.
‘Trouble?’
Dare glanced towards his office door to find his mother framed in it. She’d flown from North Carolina to London the previous night, stopping overnight at his before she headed to Southampton to visit an old friend.
Dare smiled and dropped his feet from his desk. ‘What are you doing up this early, Ma? You should still be asleep.’
His mother strolled into his office and perched on one of his sofas in the sitting area. ‘I needed to talk to you before I head off today.’
Dare glanced at his watch. Business always came first in Dare’s world, except when it came to his mother. ‘Of course, what’s up?’
If she wanted to borrow Mark, his driver, to take her to Southampton he’d already arranged it.
‘I received an email from my father a month ago.’
Dare frowned, not sure he’d heard her right. ‘Your father?’
‘I know.’ Her brow quirked. ‘It was a surprise to me too.’
Dare wasn’t sure what shocked him more, the fact that she’d received an email, or the fact that she’d taken so long to tell him about it. ‘What does he want?’
‘To see me.’
Her hands twisted together unconsciously in her lap and Dare’s gut tightened. When a man who had kicked his daughter out of her home for marrying someone he didn’t approve of contacted her thirty-three years later you could bet something was up. And Dare doubted it would be good.
‘Bully for him,’ he said without preamble.
‘He invited me up to the house for lunch.’
The house being Rothmeyer House, a large stone mansion set on one hundred and twenty-seven acres of lush English countryside.
Dare made a derogatory sound in the back of his throat. ‘Surely you’re not considering it,’ he dismissed. Because he couldn’t think why she would. After the way the old man had hurt her, it was the last thing he deserved. And the last thing his mother should risk.
Unfortunately he could already tell that she was not only considering the invitation, but that she wanted to go.
‘The man’s done nothing for you,’ he reminded her, ‘and now he wants to see you?’ Dare knew he sounded contemptuous on her behalf and he was. ‘He has an ulterior motive. You know that, right? He either needs money or he’s dying.’
‘Dare!’ his mother exclaimed. ‘I didn’t realise I’d raised such a cynic.’
‘Not a cynic, Ma, a realist.’ He softened his voice. ‘And I don’t want you getting your hopes up that he’s suddenly regretting his decision to cut you off all those years ago. Because if he’s not dying it will be some kind of power play, mark my words.’
Dare knew he sounded harsh but someone had to look out for his mother, and he’d been doing it for so long now it had become second nature.
‘He’s my father, Dare,’ she said softly. ‘And he’s reached out.’ Her hands lifted and then fell back into her lap. ‘I can’t explain it really but it just feels like something I should do.’
Dare was a man who dealt in facts, not feelings, and as far as he was concerned his grandfather, Benson Granger, Baron Rothmeyer, was offering far too little far too late.
His mother could have used his help years ago. She didn’t need him now.
‘He mentioned that he’s tried to find me before,’ she said.
‘He couldn’t have tried very hard. You didn’t exactly hide out.’
‘No, but I have a feeling your father might have had something to do with that.’
Dare’s eyes narrowed. He hated thinking about his father, let alone talking about him. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Once when you were young and I still believed in him he said he’d made sure my father would always understand what he’d lost. I didn’t think much of it at the time but now I wonder what prompted him to say that. And you know my father had no idea that you even existed until I mentioned it.’
‘Well, he’ll know I exist if you decide to take up his invitation because you won’t be going alone.’
‘So you think I should go?’
‘Hell no. I think you should delete the email and pretend you never received it.’
His mother sighed. ‘You’re one of his heirs, Dare.’
Dare scowled. ‘I don’t care about that. I have no interest in inheriting some old pile of rubble that probably costs more money to run than it’s worth.’
‘Rothmeyer House is very beautiful but... I can’t help but think I made a mistake keeping you away from him after your father died. He is your only remaining relative on my side of the family besides your uncle, and your cousin, Beckett.’
Dare rounded the desk and took his mother’s tightly clasped hands in his. ‘Look at me, Ma.’ He waited for her to raise her blue eyes to his. ‘You did the right thing. I don’t need him. I never did.’
‘He changed after my mother died,’ she said softly as if remembering something painful. ‘He was never the most demonstrative man, but he became almost reclusive. Distant with everyone.’
Dare raised a brow. ‘He sounds like a real gem.’
That brought a smile to his mother’s lips, softening the deep lines on either side of her mouth and making her look more like her relaxed self. At fifty-four she was still a strikingly attractive woman, and finally seemed to have embraced life again and shaken off the many tough years she’d had to endure.
Which was one of the reasons Dare resented this communication from her estranged father now. His mother was happy and didn’t need any reminders of the past; which was called the past for a reason.
‘And our estrangement wasn’t all his fault,’ she continued softly. ‘I was impetuous back then and...in the end he was right about your father and I was too proud to admit it.’
‘You can’t possibly blame yourself.’ Dare frowned.
‘No, I don’t, but...’ She looked up at him. ‘You know, it’s the strangest thing but right before he emailed me I started having dreams that I was back in the house. It’s almost like a premonition, don’t you think?’
Dare
