Page 41 of For One Night

I continue to creep through the traffic. “C’mon! I’m already late. He’s going to think I’m doing this on purpose., I yell as I bang my steering wheel after sitting in traffic for the last twenty minutes. “Today, of all days. It would have to be today.”

I sit upright on my seat when the line of cars begins to move. I have no control over my legs as one trots and the other waits to gun the pedal, so I can make up a little lost time. “Although, it’s not going to matter.”

I can see our building from the street I’m on as I’m stopped by another light. “For Christ sakes, I can’t catch a break!” I step on the gas as soon as I’m clear. I don’t have time to circle the block to our private parking.

I turn the corner in hopes of finding something in front, on the street. “Nothing.” Sweat begins to bead on my forehead.

“Fuck it!” I whip my Rapide S across two lanes and park on the sidewalk in front of the office doors. I jump out, jogging through them.

“Mr. Daly,” our security guard, Ed, greets me.

I toss him the keys as I hurry by. “Please, park it for me. I’m late!”

“No problem!” He waves as I hop on the first available ride.

My phone vibrates against my leg as I watch this damn thing take four hours to climb to the top of this place. As if on cue, the familiar sound of a text message comes right after.

“I’m coming!” I know I should answer him, but I like to catch all of the hell at once. My ride creeps to a stop as I rub my temples, waiting for the doors to open. I slide between them as soon as I can.

“Mr. Daly, they’re waiting.” Valarie, our receptionist smiles at me.

Wait. A silent bomb goes off in the back of my head, and I freeze in my tracks as I replay her words. I backstep to the desk, pausing. “Did you say ‘they’re’ waiting on me?”

“Yes, sir.” The crease in her forehead deepens, probably mirroring mine.

I pop my neck, straighten my shoulders, and pull the door wide. “Good morning, everyone. I apologize for being late.” I smile at everyone in the room before walking over to our mother.

“Hello, Lennox.” I lean in, kissing her cheek as she pats mine.

“It’s good to see you, Mathair.”

“You’re not going to explain why you’ve kept us waiting?” My father’s gruff voice emphasizes his tone.

I slip past my mother to offer him my hand. “I do apologize, but no, I’ll not be making any.”

He takes my hand, giving it a firm shake. Our father, Jacob James, has been having health issues the last few years. His appearance seems to beg to differ with our knowledge, but he’s definitely not well.

“It’s good to see you.” He pulls me down—first, to show me he still can and second, to show Lachlan he still can—and kisses my jaw. I return his gesture, earning me a firm pat on the back. “So good to see you, my boy.”

I rise, taking a seat near them with a smile. I think Lachlan knows I’m holding myself together. Our parents don’t travel stateside much anymore. My chest tightens as I glance at our father again, with full understanding as to why they don’t.

“Shall we get started?” Lachlan taps the table with his knuckles. “Lennox, many years ago, our parents wanted something very different for their company, and it involved both of us. As fate would have it, things didn’t go the way we wanted.”

Everyone in this room knows he’s treading lightly, and that it’s for my sake. I don’t need it. “I fully accept that I fu”—my eyes flicker to our parents—“messed up.”

“I’m not trying to place blame. I wanted to do something special for you, for this moment.” His wife, Maisyn, hands him a small bag. He, in turn, slides it across the table to me.

My eyes wander around the room as they all zero in on me. “What is it?”

“Open it and see, dork,” Lachlan mutters.

I stand, placing my hand inside the bag. Whatever it is, it’s long and cold. I wrinkle my nose. “Please don’t let this be a gag gift.”

“Seriously?” He tilts his head, cocking his brow.

I half shrug. “I never know with you.” I grasp the item, slowly pulling it out. The gold glints in the lights, helping the words to stand out. “A name plate.”

“For the door.” Maisyn smiles coyishly. I’m still coming to terms with how I treated her and Lachlan, but she, somehow, has forgiven me.