Chapter 26: Liars Like Us: Chapter 26

Taking me by the hand, Callum leads me into a quiet salon off the main living room, points at a seating area near an unlit fireplace, and orders me to sit. I bite back a smart remark about manners and watch him walk stiffly from the room, then wait in growing anxiety as the minutes tick by.

My mind swirls with questions. I mull over Cole’s reaction to finding out about me and wonder if his father’s will be the same.

Or worse.

Why is it such a big deal, anyway? Isn’t this exactly what he was supposed to do? Find a wife?

Finally, his expression dark and his shoulders tense, Callum returns with his father.

He looks the same as in his pictures. Important is the word that comes to mind.

He’s dressed in a double-breasted pinstripe suit. His watch is so big and gold, it could double as a choker. His dark hair is graying at the temples. His eyes are sharp and his bearing is regal, and I’m expecting him to launch into an interrogation about my relationship with his son that will leave me wilted and shame-filled, nursing my battered ego for weeks.

Remembering what Callum told me about how fanatically he holds grudges, I want to shrink into the sofa and disappear.

Which is why it’s such a surprise when he strides towards me with his hands outstretched, breaking into a warm smile.

“Hello. I’m Konrad, Callum’s father.”

Feeling off-balance, I stand and take his outstretched hand. “Hi,” I say shyly, glancing at Callum glowering at us in the background like a prison guard. “I’m Emery. It’s nice to meet you.”

Clasping my hand in both of his, he says enthusiastically, “Oh, my dear, the pleasure is all mine. I honestly never thought this day would come. When Cole called me to tell me the news this afternoon, I was overjoyed. I’m so, so happy to meet you. Welcome to the family.”

Okay, this is weird. This guy doesn’t seem at all like Callum made him out to be. I was expecting Genghis Khan, not Mr. Rogers.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“I’m sorry to say that I haven’t heard anything about you, because my son would rather have his fingernails pulled off with pliers than discuss his personal life with his parents.”

Visibly agitated, Callum warns, “Dad.”

Konrad waves him off as if swatting away a fly. “Let’s sit, shall we, dear?”

Still clasping my hand, he draws me down next to him on the sofa, then takes me in from head to toe. He sighs.

“Just lovely. Although I must admit, I’m surprised you’re brunette. He’s always had a preference for blondes. The more dimwitted, the better. He once brought a young woman home to dinner who was such an airhead, his mother and I expected her to float up to the ceiling and bob there like a helium-filled balloon.”

Unsure of how to respond to that, I say, “Um…thank you?”

Callum looks as if his head is about to explode. “That was fifteen years ago. I was in college.”

“Yes, and the last time you brought home a date.”

His tone dripping acid, Callum mutters, “Can’t imagine why.”

Arlo enters and gives the elder McCord a small, respectful bow. “Would anyone care for a drink?”

Callum snaps, “No. My wife and I were just about to go to bed.”

Konrad looks at him as if he’s lost his marbles. “Bed? It’s not even seven o’clock. Don’t be ridiculous.” Dismissing him, he turns back to me and smiles. “I’m sorry to barge in on you unannounced like this, but I knew if I told Callum I was coming, he’d turn off all the lights and pretend he wasn’t home.”

“Dad,” Callum warns again, a vein in his temple popping.

His father ignores him. “I’ll take a Grey Goose martini, Arlo. Thank you. What will you have, Emery?”

“That sounds great, thanks.”

“Two Goose martinis, then.” He shoots a glance at Callum, standing there looking like the poster child for repressed rage, and adds sourly, “And perhaps an enema for my son.”

I think I love this man.

Completely charmed by him, I say, “I really appreciate you being so welcoming. I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

Konrad chuckles. “I’m sure my boy has told you some awful anecdote or other about me, but I can assure you, dear, I’m harmless.”

“As a rattlesnake.”

I’m shocked by the venom in Callum’s tone, but Konrad acts as if he didn’t hear it. He says, “So tell me, Emery. How did you two meet?”

Before I can even part my lips, Callum interjects, “At her book store.”

Konrad looks interested. “You work at a book store?”

“I own it.”

“An entrepreneur! How marvelous!” he cries, sounding as if I just told him I invented a cure for cancer.

His enthusiasm makes me feel bashful. “Well, I didn’t start it. My parents did, back in the eighties. I’ve been running it since my dad passed.”

Konrad is even more thrilled by this news. He glances at Callum. “She runs the family business,” he says, sounding awed. “Just like you!”

It’s a wonder Callum’s molars haven’t yet been ground to dust.

Konrad turns back to me. “I’m sorry to hear your father’s gone. Your mother is still with us, I hope?”

“No. She died twenty years ago.”

“Oh no. Have you any siblings?”

“I’m an only child.”

Distressed, he looks at Callum accusingly. “And you didn’t immediately introduce her to your brothers?”

When seething silence is his only response, Konrad says sternly, “This poor girl doesn’t have a family, son. She’s an orphan. It’s unconscionable that you’ve kept her to yourself.”

Normally I would take offense at someone acting like I’m Little Orphan Annie, but this whole exchange is ruffling Callum’s feather’s so much, I can’t. I laugh instead.

“Don’t worry, Mr. McCord. I’m good. But thank you for that. And I can’t wait to meet the rest of the family.”

“Please, call me Konrad,” he says warmly.

When we smile at each other, Callum snaps, “You haven’t asked anyone to call you by your first name in the entire time I’ve been alive.”

“I’ve never had a daughter-in-law before,” he answers smoothly. Addressing me again, he says, “All my boys are bachelors, much to my dismay. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times, a man is nothing without the support of a good woman. We’d still be hunting with spears in the jungle if it wasn’t for the fairer sex. We’re basically wild animals who need to be tamed.”

He’s got some interesting ideas about masculinity, but now isn’t the time to debate it.

Arlo returns with our drinks and a whiskey for Callum that he didn’t ask for but obviously needs. After he distributes them and leaves, Konrad raises his glass to me.

“To my lovely new daughter-in-law. Thank you for marrying my son. And good luck.” He chuckles, then takes a big swig of his martini.

Not the wedding toast I would have expected, but then again, what I’ve seen so far of these billionaires makes me think they’re all a little nuts.

We spend another twenty minutes or so chatting and getting to know each other before Callum’s patience finally expires and he declares, “That’s enough for tonight.”

In the middle of a sentence, Konrad looks at Callum, then back at me.

“I’m afraid the clock has struck midnight, my dear. Time for me to turn into a pumpkin. But promise me you’ll convince Callum to come to dinner with us sometime soon. My wife is as eager to meet you as I was, but unfortunately she’s visiting her sister in Martha’s Vineyard this week.”

I smile at him. “I can’t promise I’ll get him to go, but I’ll definitely be there.”

“You’re not going anywhere without me!” Callum barks.

Konrad shakes his head in amusement. “You see? Wild animals.”

He rises, as do I. He clasps my hands again, holding them for a moment while gazing into my eyes, then he releases me and turns away.

“I’d like a word before I go,” he says to Callum in a low voice, then walks out of the room.

I look at Callum with lifted brows. He growls, “Go upstairs and get ready for bed.”

He turns on his heel and stalks out.

The man never learns.

I swallow the dregs of my martini, set the glass on the coffee table, then tiptoe after Callum and his father, stopping at the doorway to cock an ear.

Hearing the faint sound of voices coming from the direction of the front entry, I slip off my shoes and walk barefoot down the corridor, hiding around the corner when I get near. Leaning closer, I listen.

“Does she know?”

“No.”

The first voice was Konrad’s, the second, Callum’s. I wonder what it is I don’t know, but they’re still talking.

“Are you planning on telling her?”

“No.”

“You should.”

“Why?”

Konrad’s laugh is soft and disbelieving. “You have to ask?”

“She’s not in any danger. I’m going to keep it that way.”

“Son. You can’t control everything.”

“The hell I can’t.”

“That’s reckless, and you know it. You can’t always be around.”

“I can’t, but someone can.”

There’s a tense pause, then Konrad says, “You can’t trust him.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“That man is—”

“I know what he is,” Callum interrupts, his voice hard. “But I don’t have a choice. You made sure of that when you got us into this mess.”

“It isn’t a mess. What we’re doing is important. It’s necessary.”

“You can lay off the propaganda. I’ve heard it a million times, and I still don’t buy it.”

Konrad’s voice grows impatient. “This family is in a unique position. You know that. We control the media. Our kind of power is indispensable to the cause.”

A cell phone rings, interrupting them. The tune “London Bridge is Falling Down” plays, echoing eerily in the sudden silence.

“McCord,” says Callum, his tone brusque. There’s more silence for several moments, then he says, “I can’t leave again so soon.” After another pause, he speaks again, his tone lethal. “I just got fucking married.”

I stand there hidden behind the corner, craning my ears, my heart thumping like mad, until I hear Callum mutter a curse.

“Fine. But I need the usual.” Pause. Then: “I don’t give a shit if he’s on the moon, get him here or I’m not leaving.”

He must disconnect the call, because next I hear Konrad say, “You should tell her.”

“She dislikes me enough as it is.”

“That’s nonsense. She wouldn’t have married you if she disliked you.”

Callum’s laugh is low and dark. “She had incentive.”

Konrad scoffs. “Not everyone is as mercenary as you.”

“I have to go. This conversation is over.”

When I hear Callum’s footsteps approaching, I duck into another room and hide behind an overstuffed chair until the sound of his footsteps fades into the distance.

Then I rise, determined to discover what the hell is going on.

Callum McCord is hiding something from me.

And I’m going to find out what it is.