ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (7 page)

“Don’t.”

I tried to look him in the eyes. To my
surprise, there wasn’t any warmth there. He was staring quietly at me, his gaze
just slightly not meeting mine.

“Dalton, my
best friend
is rich. You don’t have to worry about money
becoming this big deal for me, or
anything like that. I just want to know.”

He sighed heavily. “It’s not the right time.”

“
It’s
not the right time
,” I echoed with disappointment. “That’s kind of a big
deal for me, though. You can’t just sit on that.”

Dalton laughed. “I knew I shouldn’t have
opened my mouth. The second I started talking about that, I knew it was a
mistake.”

“Look, if you don’t want to talk about it,
then that’s fine,” I hesitantly told him. “But… I don’t like the thought of you
hiding things from me, okay? If there’s something big there, I just want you to
feel like you can talk to me about it.”

“Okay,” Dalton muttered. “But not now.”

“Not now,” I repeated again, nodding. I
regretted bringing the topic up again, and I knew that I couldn’t let him leave
with that thought weighing heavily on his mind.

“Listen… we’re about done here, right? With
the homework?” I indicated our textbooks, and waited for him to nod. “Why don’t
we just curl up on the couch and watch some television for a little bit?”

“Television is pretty much all that you do,
isn’t it?” Dalton grinned. Before I could respond, he had closed his book and
was crossing over to the couch.

I followed after him; soon, I was comfortably
curled up beside his large, warm form. “Why don’t
you
choose?” I asked him. “Let’s see what you’re interested in…”

“Alright,” he grinned, reaching for the
remote. “My tastes are pretty eclectic, though. Kind of come with the territory
of swapping countries, jumping into the military, and already having a
rebellious streak straight up my
arse
beforehand…”

He cycled through some options, hovering over
a few documentaries and action series, before selecting a stand-up comedian I
hadn’t heard of.

“Oh, this is one of my favorite guys,” he
chuckled. “Hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy myself,” I grinned, and
we nestled up a little closer together. That’s how we spent the rest of the
evening – pressed against one another, his arm around my shoulder, and laughing
hysterically at a string of fantastic comedians… with some leftover takeout on
the coffee table.

As far as home dates go, it was pretty great.

Chapter 7

Clara and I were just falling into a routine
as a text out of the blue caught me by surprise. Even as I made eye contact
with my father, sitting halfway down the bar with a few empty stools
surrounding him, I couldn’t fathom why he’d contacted me.

> Need to talk. Drinks
tonight?

I brushed past a few bar patrons as I made my
way over. To my surprise, instead of being the life of the party, my father was
apparently deeply lost in thought. Taking my seat beside him, I reciprocated
his warmth as he firmly clasped his hand against my opposite shoulder blade.

“Thanks for joining me on such short notice,
son,” my father greeted me happily. He seemed to be glad to be free from
whatever thoughts were in his head. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Whiskey neat,” I answered.

“Alrighty then.” He clicked his fingers a few
times for the bartender, ordering me the drink. We sat in silence for a moment,
watching the man quickly pour my refreshment before sliding it to my hands.

“So, what’s gotten you rattled?” I asked
politely, preferring to get straight to the matter of things.

“Little blunt there, aren’t you?” He chuckled
mirthlessly. “Don’t you want to catch up a few minutes, first?”

“Dad, I just saw you maybe two weeks ago,” I
reasoned. “I figured that we were essentially past the
small talk
stage again…”

“Hogwash,” he replied in a half-mutter. “We
were visiting together for the first time, all of us as a family. It was
different.
This
is more about you and
I.”

“I was under the impression that you and I
were good,” I told him, sipping my drink. “Is there something new that I’m not
aware of?”

“No, no, everything’s fine between us,” my
father deflected calmly. “It’s just that… I wanted to know where you’re going
in life, now that you’re out of the Marines and you’re in school.”

“This is an odd time to ask that question.
I’ve been out for the entire summer, after all. Only been an hour’s drive
away.”

“I know, son,” he groaned, ignoring his beer
for the moment. “I’m sorry that I’ve been a bit distant, it’s just that I
haven’t seen much of you since your days in high school, and I’ve… forgotten,
maybe, how to be a better father to you.”

Oh, it’s this again.

“You’ve been a great father,” I told him. “I
know we didn’t see eye-to-eye all the time, but you did the best you could with
raising me. I know that you’re busy with work, and with your girlfriend. I’ve
been tied up too. I could have picked up the phone myself, so it’s not just
your fault.”

He looked like he wanted to say something,
but then didn’t. “I understand. I just… I still feel bad about things. I wish I
could have been better. That I could have given you more.”

“It’s not your fault,” I retorted.

“Yes, it is, son. I made a mistake. That
mistake cost me a great deal.”

“You
learned
from your mistake. It’s not your fault that the Carlyle Fortune was ripped
from your hands. I have
never
held
you responsible for that.”

“Right,” Father nodded, sipping from his beer
again. “Well, it’s just that…”

Things suddenly clicked.

“You want to know my plans for the future? Is
this because of the money?” I asked, trying to determine where he was going
with this. “Are you hard up for cash?”

“What? No, of course not!” He replied almost
indignantly. After a second, the anger calmed down out of his eyes – the last
vestiges of his former self, sometimes threatening to resurface out from his
calm and pleasant demeanor. “This has nothing to do with the money… for me.
I’ve made my own way, and I’m lucky that my career has paid as well as it has.”

“You were
robbed
of it,” I contested.

“Be that as it may… I want to know what your
designs for your inheritance are. As you’re aware, you’ll receive it on your 30
^th
birthday, assuming that you’ve fulfilled your grandparents’ criteria. You’re 26
years old now. What are you doing until then?”

I was taken slightly aback by the question,
but I drank from my glass and answered anyway.

“Seeing as I’ve done nothing to diminish the
family name, not that they’re
aware
of,
at any rate, I’m certain that I’ll be–”

“The whoring around?” He cut in,
questioningly. I knew that he meant it as an innocent question, and not an
insult.

“–Yes, they’re none the wiser. This leaves my
place of standing in society, and my higher education. It would appear that
things lined up properly. Eight years in the marines, a veteran of the Iraq
War, and now four years of college until I obtain my degree. All of that, just
in time to have my 30
^th
birthday and win my birthright – the
birthright that
should
have been
yours.”

“So that’s the plan, then? No surprises?”

I felt suddenly compelled to mention Clara,
but banished the thought.
Why on earth
would I do something as stupid as that?

“If there are any surprises, they’ll be as
much to you as they are to me,” I replied coolly, taking another sip of whiskey
before the ice began to melt in earnest. “Being preoccupied with these things
means that I wouldn’t have the time to get into
too
much trouble.”

“Wise choice,” he nodded approvingly. “What
are you pursing for your degree?”

“Haven’t quite decided,” I mused aloud. “I’d
like to say something practical, just in case I manage to piss off my
grandparents before the inheritance kicks in… but honestly, I’m thinking
something easy. I think I’ve got this in the bag.”

My father took a deep swig, watching me
carefully over the tip of his beer. “You realize, of course, that
dearest
Mum and Dad have incredibly high
standards... what makes you so sure?”

“Simple,” I shrugged. “The worst thing I’ve
done is fuck a lot of women, a detail that they won’t ever need to know.
They’ve already accepted my Marine career as meeting their needs. School is
literally all I have left to do… that, and bide my time.”

“And what will you do with all that money?”
He asked curiously, clicking his fingers to request another beer for himself.
“What happens when you earn your birthright?”

“I give you yours, and I travel the world.”

“No, son, my time’s passed,” he shook his
head. “That’s all yours. I have enough money to live happily. I can retire in
ten years and call that
that
until
the end of my days.”

“Yeah, but Dad… you shouldn’t have
had
to work,” I countered.

“Originally, no,” he conceded. “But I made
do. I made my own way in the world, without their support
or
their money.”

“And where has that gotten you?” I asked,
growing weary of his tone.

“
Happy
,”
he explained. “Once I understood the ramifications of losing the inheritance,
it was just William Carlyle versus the world. I made do. I survived. Nay, I
persevered.
And from that perseverance
came my life now, with this wonderful woman, a well-paying job, and a son who
has proven me proud.”

“I don’t think I understand where you’re
going with this,” I stated bluntly, taking another deep swig of the whiskey.

Father sighed tiredly. “You’ve always been so
focused on the
bloody
money. Every
major decision you’ve ever made has included your grandparents. Your entire
life since adolescence has been run by their expectations. Don’t you wish you
had freedom? Don’t you want to know who you are without that in your future?”

“I can have my freedom when it’s mine,” I
grumbled through gritted teeth. “When I can do whatever I want for the rest of
my life.”

“That’s not technically true,” he replied.

“Excuse me?”

My father paused, choosing his words carefully.
“You
realize
that there are
stipulations, right? Ways to lose access to the Carlyle Fortune?”

I didn’t know that, and my stunned expression
seemed to convey the point.

 
“What, did you really think that you
could play the game and just
wait out the
clock?”
He chuckled condescendingly, with a heavy shake of his head. “Don’t
be stupid, boy. The inheritance has passed down the family line for
generations. How, do you think, it has managed to keep itself together, instead
of being completely blown on the first gluttonous maniac to wield it?”

Anger started to boil up inside me.

Why am I hearing about this NOW?

Father watched my reaction for a few seconds
before he continued. “I’m not surprised that they didn’t explain that part to
you. If I’d known, I would have done so years ago… you can’t do
whatever you want
with the money. That’s
foolhardy, and it compromises the succession. You can only use so much of it a
year, and you have to inject some money back
into
it. That’s how they’ve held onto it all these years.”

“But what about their extravagant lifestyle?”

“
Extravagant
lifestyle?
” Dad laughed riotously. “You must not know your grandparents
well. They barely spend
any
of that
godforsaken money. They’re always obsessing over keeping their little dignified
nest egg safe – particularly your grandfather.”

“What about the house? The servants?” I
asked, thinking about the prized Carlyle Manor, high in the hills.

“The house is part of the inheritance, and
the servants are paid out of the interest earned by the family investments,”
Dad shook his head. “I’m quite flabbergasted that you didn’t know all of this.”

“Your parents are somewhat lax on the
details, it would appear,” I bitterly remarked.

This wasn’t part of the plan.
I was supposed to just inherit a
vast sum of money and cruise on it for the rest of my days. I wished I had been
allowed to discuss it with my father – he might have
 
filled me in on some of the details if I
had bothered to ask. However, Raleigh Carlyle was
very specific
in that I should only talk to
them
if I wanted to know more… and I hadn’t wanted to come off as
too eager.

They didn’t exactly favor eagerness, when it
came to inheriting their wealth.

“There are responsibilities; inherit the
Carlyle Fortune, and you’ll find yourself caught between the binding chains of
succession. To fail to meet the ongoing criteria is to forfeit the fortune to
the next in succession – and to be legally barred from ever receiving any of
it, unless you want to risk
their
birthright
to it as well.”

“This is bullshit,” I grumbled furiously.

I’d planned for the contingency, but if what
he was telling me was true… then taking the money was to submit myself to a
lifelong screening beneath their standards.