Sugar Daddies (45 page)

“You didn’t fuck things up for your mum,” Rick said. “And it would be different. There’s three of us. Mum, Daddy Rick and Daddy Carl.”

“Stop it with the
Daddy Carl
thing,” Carl said. “You’re enjoying that too much, Richard, don’t think I can’t fucking hear it in your tone.”

“And what if Mum, Daddy Rick and Daddy Carl didn’t work out? What if Mum ended up stuck with all the kids while the Daddies only popped in at weekends? What about Mum’s riding and Samson and stable dreams?”

“It
would
work out,” Carl said, and his eyes burned. “We’d make it work out. We’d never walk away from our kids. Never, Katie, not ever. Not in a million years.”

I sighed. “Then you’d be a better
dad
than I’ve ever seen.”

They didn’t speak, and I knew. Yet again the great David Faverley was bamboozling them with his stupid nice guy act.

It upset me again, the thought of him. That weird unsettled feeling I’d been getting since I’d taken his stupid Harrison Gables bargain.

I stared at the dancefloor, watching the lights change and dance, letting everything slip away apart from the alcohol in my veins and the beat of the track.

Rick interrupted my thoughts. He took one hand, squeezed it tight, and Carl took the other. “Enough of the baby talk,” he said. “I think it’s about time we hit the fucking floor.”

I tried not to think about it too hard, tried not to hope, tried not to make plans that might never happen. We had our beautiful Katie back, in our home, in our arms, in our bed. She’d weathered my fuck-up, stayed the course through the big
baby
reveal, and we were still going strong. This was as far as we’d ever made it. Our gorgeous, vivacious, infectious girl was still with us, still loving us, and that was enough.

For now, that was enough.

Besides, the topic wasn’t up for discussion. One drunken conversation at the side of a club dancefloor, and Katie closed up about the whole subject.

Babies were very much off the agenda those next few weeks, not so much as a peep about
Daddy Rick
and
Daddy Carl
and what the fuck that could mean for the three of us. Babies were off Katie’s radar entirely as far as I could read it, but Verity Faverley was very much on it.

It wasn’t so much what Katie said, or even what she did, that made me uneasy about the dynamic between those two young women. On the face of it, Katie was happy and gracious, smiling without gloating as she marked up her sales leads on the whiteboard. There was no arrogance in her. She was calm and collected, dedicated without being obsessive. In truth, the girl had it nailed. But I couldn’t
shake it. That
something.
That gut instinct that says there’s trouble brewing in paradise.

Strangely enough, the animosity that bristled my senses didn’t seem to be coming from Verity’s direction. I’d coach her for long afternoons, as promised during her back office meltdown, and she barely even gave her sister a second glance.

But of course she wouldn’t. Verity had a much bigger game plan. She was all out to get better, to prove her worth. Her grit had been tested and found lacking, and she’d come back with steel in her gut for round two.

Verity Faverley fucking nailed round two.

She soaked in everything, every little piece of advice, every scrap of feedback. She took sales materials home at night, and be all the wiser for it next morning.

She impressed me in a way I’d have never expected. Brat comes good. Who’d have ever thought it?

Seemingly not Katie. She refused to acknowledge Verity’s existence, certainly not as a contender. Not on the face of it.

Katie and Ryan topped the sales leaderboard with ease over the first few weeks. They’d finish up ahead of everyone else without breaking a sweat, every day without fail. Sometimes Katie would take the day, sometimes Ryan, but their relationship was full of easy camaraderie, content in the knowledge that they were the two to watch. They were smashing targets, producing sales leads that were progressing into real opportunities for the field based teams. They were developing a solid pipeline, networking with the right people in the right target organisations. They were good. Really fucking good.

They made me so proud.

But so did Verity. Her steely resolve as she learned the trade from the ground up. She wasn’t a firework, one of those bright burners that shoot across the sky. She was a submarine, cruising under the surface, unnoticed until she was in the right position. Then, BAM, one day she hit her zone. She made her calls with confidence, armed with product knowledge that would have put most field reps to shame. She asked the right questions, with a framework to understand the answers. She hit the phone, making those calls steadily, without blips or slumps, and she started bringing those leads in.

What Verity Faverley lacked in natural communication skills she made up for in effort.

She crept up through the ranks, a couple of leads at first, the odd one here or there which morphed into a clockwork performance of one a day. Then more. She consumed data, ate through calling records on her quest to hit the top echelons, and one day, as we reached the middle of the telemarketing phase of the internship programme, she was hot on the Katie-Ryan superteam’s tail.

Once she had their tail, they couldn’t shake her off. However many leads they generated, she was always right there. She’d clock one up on the board for almost every one they did, and once she had the bug it possessed her, consumed her.

She was in early every morning, picking up the phone to catch those targets unavailable in office hours. She was working through lunch, to the point I’d have to turf her from her seat to make sure the girl was eating properly. She was staying late to listen through her call recordings.

“She’s doing well, your sister,” I said to Katie in the car one night. “Really well. She’s really put the work in.”

All I got was a shrug. “Good for her.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“I really think I couldn’t care less how the bitch is doing. And she’s not my sister, Carl, she’s made that perfectly clear.”

I opted to push it. “Have you considered talking to her? Swapping some tips? Verity has her data management sales points nailed right on, she might have some useful info you can use in the big pharma vertical.”

And that’s when I knew for sure. It was the look in Katie’s eyes when she shot me a glare. It lasted no longer than a second, a momentary slip of her guard that revealed the powerhouse of resentment burning behind the scenes.

“I’ve got nothing to say to Verity,” she said. “Swapping tips with her really doesn’t interest me. I don’t
need
her tips, and she sure as fuck won’t want mine.”

“Don’t be so sure on that,” I said. “She’s a dedicated learner. I’m certain she’d appreciate your guidance.” I looked at her. “After all, you are top of the leaderboard, Katie, you have nothing to prove and everything to give.”

“I have
everything
to prove.” Her voice was edgy and raw. “
Everything
.”

Her tone made me pull the car over. I indicated into a shopping arcade, parked up in one of the empty spaces.

“What?” she said. “Why are we stopping?”

“We’re stopping because I want to say something. Because it’s important.” I turned to face her. “You have nobody doubting you, nobody trying to knock you down, or see you fail. The only person you have to prove anything to is
you
, Katie.”

She shook her head, scoffed at me. “Me, right. Sure. And Verity, and David sperm-donor Faverley and their whole fucking family, Carl.”

“Why so?”

“Because they expect me to fail,” she said. “They
want
me to fail. That’s why I’m even in this internship programme.” I raised my eyebrows, but she shook her head. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s true. Not for you, who wants the best for everyone, but for them. For them it’s all a stupid game. One silly gold envelope and an awkward hug doesn’t change the facts, Carl. He’s
laughing at me, I’m a set up to prove
she’s
better than me. Just like always.”

“That really isn’t true, Katie.”

“That’s why my idiot father wants me here, just so Verity does better. Just like she
always
does better. So I can be the useless crappy sister
again, and she can take all the glory. But not this time.” She smiled. “This time I’m coming out on top. Fuck them all.” She folded her arms. “I’m good at this shit, I know I’m good at this shit. Verity can fuck off if she thinks she’s going to be better than me at this shit.”

“She doesn’t,” I said. “She’s said nothing of the kind.”

She shook her head again. “She wouldn’t, would she? Not to you.”

“Has she said anything of the kind to anyone else? Anything you’ve heard?”

She shrugged. “I don’t need to hear anything. I
know
her.”

I squeezed her knee. “Sometimes people can surprise you, Katie. Maybe Verity is one of those people.”

“Nice try,” she said, and put her hand on mine. “I appreciate the sentiment, and the psycho-analysis, but those people are toxic, and I’m going to come out on top, just because I can. Just because this time, in this arena, I’m better than she is.”

“This will eat you up.” I looked at her but she wouldn’t look back. “Believe me, Katie, it’ll eat you up. Do this for you, not for other people, not to prove a point. Nobody is waiting for you to fail, there is no ulterior motive here, not for anyone.”

“Not for you, Carl, not for you.”

I sighed. “That first week on the phone, when you got your gold envelope, I found Verity sobbing her heart out in the stationery cupboard.”

“Good,” she said. “That’ll be a first. I had enough years of being the one crying, she can have it fucking back.”

I shook my head. “You know me, Katie, I’m going to just put this out there, what I think.”

“Mr Direct, yes, I know. Shoot.” She met my eyes. “Go on, tell me. What is it you think?” She sighed, softened her voice. “Go on, Carl. I’m listening.”

I squeezed her knee that little bit tighter. “I think it’s a two way street. I think she felt as rotten as you,
feels
as rotten as you did, as insecure as you, as inferior as she made you feel. I think she was lashing out, because underneath it all, Katie, underneath all her bullying and her bluster and the
I’ve got more horses than you have
bullshit, underneath everything you wanted and everything you tried and all the times you said you didn’t want to know your father and his posh snooty family, I think there were two very scared little girls who just wanted to feel loved by their dad. Who just wanted to feel good enough.”

She didn’t say a word. Didn’t even breathe.

“Am I right?”

She shook her head and there were tears there.

“Talk to me,” I said. “Katie, I’m right here. You can talk to me, I get it. I get all of it.” I willed her to let me reach her. “I know what it’s like to have someone turn up out of the blue, someone you’ve dreamed of your whole fucking life. The magical father, the guy you dreamed would show up on a big fucking chariot and whisk you away with declarations of love and devotion and finally make you feel like someone who matters. I get what it feels like when it all turns out to be bullshit, when he turns out to be someone who doesn’t give a shit, not really. When it turns out your dreams were all for nothing, and you’re still the same sad kid without a dad.”