and a few shouts drifted back from Cody’s bedroom, where he’d retreated with his friend Brandon. Kerri shrugged.
“Video games. Apparently it’s very intense.”
“You don’t play?”
“I’ve tried a few times. I always get my butt kicked. I don’t have the time to devote to becoming an expert. I limit his access to the games, but not by much. He’s a good student. If he enjoys them, why not let him?”
Nathan knew enough to read between the lines. Cody should get in as much fun now as possible, because there wasn’t going to be a later.
He remembered having the same thoughts about Daniel. His son had—
He drew in a breath as an unexpected pain shot through his chest. It was emotional rather than physical, but breath stealing nonetheless.
After all this time, he thought, surprised the ache still existed. He would have said he was over it. But maybe one never recovered from the death of a child.
She picked up her wine and took a sip. “So,Nathan King, tell me about yourself. I only know business stuff. Do you have family?”
“There’s no need to discuss my personal life.”
“Ooh, doesn’t that sound pompous. Does that stick up your butt make it painful to sit down?”
As soon as she spoke, her eyes widened and she set down the glass.
“Did I say that out loud?” she asked, sounding horrified.
“Yes.”
“I am so sorry. That was rude. This is my house and you’re a guest and I should keep comments like that to myself.” She took another drink. “But if you don’t tell me, I’ll just go to Google and get the info that way.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t.”
“I know some things from my research. There’s a reporter who really hates you. Grant Somebody.”
“Grant Pryor. I know him.”
“What’s his deal?”
“He wants to work for a real paper. He thinks the right story about me can get him there.”
“That’s a lot of pressure. For you, I mean. Holding someone’s career in the palm of your hand.”
He smiled. “Now you’re playing me. ”
“I know. It’s fun, isn’t it? So why you? Why not some other rich guy?”
“Because I’m a coldhearted bastard and that makes me interesting.”
“Do you really see yourself as a bastard?”
“We’re not having that conversation.”
“All right, but now you have to tell me something about your family.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do.” She smiled. “Come on, Nathan. We’re practically friends. Who’s around still? I know you have an ex-wife, but is that it? Mother? Father? Siblings?”
“One sister.”
“There. Was that so hard?”
Not for her, he thought. But maybe for him. He didn’t like thinking about Frankie, about how she blamed him for what had happened.
“I was pretty young when my parents died,” she told him. “It was a car accident. My grandmother raised me. What about you?”
He supposed in her world the exchange of personal information was natural and expected. It wasn’t in his.
“My mother shot my father, then turned the gun on herself the second year I was in college,” he said flatly. “My sister was seventeen and at home at the time. She walked in on them after the first gunshot.”
Kerri’s face froze in horror. “Oh my God. That’s terrible. For all of you. Nathan, I’m sorry.” She reached across the table and rested her fingers on his hand, as if her touch would help.
“I’m fine,” he told her. “It was a long time ago.”
“Where’s your sister now?”
“Here. In Seattle.”
“Are you close?”
“She blames me for what happened,” he said. “Because when I left, things got worse. My dad was a drunk. A mean drunk. He beat the crap out of my mom and me. Although he never touched Frankie, he wasn’t an easy man to live with. I got out—a football scholarship to USC. That left Frankie by herself to deal with it. Dad picked on her verbally because she wasn’t…” He hesitated. “She has some problems.”
Kerri frowned. “Like
“Video games. Apparently it’s very intense.”
“You don’t play?”
“I’ve tried a few times. I always get my butt kicked. I don’t have the time to devote to becoming an expert. I limit his access to the games, but not by much. He’s a good student. If he enjoys them, why not let him?”
Nathan knew enough to read between the lines. Cody should get in as much fun now as possible, because there wasn’t going to be a later.
He remembered having the same thoughts about Daniel. His son had—
He drew in a breath as an unexpected pain shot through his chest. It was emotional rather than physical, but breath stealing nonetheless.
After all this time, he thought, surprised the ache still existed. He would have said he was over it. But maybe one never recovered from the death of a child.
She picked up her wine and took a sip. “So,Nathan King, tell me about yourself. I only know business stuff. Do you have family?”
“There’s no need to discuss my personal life.”
“Ooh, doesn’t that sound pompous. Does that stick up your butt make it painful to sit down?”
As soon as she spoke, her eyes widened and she set down the glass.
“Did I say that out loud?” she asked, sounding horrified.
“Yes.”
“I am so sorry. That was rude. This is my house and you’re a guest and I should keep comments like that to myself.” She took another drink. “But if you don’t tell me, I’ll just go to Google and get the info that way.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t.”
“I know some things from my research. There’s a reporter who really hates you. Grant Somebody.”
“Grant Pryor. I know him.”
“What’s his deal?”
“He wants to work for a real paper. He thinks the right story about me can get him there.”
“That’s a lot of pressure. For you, I mean. Holding someone’s career in the palm of your hand.”
He smiled. “Now you’re playing me. ”
“I know. It’s fun, isn’t it? So why you? Why not some other rich guy?”
“Because I’m a coldhearted bastard and that makes me interesting.”
“Do you really see yourself as a bastard?”
“We’re not having that conversation.”
“All right, but now you have to tell me something about your family.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do.” She smiled. “Come on, Nathan. We’re practically friends. Who’s around still? I know you have an ex-wife, but is that it? Mother? Father? Siblings?”
“One sister.”
“There. Was that so hard?”
Not for her, he thought. But maybe for him. He didn’t like thinking about Frankie, about how she blamed him for what had happened.
“I was pretty young when my parents died,” she told him. “It was a car accident. My grandmother raised me. What about you?”
He supposed in her world the exchange of personal information was natural and expected. It wasn’t in his.
“My mother shot my father, then turned the gun on herself the second year I was in college,” he said flatly. “My sister was seventeen and at home at the time. She walked in on them after the first gunshot.”
Kerri’s face froze in horror. “Oh my God. That’s terrible. For all of you. Nathan, I’m sorry.” She reached across the table and rested her fingers on his hand, as if her touch would help.
“I’m fine,” he told her. “It was a long time ago.”
“Where’s your sister now?”
“Here. In Seattle.”
“Are you close?”
“She blames me for what happened,” he said. “Because when I left, things got worse. My dad was a drunk. A mean drunk. He beat the crap out of my mom and me. Although he never touched Frankie, he wasn’t an easy man to live with. I got out—a football scholarship to USC. That left Frankie by herself to deal with it. Dad picked on her verbally because she wasn’t…” He hesitated. “She has some problems.”
Kerri frowned. “Like
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