Sherryl Woods

The Delacourt Scandal


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matched his father’s scowl. “Would you rather I went to another company?”

      Red patches darkened his father’s cheeks at the suggestion. “Maybe that would be for the best. It would get you away from the influence of that hooligan.”

      Tyler wasn’t sure which of them was the most shocked by the response. “If that’s the way you really feel—”

      His father’s anger dissolved. “Blast it all, Tyler, that’s not what I want! You’re a Delacourt. What would people think if you turned up working for one of our competitors?”

      “That you and I had a falling out,” Tyler said readily. “They wouldn’t be off the mark, either.”

      “Well, I’m not going to be fodder for anyone’s gossip. If you insist on risking your life, then you’ll do it on one of my rigs. They’ve got the best safety record in the business—Corrigan’s seen to that. The man costs me an arm and a leg with all his precautions.”

      “Do you begrudge him the money he spends so that you can boast about your safety record?”

      “Of course not,” his father retorted impatiently. “Do you have to twist everything I say?”

      Tyler laughed. “Just imagine what I’d do if you had me underfoot every day.”

      Slowly a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his father’s mouth. “I suppose there is a positive side to this ridiculous decision of yours. At least we won’t be butting heads on a regular basis.”

      “Just holidays and special occasions,” Tyler suggested wryly.

      “Better make it more often than that, or your mother will have my hide,” his father countered.

      It was as near as Bryce Delacourt was likely to come to an admission of affection, and Tyler found it oddly moving. “We definitely can’t have that, can we?” he replied lightly. “Thanks for seeing it my way, Dad.”

      “You didn’t give me much of a choice, did you? Go on, now, before Corrigan calls up and accuses me of stealing his best worker.”

      “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick around till the weekend, let Mother fuss over me a little. Daniel can manage without me a few more days.”

      “That’ll make your mother happy,” his father agreed. “To tell you the truth, I won’t mind seeing you around the house a little more myself.”

      His words surprised Tyler. It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting that he missed one of his children. Instead he chose to grumble about their desertion of the family business. For the first time Tyler realized that what his father might mean but couldn’t say, was that he hated the fact they’d drifted out of his life. Nor was he ever likely to admit that he might be the one who’d driven them away through his attempts to control them.

      “Dad, you do know that we all love you, don’t you?” Tyler said. “That hasn’t changed just because we’ve chosen to go our own ways.”

      For a fleeting instant he thought he detected the sheen of unshed tears in his father’s eyes, but before he could tell for sure, his father bent over the stack of paperwork on his desk.

      “You be sure to stop by and see your mother,” he said. “I’ve got work to do.”

      Tyler hesitated, wanting to say more but not knowing exactly how. He settled for pausing beside his father’s desk long enough to give his shoulder a squeeze before leaving the office. As he closed the door behind him, he thought he heard Bryce sigh.

      “You’re still in one piece. Everything must have gone okay,” his father’s secretary said, surveying him intently.

      Tyler nodded. “Surprisingly well,” he told her.

      So why was he leaving with the terrible sense that he had let his father down in some way he might never fully understand?

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