Oliver was pretty much the poster child for "how NOT to be a dad." For years, he
hadn''t even bothered to check in on Ss.
When Ss was a kid, Oliver barely gave him the time of day. Heck, he''d even
entertained the thought of getting rid of his own son. Now, after all these years,
suddenly the old man wanted Ss toe back and help "protect the family
legacy," whatever that meant.
Honestly, it was ridiculous.
Ss saw Oliver as the enemy, and yet Oliver still thought he had some sort of
authority, like Ss would just fall in line because of biology. Newssh, Oliver:
you can''t im "dad points" when you never did a single dad thing.
The car rumbled along the winding drive.
Calliope just couldn''t help herself. She had to rant a bit about Oliver.
Zane, the driver, kept his eyes on the road and didn''t say a word. It wasn''t until
they pulled up in front of a sprawling suburban mansion that he finally spoke.
"We''re here, Ms. Jewell."
Calliope nced at him. "So, Zane, what does your boss want with me this time?
What''s he got to say now?"
Theirst meeting had gone off the rails. She hadn''t punched Oliver, but this time,
she wasn''t making any promises. As Ss''s wife, it was her job to protect her
husband, and she''d do it, even if it meant going a few rounds with Oliver.
Zane just shook his head. He honestly had no idea. But he figured it was probably
about Ss.
Calliope didn''t push for details. She just followed Zane inside.
The living room was all marble floors and high ceilings. Oliver was there, of
course, but so was a woman sitting on the opposite couch. She looked about
Calliope''s age, dressed head-to-toe in designerbels. Maybe there were a few
too many trips to the stic surgeon, but you could tell she''d once been
gorgeous.
Calliope only gave her a nce. Whoever this woman was, showing up at Oliver''s
ce meant she was probably up to no good.
"Ms. Jewell, you made it." Oliver sipped his coffee, looking up. "Did Sse
with you? I guess not, since he''s not here."
"Nope, he didn''te with me," Calliope replied. "He doesn''t really want to see
you. And honestly? I''m not wild about you two meeting up, either."
Calliope flopped down on the far end of the couch, making it clear she wasn''t
interested in ying nice.
Now the three of them looked like some weird standoff from a Western movie.
She crossed her legs and stared Oliver down. "So, what is it, old man? What do
you want?"
"Old what?" Oliver looked stunned, as if no one had ever dared call him anything
other than "sir" or "Mr. Myers."
"Old man. You heard me. Old man, ancient fossil, whatever you want to call it."
Calliope just kept going, rattling off
"old man" like it was a swear word.
"You''re so old and still kicking, and
for what? Just to ruin everyone''s
day?"
Oliver clutched his chest dramatically, like he was having a heart attack. "Am I
really that old?"
"Yeah, a lot older than me." Calliope nced at the other woman. "Hey, what do
you think? He''s older than you too, right?"
The woman just stared, clearly
sizing Calliope up since the moment
she walked in. Everything about
Calliope''s attitude seemed to rub her
the wrong way, and it showed in the
way she looked at her-judgy,
dismissive.
"Come on, he could be your dad.
Isn''t that ancient?" Calliope pressed.
She shot the woman another look.
"So, what''s your deal with him? Don''t
tell me you''re his girlfriend. This old
guy still chasing after younger
women?"
"And honestly, what''s wrong with your taste? You could do so much better than
this... whatever he is. He''s not a good look for you."
The woman finally managed, "Uh... you''ve got it all wrong."
Oliver took a while to recover, then scowled. "Can you not? Do you have to be so
rude? I invited you here to talk, not to bicker like children!"