Page 236 of Power Play

My father pushed back his chair. “We should step outside.”

A short, bitter laugh left me. “No.”

“Charmagne.”

“Don’t.”

His eyes sharpened. Several guests closest to us had begun pretending they couldn’t hear the conversation.

I stood, drawing the attention of more people at the table. My mother immediately rose beside me.

“Please excuse us.”

That single sentence carried an entire childhood inside it.

Don’t make a scene. Don’t embarrass us. Don’t be difficult.

I grabbed my purse. “Fine.”

The smoking patio beyond the dining room was empty except for two heaters glowing beneath the awning. Cold air struck my bare arms the second the door closed behind us.

My father followed me outside and stepped closer. “This is exactly why we didn’t say anything.”

“Why?”

“Because we assumed it would pass.”

“It didn’t.”

My mother folded her arms. “Charm, he is twenty-five.”

“So?”

“He plays minor-league hockey.”

“Semi-pro.”

“Crystal,” my father warned.

“No, Lance. She needs to understand.”

“I understand exactly what Ryan does.”

“Do you?” my mother asked.

My temper flared. “Yes.”

Her gaze hardened. “You have graduate opportunities, design houses, and connections. You have an entire future ahead of you.”

“So does he.”

My father laughed beneath his breath.

I stared at him. “What?”

“Charm, be serious.”

“I am serious.”