Rare - Briar Prescott Page 0,3

the voice of a long-suffering TV dad.

“Too drunk to realize the doors were locked.”

His father just stared at him without blinking.

Alex shrugged. “Hey, it happens to the best of us.”

“Yes. I have firsthand experience with that saying.” His father gave him a long, pointed stare. Green eyes, so very similar to Alex’s. In fact, nobody who looked at the two of them wouldn’t have had any trouble figuring out they were father and son. Alex, as much as he hated it, was a spitting image of his father from his black hair to his wiry build, but that was also where their similarities ended.

It was fine.

It certainly wasn’t the first time it had been implied that Alex was a disappointment.

It did not sting one bit. Definitely not.

“What’s the plan, Alex?” his father finally asked.

“I was planning to go home and sleep since somebody took forever to come and get me,” Alex said from the corner of his mouth as he pointed his thumb at Jeeves. No reaction. The man really was made of icicles and liquid nitrogen. Baby birds probably fell down the sky when Jeeves walked past, frozen to their tiny cores.

Alex slouched back and shrugged. “After that? Who knows, a burger maybe? Or sushi?”

His father’s jaw clenched so hard, Alex was surprised the man didn’t break any teeth. “Damn it, Alex.” His father stood up from behind his desk and stalked to the floor-to-ceiling window. “Damn it,” he repeated. His shoulders drooped as he looked out the window.

It was the first genuine emotion Alex had seen from his father in a long time. It only lasted for a moment, though. When his father turned around, everything human was, once again, neatly tucked away behind the designer suit and the closed-off expression. He went back to his desk and sat down. Jeeves and his father exchanged a glance before Jeeves nodded once and quietly left the room.

Alex’s eyebrows flew up. That was something new.

“Is this the place where you’ll tell me you’re not my real dad?” Alex asked. “Ooh, a follow-up question. If that is, in fact, true, can I pick a new one? I’m thinking somebody fun.” He tapped his chin with his forefinger. “I wonder if Hugh Jackman would consider adopting me?”

Alex’s father gave him an irritated look, but Alex didn’t let it stop him. “Or maybe Mick Jagger? He has so many kids that it probably wouldn’t really matter if he added one more to the bunch. He’d give me concert tickets, and in return he’d get to enjoy my superior sense of whimsy. Personally, I think he’d be the winner in that situation, but I’m ready to make the sacrifice. A successful relationship is all about the willingness to compromise, after all.”

His father slammed his palms on the desk in front of him, and for a second, Alex enjoyed the rush of victory caused by his successful needling.

“Can you be serious for once in your damn life?” He did not yell. His father never yelled. Did not lose his cool. Ever. But the tone he used was one Alex had only heard a handful of times in his life. It was the one his father had brought out when Alex had gotten caught stealing candy when he was nine.

The second time was when his father had heard Alex call their housekeeper an idiot when he’d been fifteen.

Then there was the Great Cocaine Incident of 2007, which definitely didn’t go down in history as one of Alex’s finest moments, so The Tone might have been deserved with that one.

The Tone had also made an appearance when Alex had been expelled from his fancy boarding school his sophomore year for having an orgy, even though Alex maintained that a threesome could hardly be called an orgy, especially since it was only two other people besides Alex. And sure, one of them had been a guy, but it wasn’t like it was some sort of a setup to turn the dorms into an underground sex club. It was just two childhood sweethearts who wanted to try something new and had both apparently been attracted to Alex. As far as orgies went, that one had been practically puritanical.

The headmistress had not agreed. Mainly because one of the participants had been her own daughter. Whatever. His father had had to finance the renovation of a library or a hospital wing or something like that in order to get the next school to turn a blind eye at that little nugget