Alton was silent for a long moment, looking out the window once more. “I’m ashamed to admit that I can barely remember. I suppose it felt like the path of least resistance, and I had both my mother and yours reminding me that it would be an advantageous match. We were from the right families, and on paper, Linda and I are well suited. Serious, committed to our careers…”

“Dad. If you’re trying to warn me not to follow in your footsteps, you don’t have to worry. I have no intention of marrying Elizabeth.”

“I know.”

“Really?” Clarke said doubtfully. “Then what the hell has this entire talk been about, if not to warn me not to follow in your footsteps?”

“I don’t want you to make my mistakes—”

“Right, I got that. Don’t marry someone Mom picks out for me. Check.”

“Not just that,” his father said, impatient. “I want you to marry the girl who makes you laugh. Don’t let her get away…”

“What do you— Wait, Audrey? I already told you, we’re just friends. We were just messing around with the engagement thing—”

“Marry that girl, Clarke. You won’t regret it.”

Clarke gave a good-natured eye roll. “Fantastic. Now both my parents are trying to rush me to the altar with different women.”

“It’s not the same thing,” his dad said quietly.

“How’s that?”

Alton studied him with a cryptic, knowing look. “You’d figure it out in time, but because I’m not a particularly patient man, maybe I can help speed you along.”

Clarke gave his dad a wary look.

“Marry Audrey,” his father said, looking him straight in the eyes. “Marry Audrey, and the company is yours.”

Clarke had been idly tapping his fingers against one another, but he went completely still at that. “What? Jesus, Dad, and I thought Mom was the master manipulator, but this… this is a whole other level of… I don’t think there are words.”

His father said nothing. Or maybe he did. Clarke was too busy trying to gather his reeling thoughts.

When he finally got ahold of them, he stood and looked down at his dad. “I deserve this company because I’ve earned it. Because I’ve done a damn good job. I don’t want it handed to me because of some game you and Mom are playing with my future.”

“Your mother and I may be the ones playing the game, but you’d be the one with the prize.”

“Only you would describe your own company as a prize,” Clarke replied, turning away, disgusted.

“No,” Alton said, his voice so sharp that Clarke froze. “Audrey, son. Audrey is the prize.”

Chapter Thirteen

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1

As far as man caves go, it’s a damn good one,” Clarke said approvingly, looking around the upstairs loft area of Oliver and Naomi’s apartment.