Playing Dirty

Two

A Year Later

Ryan wondered if today would be the day Bradford Silverton finally lost his temper.

Seated in front his father's massive mahogany desk, Ryan watched the play of expressions on the older man's face and decided this was definitely not the day he would witness the impossible.

It was not Bradford Silverton's style to resort to temper tantrums or relinquish control enough to allow for unnecessary things like yelling or even loud laughter.

Ryan knew the old man was pissed from the moment he'd walked into his private study and his father had ignored him for a full ten minutes, his attention riveted on the contents of the computer screen.

This was deliberate, giving his victim enough time to stew, before he outlined their transgression; all delivered in a calm, but cold tone by which point, not a hint of anger.

Only disappointment. The soul crushing kind.

It was a tactic that had worked effectively with his employees, and - up until they'd hit early adulthood - his two children.

Growing up, Ryan had lived in dread of being summoned to his father's study. He'd hated the feeling of being vulnerable, the guilt that ate at him, sometimes even when he'd done nothing wrong, his mind would conjure up something to make him feel guilty about until his father deigned to acknowledge him and put him out of his misery.

It wasn't until he and Hailey had gone away to college that the twins realized the sort of mind games their father had played on them.

Now, he considered himself immune to the old man's tricks. On a normal day, Ryan would use the time to quickly check his social media accounts, play solitaire or chat with any available buddy, knowing his nonchalance served to irritate his father.

Today was not a normal day.

He'd fucked up.

Big time.

The kind of fuck up that led to losing important clients and a shit ton of money.

So Ryan sat, and stewed.

Bradford let him fret for another minute, and leaned back in his chair, eyes running over his son. "So, Caine pulled the contract."

The supposedly bland statement was an ax splitting his conscience in two.

"I can get him back." Ryan replied. "I will talk to Caine and convince him it was a mistake to drop us."

Irritation flashed across his father's expression so quickly Ryan would have missed it if he hadn't been watching closely.

"The mistake was yours, Ryan." Bradford's tone remained unwavering even. "Your carelessness is the reason we lost a two million dollar contract. Don't try to put this on the client."

"I agree. My word choice was wrong." Ryan leaned forward to perch on the edge of his chair, elbows resting on spread knees. "I take full responsibility."

He'd spent the past day mentally beating himself up for the screw up. He should have handled the resort project himself, rather than delegating it to his staff. The building had fallen horribly behind schedule, had gone over budget trying to solve issues that could have been prevented with careful management.

He had placed too heavy a burden on his team, had relied on them too much to pick up his slack over the past year while he struggled with personal issues and ultimately, things had fallen apart.

Not that he blamed them. The Caine Hotels and Resort project was bigger and more demanding than anyone had envisioned, and without a good leader at the helm to guide the decision making, shit had hit the fan.