She moved into the room and stood in front of him, arms crossed. “Your father came here today to watch qualifying, you know.”
He smiled around the rim of the bottle. “My father came today to use me to get votes and face time.”
“Uh, no. The only thing he said on camera was how proud he was of you, and what an amazing driver you were.”
Gray snorted, tossed the beer into the trash and got another out of the fridge, then resumed his seat.
Irritated, she leaned against the arm of the chair across from him. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”
He didn’t even look at her, just past her. “Because he never once saw me play ball when I was a kid. Or in high school or in college. He was always too busy with politics, with his career, which was so much more important than his own kid. Except one time, he showed up at my game. God, I was so excited to see him there, until I realized it was an election year. He wasn’t even watching me play. He was glad-handing the parents in the stands, trying to get votes. I could have walked off the field and he wouldn’t have known the difference. He didn’t even know I was there.”
“I’m sorry, Gray. That must have hurt.”
He shrugged. “I got over it, and got used to his indifference.”
“I can’t imagine you could ever get used to that. But that’s not the Mitchell Preston I know. The Mitchell Preston I know is warm and caring.”
He dragged his gaze to her. “Yeah, he was always warm and caring with beautiful women.”
She rolled her eyes. “I told you he’s never been like that with me.”
“So you’ve said.”
“Don’t be insulting to me just because you’re pissed at your dad. I think you know me better than that.”
“Do I? You seem to defend him a lot.”
He was hurt, and lashing out at her because his father wasn’t there to take his anger out on. A part of her understood that, even though his words hurt her. “I defend him because of who he is and what he stands for. He isn’t the man you describe to me.
Believe me, I know about his past. I wasn’t going to work for someone I hadn’t fully vetted. But after his heart attack, he changed.”
Gray frowned. “What heart attack? My father never had a heart attack.”
“Uh, yeah, he did, Gray.”
“When?”
“Eight years ago. It nearly killed him, and it sure as hell scared the shit out of him. It changed his life and changed his outlook on everything, from politics to his relationships with his staff, the way he lived his life and his relationship with his wife.
He said he reached out to you afterward, but you refused to respond.”
Gray shook his head, unable to fathom what Evelyn said was true. Eight years ago he’d been . . . what? Racing. Loving his life, just getting started.
He didn’t remember his father contacting him. Then again, they corresponded, but that was right after his grandfather died, too. When Gray inherited the money. He remembered his father calling him, trying to see him. He figured his father was going to try to convince him to reevaluate and go to Harvard. He wanted no part of that, so he resisted the contact with his father.
No. “That can’t be true.”
“It is true.”
He went for his phone, called his mother.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“At the convention hotel.”
“I’m coming over. Don’t leave.”
“All right.”
He looked at Evelyn.
“I’ll come with you.”
He gave a short nod and went into the bedroom to change clothes, came out a few minutes later and grabbed his keys. The drive to the convention hotel was a short one.
He didn’t say anything on the way and fortunately Evelyn didn’t either.
He had nothing to say, all he could do was think back all those years.
His mother opened the door to her suite.
“He’s not here,” she said as she let them in. “He has meetings.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Dad’s heart attack?”
His mom looked at Evelyn, then went to sit down on one of the sofas in the suite.
“Your father didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want you to feel obligated to be by his side simply because he’d fallen ill. He wanted to repair his relationship with you based on mutual respect and understanding, not because of his health.”
Gray sucked in a breath. “The media doesn’t know.”
“No. He’d fully recovered. He changed his entire lifestyle, his diet. No more alcohol and he exercises all the time now. It was a life-changing event for him, Gray, in so many ways.”
And Gray had never known about it.
“And he called me?”
“A few times, until you made it clear you wanted no contact. He made Carolina and me promise not to tell you about it, so we didn’t. He figured you’d come around eventually.”
But he hadn’t, because he thought his father was the same man he’d always been.
“You believe he’s changed?” he asked his mother.
She smiled at him. “I doubt I’d still be with him if he hadn’t.” She patted the spot next to her on the sofa and Gray sat next to her.