‘Sorry,’ she added. ‘It’s not personal.’
‘Please, don’t apologize. My dad makes my life miserable – and I’m his flesh and blood. I get it, believe me.’
‘Hmmm.’ Tati studied him more closely. ‘Yes. I suspect you do.’
Inhaling deeply on her cigarette, she released the smoke in a slow, sultry trail through her pursed lips, looking at Jason all the while. Anyone who thought of smoking as a dirty, unattractive habit clearly hadn’t seen Tatiana Flint-Hamilton doing it.
It had been a stressful day. Brett’s comments about marriage to a rich man being her only option had been no more than a childish attempt to put her down. Playground spite. And yet deep down Tati feared there might be some truth to them. He was certainly right that she could never settle down as a teacher in a sleepy Sussex village. That she needed excitement, and drama, and that she missed the high life she’d left behind in London.
The problem was that having always expected to inherit Furlings, and a fortune to go with it, she’d never given much thought to making her own way. But now the question had become pressing. If she didn’t win her court case in September, what would she do? What would her future look like? Brett had been typically scathing about her ability to start her own business. Then again, Brett Cranley was so sexist he probably believed women were incapable of tying their shoelaces without a man’s help.
Tati told herself firmly that if an intellectually challenged emotional retard like Brett Cranley could become a self-made millionaire, then so could she. Besides, she wasn’t going to lose the court case. But the lingering feeling of self-doubt and depression refused to leave her. She was coming up to London to escape.
‘So, what takes you up to town?’ she asked, turning the conversation back to Jason.
‘Work.’ He sighed heavily.
‘You don’t sound too thrilled about it!’
‘I’m not.’ Partly out of nervousness, and partly because he liked Tatiana and she seemed genuinely interested, Jason started to elaborate on how much he hated working at his father’s company and how useless he was at anything connected to business. He described Graham Jones to her, reducing Tati to tears of laughter, and did his best to convey the almost indescribable tedium of his work at Cranley Estates.
‘Wow,’ she said when he finally stopped talking. ‘That does sound ghastly.’
‘It is.’
‘Almost makes me feel lucky to be stuck making the tea at a village primary school. Although your father was kind enough to suggest today that I quit my job, and my court case, and focus on snagging myself a rich husband.’
Jason shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. He’s a Neanderthal.’
‘Why is that?’ asked Tati.
Jason looked thoughtful. ‘I don’t really know. It’s odd because in one way he loves women. He’s always been much closer to Logan than to me, and he loves Mum, even though he sometimes doesn’t act like it. The only time I’ve ever seen him cry was talking about his own mother. But then, in another way …’ He trailed off. ‘I don’t think he likes to be challenged.’
‘That’s an understatement,’ said Tati. ‘Not that I give a monkey’s what your father thinks about me. But I do feel sorry for Logan. I was trying to tell Brett today about how bright she is, if she just had the right help. But he didn’t want to hear it.’
Jason felt the anger rise up inside him, hardening into a solid ball in his chest. The idea of Brett stifling Logan the way he’d stifled him filled him with impotent rage.
‘Doesn’t he want his children to succeed?’ Tati questioned.
‘Oh, he does,’ Jason said bitterly. ‘It’s almost funny; family is everything to him – but he doesn’t quite know what to do with us. But only on his terms. His definition of success.’
‘Which is?’
‘Dad wants me to be an entrepreneur, the next Sol Kerzner, and Logan to marry a prince.’ Jason laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. ‘I’d say Logie’s got a better chance than I have.’
Tatiana looked at Jason more closely. She still couldn’t entirely decide whether or not he was handsome. He had huge, soulful eyes, beautiful in a sad sort of way, but also strange-looking, too big for the rest of his face, like a possum’s eyes. His skin was pale like his mother’s, with delicate features and a sensual, expressive mouth. He’d be a stunning girl, Tati found herself thinking. It was bizarre how all the male traits that Brett exemplified – confidence, charm, ambition – seemed to have been inherited by his daughter; while his son and heir was a gentle lamb who completely broke the mould.
Tati found herself empathizing with Jason. They might not have much in common in other ways, but they both knew what it was like to have a father who was constantly disappointed in them. Who wanted them to be someone else, someone they were intrinsically incapable of being.