Rusty broke in, “Silly game that makes him ten million a year. And he won the Norris Trophy.”
“Ten million is nothing. And that era is over. He’ll need something better to do. Awarding large charitable grants should please him. He already gives more of his own funds to charity than our accountants recommend.”
Maybe Cross would enjoy passing out big money to worthwhile causes, but Rusty couldn’t imagine him sitting in an office. “I doubt he wants to wither behind a desk. I bet he’ll find a different job in hockey. He’d be a great coach, or a scout who checks out prospects. He’s awesome at seeing a player’s skills and weaknesses.”
LaCroix scoffed. “For pennies an hour and keeping expense reports? Hardly.”
“Look. It’s not up to you or me. Cross gets to decide what he wants to do. I’m here for him, whatever that turns out to be.”
“But for how long?” LaCroix looked Rusty up and down, his lips curled. “You’re so young. Are you even legal?”
“If you have a report, you know how old I am.”
“A teenager.”
Rusty couldn’t deny that so he shrugged.
“RJ will get tired of you, soon enough. He didn’t even hold onto his girlfriend, and she was a much better match.”
“Willow? I hear she bored him stiff.” Rusty faked a grin. “Now, I like him stiff.”
“You’re a child,” LaCroix spat out. “A plaything. How much money are you expecting from him when he gets bored? Was this kidnapping a way to get the funds faster?”
“Fuck you.” Rusty held onto the ragged edges of his temper, his fists balled at his side. “Where’s Marie? Ask her how bored Cross is with me.”
“Marie’s a girl, with a soft heart.”
“I can’twaitto hear you tell her that.”
“I will pay you now. A million dollars, free and clear. How’s that for a few months of work?”
“Cross is not work, and you can shove that million dollars up your ass.”
“Two million. Last offer. All you have to do is stop—”
“Stop what?” Cross asked from the doorway. He crutched forward and when his father didn’t give way, Cross bumped him aside and went to Rusty. “Hey, mon chou, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Rusty giggled, cumulative stress coming out in a weird laugh, then rubbed his hand over his mouth.I didn’t punch your dad. That’s good, right?
Cross leaned toward him, chin raised, and Rusty took the offered kiss. Cross turned back to his father. “So exactly what were you offering my boyfriend two million dollars for?” His voice held a sharp edge.
“Now, RJ.” His father held his hands out, like he was calming an angry dog. “Listen to me.”
“I did. I heard him tell you to stick a million dollars up your ass, and heard you come back with two million. For what?”
“You know I want what’s best for you, right?”
“No, actually, I don’t know that. You always wanted what was easy for you, convenient. What fit in your plans and didn’t make waves.”
“I let you play hockey when I could’ve used you in the family business. I let you quit college to play hockey, which I’m beginning to think was a big mistake.”
“No, see, the mistake was thinking you had any right to stop me. I was twenty. It was none of your business. Just like what I’m doing with my life now is none of your business.”
“Except you just got yourself kidnapped.” LaCroix glowered. “Thanks to this man. And that could’ve cost me a whole lot of money.”
“You know what? Next time, feel free to not pay it. If you’re worried about losing some of your fortune to get your disappointing son back, then tell them, ‘He’s none of my business,’ right?”
“No, son, no, you know it wasn’t the money I was concerned about.”
