Who's Your Daddy?

Manhattan - Elcairant - Rooftop

The rooftop dining area of Eclairant consists of two sections. The first is a glass solarium which allows diners to enjoy the view of the city, without fear of the elements or pigeons ruining their meal. The second is a row of tables meant for couples set out between the solarium and the carefully placed wrought-iron railing.

The decor up here is much the same as that inside, with one major exception — the tables and chairs are made of crafted wrought-iron, with Egyptian blue seat cushions and table cloths to give it that air of class. Soft lights twinkle from the railing, with glass candle holders on each table. A small, crystal chandelier hangs from the center of the solarium, but is always kept dim so diners can enjoy the night sky.


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Brooke Bishop Randall Reynard

What does one wear to meet their biological father? Especially when that man is a sorcerer she's been particularly programmed to loathe? Brooke has no idea and she fussed all morning trying to figure out what to wear. She had on a business suit, but felt that was almost too impersonal. Then she tried a sundress, but that was too personal.
Finally she settled on a dress that Bridget made for her earlier in the year. A simple white number that looks like it could belong in the Dior or Chanel line, with a black lace shoulder wrap.
Of course, she didn't want to go to RINC and announce herself, because she has no idea what sort of complications that could make in her life (or the life of the man who's responsible for creating her). It's not exactly neutral territory, being that it's Eclairant, but it's one of the few places in the city that Randall Reynard would have reason to go to a meeting at, and want a bit of privacy for it. It's also the second safest place in the city in Brooke's eyes; the first being Kieran's apartment.
It's only the second time she's been (mostly) on her own in the last few months. Owen is nearby. Downstairs, but at least he's close enough if there's any sign of trouble.
Fussing again as the waitress refills her glass of ice water, she smiles at the woman and then looks out over the city.

As unlikely as it may seem, Randall Reynard was not surprised to receive the meeting invitation from Miss Bishop. He's a reasonable man and knows that it was only a matter of time before the woman figured things out and sought out answers. That she's coming to him and not her mother is surprising. He did expect their meeting to come after she conversed with her mother and her adoptive father.
Still, he didn't snub the invite, more out of curiosity than anything else. He times his arrival so that he is being escorted to the table to arrive promptly at the designated time. Randall is not too early, nor is he too late.
"Miss Bishop," he greets her.

Standing as soon as she hears footsteps on the roof, the witch offers out her hand. "Mr. Reynard. Thank you for meeting with me."
As far as first things to say to one's biological parent, it's not awful, but it could have been better.
Brooke did consider talking to her mother, but she hasn't been up to Lima since the 'incident', and she's not sure she should invite her parents to stay with her at Kieran's apartment.
There are just some things a woman doesn't want to talk to her mother about via the phone or email.
"I took the liberty of ordering the chef's special for the day. I hope you don't mind? There's also a bottle of wine on the way, and Cindy," she says nodding at the waitress, "Will be more than happy to fetch you anything else you might like."

She has a firm, confident handshake, though beneath it Randall can feel that tingle, unusual vibe that he's heard spoken of but never experienced. Just as the power he feels when their gazes connect is different. Neither witch nor sorcerer, though feeling like a strong amalgamation of both. Having never interacted with a hybrid before, he thought the reports might have been exagerrated, but they are not. It's something he stores away for curious consideration later.
"Thank you for the invitation," Randall says. Having been raised to be a proper gentleman, no matter who or what the company, he motions for her to be seated before he follows suit. "That's quite acceptable, thank you. The chef's special is always a meal to be enjoyed and it never disappoints."
He nods politely to the server. "Wine and ice water will be perfectly suitable."

As she takes her seat, Brooke looks across at the man. Trying to see if she has any traits that resemble him in the least. It's not unsurprising that she'd do that. At least she doesn't believe it is.
"It's the least I could do for the help you were able to provide. The men you sent were willing to work with the Priory quite well, and should be commended for it." She heard that there was a bit of grumbling going on about having to deal with Coven witches, but they never uttered anything of the sort in front of her, or Siobhan as far as she's aware.

"It seemed an appropriate course of action to take, given the situation and the circumstances surrounding it," Randall says. "There are times when the proper thing to do is obvious, no matter how it may appear otherwise. Assistance with your recovery, and that of the Knight woman, was such a thing." In addition, he may not openly acknowledge the woman sitting across from him as his daugther, but she is blood and therefore warranted aid. It's no doubt the same reason that he received a call from Everett Knightley, calling in an old favor.

"Regardless. Many… businessmen such as yourself wouldn't bother with aid like that. No matter the circumstances. As such, I do appreciate it." Were the man across from her anyone but Randall Reynard, she might just reach her hand out and squeeze his. Brooke, instead, opens up the napkin and sets it onto her lap. Smoothing it out a few times, she looks up at him.
"I also wanted to let you know that if you were worried I might say something to someone about the true nature of my parentage, you need not worry. I haven't even decided if I am going to discuss it with my mother."

Randall lifts a curious brow at her. There is a glass of ice water already on the table, so he reaches for it and takes a sip, after setting his napkin to his lap. He didn't expect her to be so quick to get the true purpose of their meeting, but he does prefer to not draw these things out.
"If you had a desire to say something publicly regarding our biological relationship, I do believe you would have done so by now. You clearly have no intentions of extorting me, or again, you would have made such a move by now."
Randall gazes at her across the table. "Your demeanor tells me that this not news to which you have recently become privy and therefore you have had time to process it and follow through on those things if either were your intentions. May I inquire, however, how you came to be in possession of such knowledge and also, why you may not wish to speak with your mother about it? Certainly, she would be the more logical recourse, and the more personal connection."

"Precisely." Still, Brooke needed to say that. She wanted to meet him more out of curiosity than anything else, and she needed him to know that she wasn't planning on extorting him, or Reynard International for anything.
"The woman who took me took delight in revealing little known facts to us. Several have confirmed it since then, and while Walter Bishop is listed on my birth record as my father, he isn't genetically a relative." The witch did have Robert run tests, just to further confirm it.
"She would be the more personal connection, but at the same time, she's in a good place in her relationship. I wouldn't want to do anything to detract from that, and I don't want the man who raised me thinking that I consider him less of a father if the truth were to come out."

"Interesting indeed." Randall has not been in continuous contact with The Priory or Bryn Blackwell since the rescue. Only to receive confirmation that his men performed as they should, that Brooke Bishop was safe, and that the 'assailants' had been dealt with. It may behoove him to contact the man and find out about this woman who took part in the abduction. It's a closely guarded secret, the knowledge that he fathered a daughter with a witch and allowed her to be raised by her witch mother. For an unknown stranger to know such information points to a leak within the highest ranks of his personal circle.
It will be investigated.
"Very thoughtful and noble of you." The words are not condescending. "It is sometimes best to leave certain stones unturned."
"To us? You are speaking of the Knightley girl?" It has been a good many years since he's had need to talk to Robert Knightley. The doctor may have changed his name, but he is a Knightley. While the good surgeon's ethics will see that he keeps secrets, it may be necessary to mention to him to impress upon his daughter the need to respect privacy and not gossip as the young of the Upper East Side are so wont to do.

"I figure that this may be a stone best left unturned for everyone involved." Brooke glances at him, then turns just a little to smile at Cindy as the wine is poured and salads are delivered.
"Including myself."
It's not entirely altruistic. She doesn't want to upset her family dynamic. At some point, she may talk to Bridget about it, but for now it's better that she keep this to herself.
"Yes, but I don't think you need to worry about her saying anything. She honestly isn't that type of young woman."

"I will not disagree with you in that regard, Miss Bishop." Yes, it may seem odd to refer to the woman in such a manner, given their relationship, however, Randall does not know her as any more than a name and a face. "A great many people will be left happier if these things are left unshared." It will certainly save tension within his family; he truly has no desire to uproot anyone's life or make anyone uncomfortable outside of his family.
"I will trust your judgment on her discretion," Randall nods his head.

"I know that it's probably unorthodox, but you can call me Brooke, Mr. Reynard." The witch is well aware that in most sorcerer circles, she's just a low-class witch, and hardly worth the bother of formalities. She can accept that quite easily.
Stabbing a leaf of lettuce, she eats quietly for a moment. Washing the bit of salad down with a sip of wine, she glances up at him. The first time she's given him a full look in the eyes.
"To be fair, I don't like feeling beholden to RINC for the help, so if there's an outstanding debt to be paid there, please let me take that on?"

"In that case, Brooke, I must ask that you call me Randall. At least for the duration of our time here." It would hardly be becoming for her to call him that in public, if they should run into one another in a more public setting. Likewise, in such a setting, he will return to calling her 'Miss Bishop.'
Randall follows suit, eating a few bites of salad and dining in the quiet between them. When she looks him fully in the eyes, he pauses, as though anticipating that is preparing to say something.
"You are not indebted to RINC. There is little need for you to worry about such a thing. If it comforts you, then you should know that, officially and on the record, both The Priory and the Knightleys requested assistance. I complied." Unofficially and off the record, Randall fully intended to supply the same help that he had before the request was received. He doesn't say it such aloud, but it is implied in his words.

That surprises her, actually. That off the record he was going to send help. Blinking at him several times, Brooke tips the wine glass up and finishes half the glass before saying anything else.
"Thank you. Again, I mean. I may not have known about the relationship at the time, or what would have caused the help to be offered when it was requested, but I do appreciate it."
"You have three sons, right? One owns that nightclub, Decades? I've been there a few times. His promoter does good work."

"Thanks are not necessary. It's no more than I would have done for my sons." Randall takes another drink from the glass of water, preferring to save the wine for his meal. "However, you are welcome."
"You are a young, beautiful woman with a full life ahead of you. You deserve to live it to the fullest and see your full potential."
The sorcerer enjoys another bite of the salad and then gives her a half-smile. "Two sons. Lucas and Nicholas. Lucas owns a nightclub, yes." Randall doesn't wholly agree with the nightclub business, but it's profitable and it serves as a hobby that keeps Lucas out of trouble. Unlike Nicholas.
His half-smile turns to a wry smile, "Yes, but I do believe that you prefer to frequent Mr. Collins' establishment, Purgatory?"

Brooke isn't certain what Reynard knows about her relationship with Kieran. She's assuming his men would have filled him in on the crazy witch bitch dating the vampire, but in case they haven't, she decides to play it safe.
"It's better for the slightly older crowd. It's awkward, at times, to be clubbing with a group of twenty-one year olds." Or younger. Just because they get into the club doesn't mean that they're able to drink there.
"I also work public relations and promotions for Purgatory, so it pays to spend time there so I can keep an eye on things."

The witch might be surprised at what Randall knows. As the defacto head of RINC and all it's subsidiaries, he has a thumb on the supernatural pulse of the city. Just because sorcerers choose not to intermix with other supernaturals does not mean they are unaware. It would be stupidity to be ignorant of the other factions and motions in the city. It would be doubly ignorant to remain unknowledgable about the oldest known vampire in the New England area and his 'court.'
Randall does not like vampires, nor does he trust them. However, Eclairant is one of the top resturants in the city, and Mr. Collins plays the vampire's masquerade extraordinarily well. Whether the relationship between Brooke and the Vampire Sheriff is legitimate or simply a ruse where both uses the other to get the other hand, Randall has no way of knowing. As such, he will lean to the benefit of the doubt and assume the witch-hybrid has her reasons. The lack of interference from the Coven only seems to underscore this.
"Yes, I've been told that Purgatory is something of a haven for the post-graduate set because of its VIP areas and restriction on those underage. And it would make sense for you to spend time with the properties that you represent."

"Your son, Lucas is… in his mid thirties? Nicholas is… perhaps mid-twenties?" Brooke takes a dainty sip of water, now that she's gotten the jitters from this meeting washed away with the half-glass of wine. "That would put me in the middle of them. It also puts me in the middle of my maternal siblings as well." It's just commenting at this point, she's not really asking many questions.
"It definitely is. Decades should have a VIP area as well, to keep the older crowd that's willing to spend more on the drinks happy with an area of their own."

"You are six years younger than Lucas and four years older than Nicholas, yes," Randall once again shows that he isn't oblivious. He knows her age, he even knows her birthday though he does not admit to that. "Seems you have the double luck of being the middle child."
Randall gives a slight chuckle. "I tend to stay out of Lucas' running of the club, so long as it remains in the black. Perhaps though, I will make a polite, off-hand suggestion."

"I'm guessing your wife didn't, and doesn't know anything about the… affair?" Brooke finishes her salad, setting the plate to the side. Cindy comes to pick it up, topping off both the waters and the wine.
"I mean, that suggests there's ten years between your two boys. Was that on purpose, or just the way fate happened to play out?"
"Excuse me. I know that's wholly inappropriate and personal, but I can't help being curious. We both know that the elephant in the room is that situation. I'd like to know whatever you're willing to share with me."

"Tell me: are you always this intimately inquisitive?" Randall spears the last bit of his salad. The faintest hint of a bemused smile plays on his lips as he chews and finishes off the salad.
"There was a time when my wife and I drifted apart as so many married couples often do." Even more so when those marriages are more political than based in love and affection. Conveniently so that was when he met Brooke's mother. "We eventually found our way back to one another, and our reunion resulted in the birth of Nicholas."
There was another child in there as well, but Randall sees no reason to mention a stillborn babe.
"She learned that there was an affair, but not of your birth." Randall takes a sip of the wine. His wife was not so free of infidelity herself, but again, that goes unspoken.
"I do believe that there is something of a gap between yourself and your younger siblings as well?" He's not trying to cast bad thoughts upon her parents, but rather pointing out that such things do happen in relationships.

"Depending on the situation, I can be." Brooke does figure that this situation warrants it, so that she can at least feel out what the man's intentions were with her mother.
"I do suppose that happens quite often in Dynastic marriages." Bryn has explained them to her well enough. Many of the Dynasties still follow the old ways, and choose brides for their sons based on wealth and societal stock.
"There is. Ten years." The same distance between Lucas and Nicholas.
"Though I do think that was more of a surprise than anything planned." She has no fear of admitting that. Her parents have always been close, but she knows that neither really planned on two more children.
"Would you have done things differently were I born male?"

"I'll endeavour to keep that in mind," Randall says taking another drink of the wine.
"It does." It's a fact of life and Randall says it as such. Dynastic marriages are too often traditionally arranged and political in scope. It's important that the woman is well bred and prepared for being submerged into the world of sorcerers, and that she is properly suited to raising up a new generation of sorcerers as well. Dynasties have formed relationships and alliances with numerous political and financially powerful families over the years, sharing with them the knowledge of the existence of sorcerous magic and power, simply to build bigger, better, strong family trees.
"In the current situation, it would be quite allowed for you to ask what you wish to know: the depth of the relationship I shared with your mother?" Randall is quiet for a moment as Cindy brings out the starters course. "It was not a relationship born of seedy hotels and no more than a physical connection. Despite our … differences … I was quite taken with your mother. We 'clicked' to use the jargon the day."
"If you had been born male, Brooke, things would have been quite different. Prudence and I agreed that you would be sent to the city when you were of the proper age, to receive the sort of education becoming to a young sorcerer. I would have been responsible for paying for and providing that education, as well as your magical training and upbringing."

"That's a little sad, about the marriages I mean. I can't picture a marriage forged of convenience and power over one of true understanding and compatibility." Surprisingly, Brooke doesn't say she can't fathom a relationship not built of true love. She may be a romantic, but she's also a realist. Some people marry because they're compatible enough with another person, and they don't want to wind up alone. "I'm glad that you at least found happiness with Mum, even if it wasn't meant to last."
At that, the witch does reach out to take his hand. It's given a brief squeeze, and then she looks down at the starters.
"Now, here I am, a mixture of both. I have had training in sorcerer magic, though perhaps not as much as I could have."
"Did either of you ever think to have me tested?"

"It is a way of life." Randall uses his knife and fork to cut a bit of asparagus and then grabs the vegetable with the fork. "We do try for compatibility and enjoyment of the other's company. The matches do not come unexpectedly and out of thin air. Although it has been my understanding that many marriages for love and friendship can fall prey to all the same issues. I can say with utmost certainty that my wife is my friend." That may not have always been the case, but it is now.
Randall pauses, glancing down at their hands. He says nothing, and doesn't attempt to draw away, which is saying a great deal. "I quite enjoyed the time I spent with your mother and I believe she enjoyed my company as well. It was a case of wrong time, wrong place." Wrong world, as well, because his father would never have stood for a marriage to a witch unless she forsook her family and the Coven completely.
"I considered Prudence to be the final voice on all things regarding your abilities and training. I'm more versed in the handling of sorcerer magic," Randall gives the woman - his daughter - a slightly bemused smile. "I was told that you had an unusual magical signature, but given your parentage neither of us thought that was so unusual. We didn't really have anyone with which to compare you.
"Speculation that you might be of a dual-nature didn't truly come to the fore until the Knight girl came into her magic and there were murmurings of her 'difference.' By that time you were already well beyond your teen years and a young woman living on her own in the city. We felt it was best to simply monitor."

"That is true. Not all marriages work, no matter the circumstances. At least in your case, you have two sons and a good friendship to show for it." Brooke knows that if there hadn't been an heir, then he likely would've been matched off with someone else after a few years, regardless of the compatibility.
"She would've had to have enjoyed your company, or I wouldn't be here," the witch says, perhaps a little bit cheekily.
"I know my magic. I've been teaching myself since I was twelve. Between the grimoires I slipped away from the attic, and the spells I procure other places, I'm well versed in both types."
She pauses, eating a little before glancing back at him.
"I can understand that. There's no point in upheaving a life just on speculation. What will you do with the knowledge now that you've confirmed it?"

Randall chuckles at her cheekiness. "I have heard that you are something of spitfire. The rumors are not wrong. That particular apple did not fall from the tree?"
Randall eats another few bites of the appetizer and looks curiously at her. "You may be well-versed, but the question is how well-trained are you? Witches can cast our magic, and vice-versa, but we do not feel it in quite the same way. Do you cast it as a sorcerer or as a witch attempting to control sorcerer magic?"
"It's a bit late to spirit you away and train you in the ways of a sorcerer, even if you would be welcomed and accepted with open arms." Randall places his plate to the side, laying the small fork atop of it. "You are an adult woman, Brooke, whatever happens and whatever is known is your decision to make. As you stated, you don't wish to upset your mother or her place in life, so it is unlikely you will be shouting your heritage from the rooftops. However, I am most interested in knowing what you can do, and would be willing to aid you in broadening your knowledge and abilities, if you so desired."

"Depends which tree we're talking about." Brooke does chuckle at that, because she knows her mother well enough to know that Pru'd be just as cheeky when she was younger, and she's no doubt that her biological father can be as well.
"Bryn trained me as well as he could, I think." The witch does have a feeling that her ex has known about her heritage for a while and just didn't say anything out of respect for her family.
"I can cast it either way, and I also have a fairly good control of blood magic, though I don't use it unless absolutely necessary." That is a secret she's kept fairly well hidden. She doubts that Kieran or Bryn are aware of the latter. It's also not something she's saying to impress the man across from her, it's said pretty matter-of-factly.
"I'm fairly certain that certain members of the Coven are aware already. They did send Siobhan to train with me. If that's so, I doubt Mum's place in their ranks will be forfeit if they knew."
"I'd like that, actually. If it wouldn't be troublesome for you?"

"Perhaps both," Randall says with a straight face and an innocent blinking of his eyes. He takes another long swallow from the glass of wine. "Given his age when you were learning, I'm certain that he did do the best that he could. I don't doubt however, that he would be the first to acknowledge gaps and what he would do differently if he had it to do again." It isn't an insult to Blackwell, it's a simple truth. With age comes skill and wisdom; two teenagers working together is often like the blind leading the blind.
"You have …" Randall stops and peers at her, swirling the wine in his glass. "You have worked with blood magic?" He's willing to bet that isn't information that her mother knows, nor the Coven. From his understanding, the Coven would never abide that.
"Without proper training …" Randall trails off, the words spoken more to himself than to Brooke as he gives his head a slight shake.
"Being aware and being public about things are two different matters. You should know that from your PR work."
"I would not have offered if I thought it would be troublesome." He gives her a faint smile. Randall is certain that they can find a business reason to meet. Besides which, very few question his comings and goings.

Brooke smiles thoughtfully, thinking back on things with Bryn. "He would, yes. That's just who he is. If he weren't admitting that things could have been taught in a better manner, he wouldn't be true to himself." Despite their past, she is rather fond of the man still.
"It's dangerous, I know. I've had certain spells since I was sixteen, and I'm generally rather careful with them." There is plenty about her daughter that Prudence doesn't know. Mostly because things like this aren't something she can talk openly with her mother about.
"I'm well aware of the intricacies of it all. At this point, I don't think anyone is really ready for any of this to be a public matter."
"Thank you, Randall. I do appreciate that. Immensely."

"Extremely dangerous," Randall replies. "It's not something you should be messing about with untrained and unguided." He realizes that he is lecturing a thirty year old woman, when he truly has no right, though as one magic user to another, he feels it must be said.
"I'm inclined to agree with you. This would be disrupting if it were to go public."
Randall sets his glass of wine on the table. "You're welcome, though it is the least I can do."

"Likely not, but one rarely learns by being safe all the time," Brooke points out. Taking a sip of the wine, she smiles across at him. It is rather amusing getting the lecture at this point, but she accepts it for what it is; the warning of one magic user to another, not the lecture of a parent.
"I am well aware that there may come a time when it needs to be known. I might suggest that the pertinent parties be informed first, so that no one else attempts to capitalize on it." Randall may be open enough to accept (even privately) that he has a hybrid for a daughter, but she has no doubt that someone else within the incorporation may want to use it against him.
"Not true. The least you could have done was show up, and leave without acknowledging anything at all. Believe me, the offer means a lot."

"That is true. We do tend to learn more from our mistakes than our successes," Randall agrees. "Just remember, that some mistakes can be more costly than others."
"When that time comes, I will certainly see that all pertinent parties on my behalf are forewarned and well informed." He only needs to concern himself with his father, and if Brooke is as powerful as Randall believes she might be, it won't be an overall bad thing. His father is wise enough to see and court opportunity when it appears. The man may no longer be hands on with the company, but he is still the partriarch.
"I could have, but there seemed to be little point in doing such a thing. If I wished to snub you, it would have been easier to decline the meeting."
"In all honesty, I was curious to meet you."

"I promise I'll remain careful and ever vigilant when working with blood magic." Brooke considers for a moment, opening her mouth to say something else. Cindy chooses that time to slip in quietly with the main courses, and she gives them both a little smile.
Once their waitress has scurried away, she clears her throat and sips from he glass of wine.
"I am a very fast study when it comes to magic. If you have ways which I could utilize the magic without it being so dangerous, I'd be happy to work on that."
"So like me, you see that it is an inevitability that it'll become common or public knowledge at some point. To be honest, I'm surprised that it hasn't been made so already, but I'm guessing that's because we lived so far out of the city."
Setting her glass down, the witch picks up her knife and cuts into her meal.
"I was curious as well, and I'm gad I invited you to lunch." If nothing else comes of it, she's at least happy that the affair was more than just a hook up for her mother, and that it meant something. That she wasn't just an unwanted accident that was kept on the off chance she might be male.

"See that you are," Randall says quietly. "I know it would be quite heartbreaking to your mother were something to happen to you that could have been otherwise avoided."
Randall eats quietly for a few moments, merely watching the young woman - his daughter - seated across from him. "You sound exceptionally confident." He takes a swallow of wine. "Confidence is a good thing."
"Before we are done here, we can check our schedules and discover a time when we may meet again. A location of the meeting and an appropriate excuse would also be very good."
"People tend to see and hear what they wish to see and hear. It's not entirely surprising."
The sorcerer delves into his meal again and chews thoughtfully. Washing it down with wine, he gives Brooke a wry smile. "Curious to see if I were as much of an ass and the big bad wolf as I am made out to be?"

The second warning, the quieter one, causes Brooke to still for a moment and raise her blue eyes to his face. He's passing it off as concern for her mother, but the witch almost wonders if he's more involved in her life than she's even aware.
"I know my abilities for learning. I generally only need to read a spell once and I can reproduce it. Not perfectly, but I've only had a few give me difficulties. Those were more due to language than anything else."
Knowing that she can likely clear her schedule more easily than he can, she gives a brief nod to that. "From what I know, your son Nicholas is a bit of a playboy? One that often finds himself in trouble? I know you have your own public relations within RINC, but having an outsider who happens to work at a club he might frequent wouldn't be unfounded, even if that PR person happens to be a sorcerer-sympathetic witch." It's no secret that Brooke and Bryn had planned on marrying once upon a time. She knows that would've made waves within nearby Dynasties, so she can easily be painted that way.
"Partially, yes. You are a Reynard, and as a whole, your family has made quite a name for themselves."
"Also, curious as to what happened between yourself and my mother. To see if it were more than what it was made out to be by my captors."

Randall hasn't been ignorant of her life. Uninvolved, yes, but that was an agreement with Prudence and a reflection of the necessity of keeping things somewhat clandestine. She is his blood, even before the knowledge of her dual-abilities came to the fore. That is why he intended on assisting with her recovery no matter what.
"Then I look forward to putting your abilities to the test."
Randall gives another wry smile, appreciating her tact in that matter. Nicholas is an arrogant, spoiled brat with a penchant of making the news for all the wrong reasons. He may love his son, but the boy is a product of smothering by his mother, and perhaps his father's distraction with molding Lucas. "No, such a thing would make absolute sense, all things considered."
He takes another bite, chews and swallows. "It did not happen overnight. I am the product of generations of Reynards and hard work. I do assure you, I am only an ogre on the outside. It's sometimes required."
"I do hope that I have assauged whatever false claims might have been seeded. As wrong as some people may consider it - an extramarital affair - it felt right to Prudence and I at the time."

"So do I."
That, above all else, is what cinches the deal for Brooke. She's not at all certain whether to trust the man across from her — her biological father — but she does know that he can assist her in strengthening her sorcerer magic.
"Then it might not be a surprise if we had a meeting now and then. I'm certain I can find an appropriate space. Perhaps a conference room somewhere, or just a place where you can 'view footage' privately, on the off chance there is something you need to have removed in order to keep your son out of the tabloids."
A half-grin is given, because while she may not be dominant, or manipulative, she does know her business well.
"You have. And you've definitely ensured that I will look forward to meeting with you again."

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