Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
“He shared all this with you?”
Dad nodded. “Recently, yes, after I phoned and told him I was working with Judge. Did…Judge not share this with you?”
“We’re not that close,” I prevaricated, not meeting his eyes as I put my water down.
And I didn’t ask, I thought but didn’t add.
Then again, Judge had reasons to keep things from me too. Private things his family didn’t want public.
Though, this all sounded like it happened out in the open.
Which was worse.
Way worse.
“Jamie remarried,” Dad continued. “Not the woman he’d cheated with, another one. A couple of years ago, she died of breast cancer. I met her too. They were very close. Been married nearly two decades, but they acted like newlyweds.”
Much like you and Mom, before that turned to shit.
Though I found it interesting he mentioned not the woman he cheated with.
I wasn’t sure how that was relevant.
Though I was sure how Dad saying it was relevant to me.
The server came with our drinks.
It was a gin-themed night.
G&T for dad, Pink Lady for me.
We ordered our appetizers (another theme, I was having lobster bisque with my lobster) and the server moved away.
Dad lifted his glass my way. “Here’s to the prettiest girl in the world.”
That always got me.
Thus, I smiled and tipped my glass his way. “Here’s to the best dad in history.”
He returned my smile.
We drank.
Then Dad launched in. “Are you not interested in him?”
Yes.
Dad liked Judge.
Or maybe partly it was that, and partly it was the fact he really did not like any of the artists and assholes I’d previously dated.
Hesitantly, I reminded him, “He works with Duncan.”
“Duncan was in on this setup, honey,” Dad pointed out.
I closed my mouth.
“All right, I’ll let it go,” Dad relented. Such a soft touch, Tom Pierce. “I’m just going to say one thing.”
Not totally soft, though.
I rolled my eyes.
His lips tipped up as he watched me do this.
But he got serious when he said, “You seemed very comfortable with him.”
Oh Lord.
“I’ve never seen you that way with a man.”
Oh Lord!
“And, I don’t know what you two were talking about outside, but he was hanging on every word you said.”
I looked away, unable to take staring at my father while he said these things about the man I could not have.
“I don’t think Duncan would mind if you wanted to go out with him,” Dad finished.
I was still trying to hide from my father at the same time as I was in the same booth with him when something hit me.
I looked directly back at Dad.
“What other things was she using it for?”
“Pardon?”
“Judge’s mother. The money. You said, ‘when she wasn’t using it for other things.’ What other things was she using it for?”
My father didn’t answer at first.
And when he spoke, he still didn’t.
He asked his own question.
“Are you sure you’re not interested in Judge?”
“Dad, just answer me.”
“I’m uncomfortable doing that if you intend to see him. Although it’s widely known and would be an easy deep dive with a simple Google search, much of what I told you is his to tell. Especially that.”
“We’re not seeing each other, and we won’t be.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes,” I gritted.
“Why?”
Because he’s marvelous, and what happens to me when I get used to that marvelous? When it’s my life? When I count on it being there every day? And then he breaks my heart? I don’t have a childhood sweetheart to rediscover.
I’ll be lost.
Alone.
And broken.
Naturally, I said none of these things to my dad.
“He’s not my type,” I said instead.
“Please know this is coming from an honest, loving place when I say, I’m not certain that’s a bad thing.”
I clicked my teeth in irritation.
Dad ignored that.
“I’ll finish that by saying, if you’re attracted to him, you should consider it. Life is a risk. But you win nothing if you don’t risk anything.”
“I’m putting that on your coffee mug this Christmas,” I kidded.
There was thoughtfulness in his eyes even as he smiled at my reference to Sully and Gage’s Christmas presents to us all: personalized coffee mugs, most of which had things we’d said that they’d thought was hilarious on them.
The one they’d given me didn’t go with either my office or home décor.
But at home, red with black lettering that said, I’m Going to Have to Get You in Hand, one of the first things I’d ever said to Gage, it was the only one I drank from.
“Now, as promised, enough about that,” Dad finally ended it.
“So, tell me about Judge’s mother and the money,” I kept at it.
“Maybe you should reflect on why you want to know so badly,” he muttered.
I needed no reflection.
I knew why.
It just didn’t matter.
“I can hear you,” I singsonged, and when he gave me a knowing smirk, I went on, “And that isn’t telling me.”
Dad looked me straight in the eye and said, “Belinda Oakley is an addict, Chloe. Her settlement was millions, child support was thousands a month. Judge went to university at eighteen and never came back, so child support ceased. She still should have had enough to live on very comfortably until she died. But now, she lives in a town outside Dallas and works as a waitress in a diner. It’s cliché. It’s also the terrible truth.”