Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“So, allow me to explain how this is going to go. You and my mother are never going to see my son. You are never going to speak to him. You are never going to touch him. He is not going to be a part of your life. I’m not either. When I hang up this phone, you do not exist for us. If I hear from you again, Time or Sixty Minutes or Barbara Walters or someone is going to have an exclusive about how I elevated myself from my upbringing by two abusive hillbillies who knocked the crap out of their son from the time he was a toddler. I might even hire a ghostwriter to write a tell-all book. However it comes about, the world will know what monsters you are.”
His father didn’t speak.
Corey did.
“I have to admit, I’d like to do this anyway, considering how deeply you deserve everyone to know you’re trash. But I need to protect my son, so I’ll use this ace to keep him safe. Now, did you understand all those words?”
“That would devastate your mother. She—”
“Do you honestly think I give a fuck?” Corey cut him off to inquire. “You were worse, but she wasn’t much better.”
His father fell silent.
“I need to hear the words,” Corey prompted. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” his dad bit off.
“Fantastic. Goodbye then, Dad,” Corey said, then he turned off the portable phone.
He didn’t call Genny.
He put the phone back on charge and walked up the stairs.
The stuffed lion was so huge, with it and Hale in the same bed, there wasn’t room for anything else. His son’s bedroom was illuminated by a nightlight that projected stars all over the ceiling and walls, something Corey saw and decided Hale had to have because he wanted his son to understand the sky was the limit. Always.
He stood by his boy’s bed, gazing down at him. Hale looked innocent and so young, with that thick hank of brown hair that was the exact same color as Corey’s.
He reached out to smooth back a lock that had fallen on Hale’s forehead, but seeing his adult hand moving toward his child’s face, something made him pull away.
It was all right.
He would never.
Not ever.
But…just in case.
He pulled up the covers instead. Adjusted the lion so it was closer.
And with his son safe and sleeping after having fun at the fair, Corey left the room and went back downstairs.
CHAPTER 29
BIRTHDAY CAKE
Hale
Now…
His mother chose a Greek place in Pasadena for them to meet.
He remembered that place. It was her favorite. He knew this because, if she had him on his birthday, that was where they went.
Hale liked Greek, but he’d always buried he had issues with a candle in a piece of baklava acting as his cake. One of his favorite things was a white birthday cake with tons of frosting. Birthday cake was his favorite flavor of ice cream, he liked it so much.
He didn’t have to worry, when Genny got her hands on him, she always had a birthday cake ready for him.
And if his dad had him for his birthday, it would be on the counter in the kitchen when he got home from school. Always extravagant. Generous swirls of frosting. Tons of sprinkles.
Sure, their housekeeper ordered it, went out and got it and put it there, but he knew his dad made it happen.
He knew because Hale had confessed to him about the baklava.
“You okay?” Elsa asked into this memory.
He stretched his neck on either side and said, “I had a lot of birthdays here.”
“There isn’t an underlying vibe of remembered joy in the way you said that,” she pointed out, watching him closely.
“For future reference, I really like birthday cake. White cake. Lots of frosting. And unleash the sprinkles.”
He watched her mouth thin as what he didn’t say sunk in.
“If I was with Dad, he always made sure I had that kind of cake.” He adjusted his menu that was lying in front of him. “It’s uncomfortable having memories surface of how he cared, which means I didn’t notice it before, and he had to know I didn’t notice.”
“I don’t know how to respond to that, honey,” she replied.
“You don’t have to respond.”
“Okay, but at this juncture, I feel I need to make note that if you were a shit son, he wouldn’t have given you the empire he built. But more, he wouldn’t have given you what was in that box.”
This was true.
“Yeah,” he murmured, and went in to touch his lips to hers.
Samantha Wheeler walked in not long after that, and he saw she wasn’t happy to start.
Her eyes fell on Hale, with Elsa sitting next to him on one side of a four-top, and she became less happy.
Hale stood when she arrived, she handed out perfunctory greetings, and he was pleased when her gaze moved to Elsa’s injured hand as she sat down, and then she asked, “I heard about the incident. Are you all right?”