Dad’s lips quirked at my title for him, but they did this as he studied me closely.
“Or, say, you might have mentioned it,” I kept at him.
“He didn’t grow up with his dad, honey.”
Oh Lord.
Judge hadn’t mentioned that either.
“Jamie married his high school sweetheart,” Dad continued. “I met her that night. She was gorgeous. And totally vacant. Seen it before, Valium trance. She was zoned out.”
Oh my God.
“Big scandal.” Dad shifted in his seat. I’d know why when he said uncomfortably, “Jamie cheated on her. But honestly, until very recently, I didn’t know if she divorced him, or he divorced her. But it was the latter.”
I stared at him.
Judge hadn’t shared any of this.
Then again, I didn’t ask.
I’d been all about me.
All about pretending I wasn’t attracted to him.
All about my Cooking Club. My friends. My brunch. My shopping.
My issues.
And, I had to admit, my varied tests for him.
All of which he had passed.
I had asked the five top things about him, and I could understand why one didn’t choose to reveal in that short discourse, “My dad cheated on my mom and then we split New York City.”
He’d been very attentive, inquisitive, he seemed to enjoy meeting my friends, being at my side as I lived my life.
But he’d never volunteered a single thing.
“Jamie and I were more than acquaintances,” Dad told me. “But we weren’t quite friends either. We were in that in between. Until, I should say, recently.”
Until recently.
“Why recently?”
“He called after Sam did what she did on that gossip show.”
Wonderful.
But that made sense.
Judge’s cheating father called my cheating father after my father’s cheating became public.
We’d quashed it.
Still.
“He had some advice to share,” Dad said carefully.
“Well, good.” I reached for my water. “It’s nice to have friends who understand.”
“Right,” Dad said quietly.
I sipped my water.
Mercifully, Dad returned to the subject at hand.
“When Judge didn’t say anything, I didn’t mention meeting him when he was young because his relationship with his father is strained.”
More I never bothered to find out.
Dad kept speaking.
“Jamie didn’t want to lose his boy, Chloe, but he did. The divorce was acrimonious. Out there. Picked over. Ugly. And the ensuing battles were lengthy. She fought for custody. She fought for money. She won. Then she kept fighting at every turn. It’s my understanding she moved with Judge back to Texas, where she and Jamie grew up. It’s also my understanding things did not go well there, and Jamie was not happy she’d moved his son that far away from him. He was less pleased that she used every dime she won in the settlement to keep Judge from him, when she wasn’t using it for other things. And even worse, how it ended up that the only father figure Judge really had was his granddad, AJ.”
“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.”
“Good Lord,” I breathed.
“This gives indication why Judge never went back,” Dad remarked. “Now, in all fairness to Judge, even if you two aren’t going to become an item, you still have to work together on our project, and this isn’t right. Enough. Let it go and let’s enjoy dinner.”
I nodded absently.
I was absent because I was thinking.
I knew Judge’s father was a billionaire, I did not know he was from Texas.
I knew nothing about the mom.
Or this AJ granddad person.
And now I wondered if Judge had been okay with me making it plain we weren’t going to carry on because he had a moment to think about what a self-centered harpy I was.
My bisque came along with Dad’s shrimp cocktail.
We ate.
We had father-daughter time.
I settled in the knowledge that at least one night this week, my father wasn’t home, alone, knowing his ex-wife, the love of his life was loved up in the mountains, looking forward to planning a wedding to another man.
I attempted to make our time jovial and fun for him, even if I couldn’t quite stop being distracted.
Dad was a dad and, indeed, the best father in history.
So, at the evening’s end, before he helped me into my car, right after he kissed my cheek, he whispered in my ear, “Take a risk, give him a chance.”
I pulled my head back and looked into his beautiful eyes.
Eyes he’d given me.
I then smiled but said nothing.
I just got in my car, and he watched me drive away.
* * *
As I was driving home, my phone buzzed with a text.
It was somewhat late, not too late, still, I was surprised.
I was more surprised when I checked it after I walked into my house.
It was from Gage.
Buckle up, we’re hanging out this weekend.
This made me smile because Gage was a good time.
He was young (nineteen), but sweet and still pliable.
I had many things to teach my green grasshopper.
This weekend (or at least Saturday) was the perfect time to pick up our lessons.
I was putting down my clutch and turning on a light when another text came in.
This also from Gage.
Because you need brother time seeing as Matt’s being a total dick.
Oh dear.
I was about to reply, but I got another text.
From Sully.
Now, Sully was an entirely different kettle of fish.
His text proved it.
FaceTime, now.
And then my phone rang with a FaceTime call.
“Merde,” I bit, rearranged my expression to severe and took the call. “Sullivan, do I need to explain why women don’t like to be treated as on demand?”
He had no response to that.
He had other things to say.
“You know, it’s not my deal. I barely know your dad, though he seems a cool guy to me. It’s their deal. I’m not butting into that. But fuck this shit with Matt being an asshole to you.”
“Sully,” I whispered.
“No,” he clipped. “And you know, Sasha needs to get her head out of her ass too. I’ve been through a divorce. I get it. It sucks. It’s out of your control and everyone is hurting, and it’s not in your control to make that stop either. You don’t lash out when that shit’s going down, especially at each other. And by that, I mean siblings. Gage and I were always tight, but during the divorce, we got tighter. Because we were looking out for each other. We didn’t plan it or talk about it, we just did it. Because we’re brothers. You seem like you’re always wearing armor. Impenetrable. But anyone who cares about you knows that’s for show. So they should know your armor has vulnerabilities. And they sure as shit shouldn’t use that knowledge to aim a kick at your soft spots.”
I said nothing.
But what I thought was, my new brother had just gone through a breakup, a Christmas blow his girlfriend had landed right before he’d flown home to be with his family, and Sullivan was undoubtedly still wounded from that.
When I’d first seen him after he’d returned home, it didn’t say much about me, but I’d wanted to find her and put Nair in her shampoo bottle.
To start.
However, this occurrence made me vow (and this phone conversation cinched it), when Sullivan found the one he thought was actually the one, I was putting her through a test of fire only the most pure of heart would survive.
And she had better pass with flying colors.
Or I was poisoning her.
I’d do my time if caught (though I would never get caught).
But Sully was only going to have the best.
For the rest of his life.
“And don’t be pissed at me for wading in,” he ordered. “We’re family now, Coco, and I am not fucking down with Matt taking his shit out on you and dragging Sasha in to help him do it.”
“How do you know about this?” I asked.
“Yeah, let’s talk about that. What the fuck with you not calling?”
I was quiet again.
“Matt was over, we were having some beers,” he belatedly answered. “Sasha called, and he put her on speaker so we could all talk together. They started in on you, and I laid them out then asked Matt to leave. Sasha was a mess. But fuck it. She’s old enough to know better.”
Sully was one year older than her, so he’d know.
Not to mention, he was correct.
“You asked Matt to leave?”
“Did you tell him to talk to your dad?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s it?”
“For the most part, to my recollection.”
“And he’s pissing and moaning about that? If Gage was carrying a grudge for…fucking…ever, I’d tell him to sort his shit too.”
It was then I realized.
He was a firstborn, the responsible one, the protector.
The same as me.
I had someone who got it.
I could not talk to him about Susan Shepherd. I could not rope him into maybe (or discuss the merits of maybe not) getting involved with that with Dad. And as such, I couldn’t discuss the pros and cons of making a call to the mysterious Rhys Vaughan. And because Sullivan was so protective (case in point, this call), I couldn’t tell him about Vaughan at all.
Dangerous mystery man who lands a file on me that the only thing it didn’t include on my father’s lover was her bra size, then he shows at my shop exuding menace and making me wonder if he’s who James Bond was after, or who Bond wished he was…
Sully would lose his mind.
And absolutely I couldn’t talk to him about Judge.
But I could talk to him about this.
“Obviously, I need a cocktail to fully commit to my pissing and moaning about how infantile my brother and sister are being.”
Sullivan’s lips twitched and he replied, “Obviously.”
Even though it was much later in Indiana, I went to the kitchen.
Sully kept talking.
“You should know, Gage is coming up this weekend. He says he’s taking you ‘on the town.’ Prepare to party in someone’s garage.”
I started chuckling.
But I felt better than I had in days.
“And I want you to think about coming out for a visit,” he carried on.
“To Indiana?” I asked, aghast.
He laughed. “Yes, to Indiana. I’ll take you to Harry’s. And we’ll drive down to Indy. On tours, they take you in a van around the track at the 500.”
“This is not a selling point, Sullivan.”
He laughed more.
I made my cocktail.
And yes, as we chatted, it started seeping in.
Feeling loved.
Looked after.
Not alone.
Understood.
Definitely.
I felt better than I had in days.
But when it was over.
When it was dark and I was in bed, a bed that was empty, save for me.
I didn’t feel better at all.
Chapter 16
The Lunch
Corey
Three and a half years ago…
Chloe had picked the restaurant.
But of course she had.
He’d heard about it.
And what he’d heard, it was superb.
They had a two-top table. He’d arrived before she did, selecting the chair on the outside that would face the booth bench on the inside that sat against the side wall.
He made this selection not only because the lady should get the better seat, but also so people could look at her, and with Chloe being Chloe, they might not notice Corey at all.
He saw her in the gold marbled mirror above the bench seat, making her way to the table.
Dark hair falling in waves and curls over her shoulders. A pair of oversized, cropped jeans with wide hems that displayed to their utmost her brown crocodile pumps. An asymmetrical cardigan that buttoned on a slant to the tip of her shoulder, had long, slouchy arms, and some added bit that fell off the back on one side to wind around and dangle down the other arm like a shawl. It ended above her waistband.
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