The Secret Arrangement

by Vanessa Waltz

  "Oh, how nice." I ignore Saffie, who pinches my side. "When’s she coming back?"

  "Couple weeks," he says. "Just in time for the start of training."

  I’m surprised a woman like Gisele would hang around him a second longer than she needed. He could be saving face. "It's hard to believe she’d drop everything to visit her family. She was raving about the Fourth of July party."

  Henry’s words turn hostile. "She had to get back."

  "Oh, no," Jessica gasps at his grim tone. "What happened?"

  "Her aunt’s sick. She was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer last year," Henry says, lying through his teeth.

  "That’s awful. Where’s the hospital? I want to send flowers."

  "Me too!" Jessica chimes in. "She’s such a wonderful person."

  Forced laughter bursts out of Henry’s lips. "Thanks, but she’s not really a flower kind of girl."

  I lower my voice. "It’s the thought that counts, dude. Besides, they’ve all kinds of sympathy arrangements these days. Hell, we could send her a video from the team."

  "That’s a cute idea!" Jessica clasps her hands together. "She’ll love it."

  "Excuse us for a second."

  Henry glowers behind his beer as I grab Saffie’s elbow and walk her to the table with treats.

  She glances back, laughing. "You’re such an ass."

  I watch Henry’s face glow bright red as Luke and Jessica badger him, smirking. Then I pick at the cupcakes, selecting a deep-blue one. Saffie stares at the food. "I don’t want to mess up my makeup."

  "Maybe we should’ve listened when the invitation said to dress casually."

  Saffie groans. "How was I supposed to know what they meant? Rich people’s casual is poor man’s upscale."

  "Eat a cupcake. Go on. They won't look twice if you smear buttercream all over your face."

  She grabs one and takes a bite so small that I burst out laughing.

  "I’m glad you’re both having fun." A nasal voice saps the warmth from the air. Henry’s back, annoyed.

  "You again." My smile evaporates.

  He tilts his head. "Nice to know you don’t appreciate me saving your ass, yet again. Saffie, are you ready to meet Father?"

  The happy gleam fades from her eyes. "I-I don’t know. I thought I wanted to see him, but—"

  "Saffie, we’ve been over this. He needs this meeting before offering a job."

  "No."

  Henry frowns. "What do you mean, no?"

  "I don’t think I want it anymore. Not from you."

  "Is this about the interview?" Henry blocks her escape. "I’m sorry, but it needed to be done. He’s one of the most talented players on the team."

  "I am the best," I grunt. "That’s why you were always willing to clean up my mess."

  Henry screws up his face in annoyance. "Saffie, I promised you a job. I know you’re not happy with me, but I won’t go back on my word."

  She stares at him. "Like how you kept your promise to Gisele? I thought having you in my life would be a good thing, but more and more I realize it’s been a mistake."

  Frustrated, Henry drops his beer on the table. "What are you talking about?"

  "You told Luke you had no idea where I was. Why would you do that?"

  Because he’s an asshole.

  A shadow crosses his face. "I didn’t want you around."

  Saffie’s voice wavers. "She was my mother, too. I lost her. Everyone seems to forget about that."

  There’s not a shred of sympathy in his eyes. "I never agreed to Dad cutting you off. You’re still a Pardini, but you haven’t been part of this world for years. What makes you think you can waltz into this family and trade numbers with my cousin?"

  "He’s my cousin, too. Jesus, Henry. If they want me in their life, that’s none of your damn business."

  His lips curl. "You don’t fit in."

  "You hate me." Saffie inhales sharply. "That’s fine. For the record, I’m not a fan of you either. I didn’t think you’d grow into such a selfish, weak asshole."

  Henry flinches. "Keep your voice down."

  "I wish you would have just told me on the phone before inviting me to stay at your house. It would’ve saved me a lot of grief."

  Saffie’s pale cheeks flush at all the concerned faces turned toward her, and she stalks out of the backyard. I follow her inside as she retreats into a quiet corner, her hands shaking.

  I cover them with mine. "You said you wouldn’t make a scene."

  She chokes on her laughter. "You’re right. I shouldn’t have come."

  "It’s not that bad. You got in touch with your cousin. There are more people here who love and miss you. Give them a chance, Saffie."

  The marble floor reflects her heartbroken voice. "This whole summer would have been a train wreck without you. I can’t thank you enough for just being in my life."

  A tear tracks down her face, and I grasp her narrow chin. "Me too, Saff."

  She raises her head, kissing me. My lips crash against hers, something deeper than desire taking root inside me. There’ll be more parties than this one, hundreds more, and then it comes to me like a thunderbolt to my brain.

  I have a family. A wonderful, loving family. If that’s what she wants, I’ll give it to her.

  We break apart. A shy smile curves her lips, as though she senses the shifting energy between us.

  "Oh. It’s you." A bald man dressed in an immaculate suit faces Saffie.

  She whitens, her grip tightening over my arm. "Dad."

  14

  Saffie

  He winces at the word as though it causes him physical pain. The years we spent apart haven’t softened my father, who always spoke with an authoritative thunder. Though he can’t threaten me anymore, my limbs shake.

  He’s still my dad. Time has grayed his wings, turning his hair a silvery blond. Age spots appear like faint bruises near his eyes, and his skin is paper-thin. I’ve seen his picture many times over the years, studied his face for a hint of sadness. Remorse.

  A shock runs through me to witness how much he’s aged. "Henry told me you’d be attending."

  "Yes."

  "Come. I’ve arranged for a private dinner." With a sweeping grace, he walks up the marble staircase.

  My insides feel hollow. The indifference is worse than the hate-filled bilge I expected him to spew at the sight of me. He greets me with the politeness of a boss with his lower-level employee, which I suppose I’ll be if I take the job.

  Grayson rubs my back as I ascend the stairs, following Dad into an elaborate dining room. An Edwardian table stands over an antique rug. The chairs are solid wood with leather padding. Everything looks too expensive to touch. Porcelain plates with gold trimmings, polished silverware, and crystal wine goblets sit on the table.

  Henry sits. My father takes the seat to his left.

  Where the hell am I supposed to go? Should I take the chair next to the man who told me he never wanted to see me again?

  I choose the slightly friendlier option—my brother. He glowers at Grayson, who pulls my seat out. I sink into the cushion and clench my fists, forcing a smile as people I don't know filter into the room.

  "Saffie, these are my colleagues at Pardini & Associates. That’s Hardy—Jim, be a good fellow and wave, thank you. Steve Granger to his left, and Katrina Adams."

  My mouth goes dry. I didn’t realize this was a meet and greet. "Nice to meet you."

  A man sitting across squints at me. "She’s your daughter, right?"

  Dad’s lips thin, and he gives a quick jerk of his head. "I went over your resume last night, Saffie. Impressive."

  My head reels with the strangeness of talking to him about work. I haven’t seen him in ages, and he wants to discuss my goddamn CV? "How did you get that?"

  "Your LinkedIn profile." He smiles at the waitress as she serves bowls of salad. "Luckily, we have a position opening for a junior associate."

  My job at the nonprofit firm qualifies me for a higher
post, actually. I glance at Grayson, who gives me a grim smile.

  Dad clears his throat, and I face him. "That’s great, but I need time to think about it."

  "What’s there to think about? You’d be working at one of the best law firms in San Francisco."

  I dig my nails into my thigh. "I’m not sure I want to be a lawyer anymore."

  My dad’s fork clatters against the bowl. "What? That’s ridiculous—what would you do for a living?"

  Shame swallows my face as he glares at me. "I always wanted to work with animals."

  "I can’t believe this," he says, balling the napkin on his lap. "Henry told me you wanted a job!"

  "And I do—but not this one."

  His colleagues stop chewing. My sympathy goes to a man who looks like he’s going to choke.

  "Be sensible. You won’t get an opportunity like this in your lifetime. It’s not a good time to be a lawyer."

  You should’ve thought of that before forcing me on that path. "Sorry, but I don’t want the job."

  "Charles," says Steven. "Maybe we should leave you alone."

  "Nobody moves." Dad glances at Henry, who shrugs. "What the hell happened?"

  "Nothing." Henry throws me an exasperated look. "She changed her mind, I guess. Who cares?"

  He slams his fist into the table, making the plates rattle. "I paid for your law school, and this is how you thank me? By snubbing your nose at my firm?"

  "Dad—it’s not what I want to do!"

  "Why are you doing this?" he snarls. "To spite me, I suppose. Yes, well, you’ve always been an ungrateful, nasty human being with only enough foresight for yourself!"

  Grayson grabs my balled fist, stroking my clenched fingers.

  "You’re the one who cut me out."

  He rolls his eyes. "Did I not pay for your education? Make sure you were clothed and fed the entirety of your life? Your failure to secure a living is just that—your failure."

  Blood rushes to my face as he blasts me as though I’m a teenager and not a full-grown woman. Grayson was right. This was a huge mistake. He still thinks of me as a nuisance dropped on his lap, not the daughter he once loved.

  I’m nothing to him.

  Unhappy faces surround the dinner table. Even Henry looks uncomfortable.

  A halfhearted smile tugs at Steven’s lips. "We don’t have to discuss it now."

  "This is the only reason I’m here!" My father throws the napkin over his plate.

  Henry straightens in his chair. "I don’t see what the big deal is. She’ll breed cats or whatever the hell she wants, and that’s that."

  Dad massages his forehead. "Son, you are hopelessly naive."

  Hollowness pits my gut as Grayson squeezes my hand again and again. He wants me to stand. A sick part of me craves the abuse. Maybe if he hurts me enough, I’ll never long for a family again.

  "I’m sorry for wasting your time," I tell the men sitting across me. "Thank you for the opportunity."

  "This is madness." Dad’s fork clatters the bowl again. The server stoops to take it away, and he nearly slaps her hand. "No, just go away!"

  Clutching Grayson, I stand from the table. "We should go."

  Dad glowers at me. "The least you could do is sit out one dinner."

  Why does he even care about this?

  "We’ll leave." His colleagues scrape back chairs. "Don’t worry about it, Charles."

  "No, you can’t possibly—"

  "Everybody has friction with their kids, believe me," Steven says good-naturedly. "See you on Wednesday. Best of luck to you, Saffie!"

  Stricken, my father watches them go. Once their seats are empty and their footsteps gone, Dad turns his livid gaze toward me. "Well, then. I hope you’re pleased. You’ve embarrassed me in front of my colleagues." Dad takes a swig of his glass, its contents spilling from the rim when he slams it down.

  I stare at him. "None of this makes me happy."

  Grayson leans over the table. "Might’ve been best to leave the work friends at home for a family reunion."

  "Mr. Shaw, you’ve gotten my son in enough trouble this year, so I’d appreciate it if you kept quiet."

  Henry buries his face in his hands. "Dad, please let it go."

  My phone chimes in my purse. Desperate to distract myself, I open my bag and read the notification banner across the dark screen.

  TMZ: SF GRIZZLIES CAPTAIN KNOCKED UP TEAMMATE’S GIRL!

  My jaw drops. "Oh my God."

  Henry and my Dad glance at me, irritated. "What?"

  Over my shoulder, I listen to Grayson's gust of barely contained laughter. "Jesus."

  "What is it?" Henry demands, impatient.

  "There’s something on—"

  Henry’s phone blares with an obscenely loud tune that makes Dad wince. "It’s my publicist," he says, staring at the cell. He answers the call. "Hello? Wait, what? Someone sold a—where?"

  He puts the man on speaker as he thumbs through the screen, typing in an address. The story splashes on the phone and Henry moans in despair.

  "Henry, listen. These things happen, and it’s all part of the game, but we gotta do damage control."

  "Jesus Christ," Henry groans. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

  "What the hell happened?" Dad roars.

  The voice with a Southern drawl continues. "Now, there’s no need to use the Lord’s name in vain like that. I’ve got you covered, brother. You’ll be on the Today show on Friday. The View said they’d be interested in an appearance. We’re going to nip this in the bud. That’s why you hired me."

  Henry seizes his call, screaming into the speaker. "My sponsors won’t give a flying fuck about what those crones on the View think. Whoever the hell it was leaked everything. I’m finished!"

  The phone crackles with the publicist’s languid voice. "You’re not done, Henry. You fucked up, and I won’t sugarcoat it. You’ll lose Nike and Gap. As for the league, we’ll deal with those fees as they come, but for now—"

  "Wait," Henry blurts. "What fees?"

  Laughter interrupts his stunned silence. "Well, you had relations with your teammate’s girlfriend. That goes against the league’s code of conduct policy. Don’t sweat it; they give fines for offensive tweets. There’s no way you’re walking out of one."

  Moaning, Henry sinks into his chair. "How much?"

  "'Bout fifty grand—but that’s nothing! You make that in a week. Listen, I can hear you getting agitated. I need you to keep a low profile this weekend. Don’t go to no bars or restaurants, just stay out of sight."

  "Fine," he snarls.

  The voice continues in its chipper tones. "We’ll fix this, Henry. I’m already writing a tweet for you to publish to your followers. Sitting on this story will do you a world of hurt, so make sure you get this out there. People respect a man who owns up to his mistakes."

  I watch as Henry seizes the nearly empty glass of wine and drains it. "Okay. Fine."

  "All right. You have a good day."

  Henry ends the call, a stunned silence filling the room until Dad breaks it with a sigh and a weary shake of his head. "You stupid boy. I told you to give NDAs like candy."

  I glance at Grayson, who sits in his chair, smirking. He couldn't look more smug. "I guess things come full circle, don’t they?"

  "You did this?" Henry’s seat collapses as he stands.

  "Yeah, like I need more fucking drama in my life. No, you moron, I wouldn’t sell a story to the press."

  Dad’s hollow laughter rings across the table as he shuts his eyes. When they open, they’re staring at me. "She did it."

  Henry turns toward me, wild-eyed. "What?"

  "She did it, you idiot. That’s why she won’t take the job." Disgust fills his voice. "How much did they pay you? Enough to not worry about work for two years, I’ll bet."

  The blood drains from my face. "I would never do that."

  Henry’s stare glazes with hurt. "This will ruin me. How could you do this after I let you in my house?"

  "I did
n’t do it!" After being his maid for the summer, he’s going to believe this? "I might be broke, but that’s one step too far."

  "You’re such a liar." Dad clenches his wine glass in his fist. "This has always been about money. That’s why she’s with your teammate, and why she sold that story."

  "Are you both out of your minds?" My shouts ring in my ears. "I wanted a family. A job. Not to earn three hundred grand on drama. Jesus, Henry. I’ve only spent the last couple weeks doing everything I can to keep this team together."

  "You hear that?" Father booms, gesturing toward me. "That’s the desperate sound of a woman searching for an excuse. Make no mistake, son. She did this."

  I shake my head as Henry meets my gaze, suspicion growing in his eyes. "It was you, wasn’t it?"

  "Henry, no! Don’t listen to him!"

  Grayson's hand curves over my shoulder. "I’ve been with her this whole time. There’s no way she could’ve contacted a reporter without me knowing."

  "Oh, like I’m supposed to believe you. Do me a favor and shut the hell up." Henry’s red-rimmed gaze pierces mine. "I almost bought your song and dance of wanting a family back."

  Pressure builds behind my eyes as my father’s lips curl into a weary smile. "What is the matter with you?"

  "Nothing," he shrugs. "I feel sorry for my son. He put his faith in the wrong people."

  I twist the napkin still clenched in my hands, refusing to give into rage. I want to shatter that calm face. Destroy his smug grin. "You’ve always hated me."

  My venom kills his amusement. "I treated you like one of my own."

  "I am. Your. Daughter!"

  "No, you’re not!" he screams, banging both fists on the table. "You’re not mine."

  "Sorry to break it to you, but I am your flesh and blood!"

  His voice goes cold with menace. "You are not."

  I barely hear myself. "What?"

  "Your mother had an affair. I didn’t find out until you were seven. By then it was too damn late. You had my name, and there was nothing I could do about it."

  My mind fills the gaps of that horrible, confusing time when my father suddenly gave me the cold shoulder. Mom was crying all over the place. On the steps of our house. When she drove me to soccer practice. I thought it was because Dad and I couldn’t get along.