by Naomi Niles
“Then for the next few months, every time I pay a bill or use his money, I’ll be reminded of him. I’ll be reminded that I had to swallow my pride and go to his doorstep with a begging bowl. I’ll be reminded that he’s the one supporting me, despite the fact that he never wanted to in the first place.”
Lacey looked at me with eyes that looked a little watery. “Brit…” she said softly.
“That’s my reality, Lace,” I said, with a tired sigh. “There’s just no escaping it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “If I could help-”
“I know,” I said, cutting her off. “I know you would. And, I appreciate that. But we’re all struggling to stay afloat here. I know that.”
Lacey looked like she didn’t know what else to say.
“You know what would be great right now?”
“What?” she asked, jumping on the opportunity to do something.
“Let’s play some music and dance all our troubles away.”
She laughed and headed for the radio. We spent the next few hours twirling around the diner, waiting on diners who clearly thought we were a little loopy. But it succeeded in cheering me up and by the end of the day, even though my decision had been made, I didn’t feel quite so low.
Lacey was in the back with Danny and I was cleaning up in the front, when the door to the diner opened. “I’m sorry, we’re close-”
I looked up and caught sight of Talen stepping into the diner. “Talen?” I said, with a smile spreading across my face. “What are you doing here?”
“I was passing through,” he said. “I saw you in the window and I thought that you might need a lift home.”
I smiled. “Wow, that was sweet of you.”
He took a seat at the counter. “Does that mean you’re taking me up on that offer?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a lift,” I nodded, as I wiped down the counter. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
“Of course,” he nodded.
I noticed he had a sparkle in his eye today and there was a tinge of underlying excitement I could sense from him. “Are you happy about something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
He smiled. “Observant,” he said. “Actually, there is something I’m happy about.”
“Do tell,” I said, with interest.
“Remember that fight I was telling you about? The one in January?”
“Yes,” I said. “Against Kendrick something or the other.”
“Kendrick Conner,” he corrected. “Well, they’re moving it up.”
“They’re moving it up?” I repeated. “How close up?”
“Three weeks from tomorrow,” Talen replied.
“Wow,” I said. “Are you ready for that?”
“I have to be,” he nodded. “The fight will be held in Las Vegas.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “That’s a big arena.”
“I’m actually comfortable there,” he replied. “I’ve fought in Las Vegas before. Not on this large a scale, but it was a jumping off point. That was the fight that gave me my big break.”
“Which led to this fight?”
“Yes,” he nodded.
“You look excited.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
I laughed. “I would be nervous.”
“I’ll probably be a little nervous on the day,” he replied. “But for right now, I’m just excited.”
“Well, then, I’m happy for you,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said. Then his eyes raked over my face and seemed to notice something amiss. “Is something the matter?”
“Nothing,” I replied, a little too quickly.
He raised his eyebrows at me, and I gave him a self-conscious smile. “I’ve just been a little…preoccupied today, that’s all.”
“About?”
Just at that moment, the kitchen door opened and Danny and Lacey came out, all set to leave for the night. Danny looked a little startled to see Talen sitting there, but Lacey gave him a huge smile.
“Well, hello, Mr. MMA,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” Talen nodded. “You?”
“Great,” she nodded. “Where’s your pal?”
“Probably at home, dreaming about you.”
“Yeah,” she nodded confidently. “I kind of thought so. You’ve met Danny before, haven’t you?”
The boys shook hands as Lacey introduced them. Then we said our goodnights and Talen and I headed out of the diner towards his car. It was nice and warm in the passenger’s seat, but my mind was still thinking of the decision I’d made earlier in the day.
“You were about to tell me what was bothering you?” Talen reminded me.
I glanced over at him and sighed. “I suppose it’s no surprise that I’m going through a few money troubles,” I said the bitter words quickly. “I’ve sort of hit a cross roads. I can’t manage without some help, which means… I’m going to have to see my father.”
“Your father?”
“He’s my father is name alone,” I said quickly. “He’s never really been…fatherly towards me in any way. But he has money, and I’m desperate, so…”
“You’re going to ask him for help,” Talen nodded.
“It was and always has been my last resort,” I admitted. “But I’m at the end of my tether. I have bills to pay and an expensive car repair that needs to be sorted out immediately. I can’t afford to wait any longer. Asking my father is the only option I have left.”
Talen grew quiet for a moment. “This must be hard for you.”
“You have no idea,” I sighed.
“When are you planning on seeing him?”
I paused. “I was thinking of doing it tomorrow, actually,” I replied. “It’s soon, but I want to get it over with as soon as possible.”
“You know, I could come with you,” Talen offered.
I turned to him with a start. “You would do that?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “For moral support.”
I smiled, realizing that I would actually take a huge amount of comfort from his mere presence alone. “If you’re serious-”
“I am.”
I smiled. “Okay, then,” I nodded. “I would love if you could come with me.”
Talen turned his eyes back to the road. “Good.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Talen
“Hi,” I greeted, as Brittany got into the passenger seat.
“Hi,” she said. I could tell immediately that she was nervous and preoccupied at the same time.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said distractedly, but her eyes were far away.
I wanted to reach out and take her hand, but the gesture was foreign to me and I felt strange doing it. Instead, I kept my eyes on the road, stealing a glance in her direction every few seconds just to make sure she was all right.
“Can we stop by my place for a little bit?” she asked, the moment we cleared the diner. “I’d like to shower and change before we head over to my father’s place.”
“Of course,” I nodded.
“I just want to warn you…”
“Yes?”
“My father is a little different.”
“Different?” I repeated.
“He’s…a tough guy,” Brittany tried to explain. “And he doesn’t exactly mince his words. He’s blunt and cold and abrasive.”
“I know the sort.”
She nodded. “I’m just preparing you,” she said.
It sounded to me like she was trying to prepare herself. I glanced at her again, but her eyes were fixed on some unknown point in front of her. She was looking, but she wasn’t really seeing. “It’s going to be okay, Brittany,” I said.
I hated saying the words because they sounded so hollow and generic, but they were all I had to work with. I had no idea what her father was like, and I had no idea what their relationship was like. The only thing I could do was be there for her.
&
nbsp; We headed up Brittany’s apartment, and I took a seat on the sofa while she headed for the shower. Twenty minutes later, she still hadn’t appeared. A little concerned, I got up and headed to her little box of a room. The door was closed and I didn’t want to be presumptuous, so I knocked.
“Come in.”
I walked in to find Brittany standing in front of her mirror wearing a pretty blue dress. The dress was sleeveless, tight at the bodice and billowy at the waist. A pattern of white flowers adorned the hem and the neckline of the dress. She had tied up her hair into a demure bun and even her make up matched her pretty but conservative choice of dress. She slipped on a pair of beige wedges and turned to me. It looked as though she were preparing for a date, as opposed to a meeting with her father.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“You look…different,” I said. “Beautiful, but different.”
She gave me a nervous smile. “I have some silver earrings I can wear… Do you think it’s too much?”
I frowned. “No…” I said uncertainly.
She turned around, grabbed a pair of earrings on her dressing table and put them on quickly. “There,” she said. “What do you think?”
“You look perfect,” I said, giving her the thumbs up.
“Sure?”
“Positive,” I nodded.
“Okay, then,” she said breathily. “I guess…we should get going.”
We walked out to the car together, and I could practically feel the nerves waft off of Brittany. I wanted to take a moment to hold her still and calm her down, but she hopped into the passenger’s seat before I could do anything.
“Head over to Manson and Ivy,” she instructed me. “It’s a housing complex, so it’s hard to miss.”
It took us nearly thirty minutes to get there, and we travelled in near silence. I understood Brittany’s need to maintain the silence, so I didn’t even try to attempt conversation. There were signs that marked our way before we arrived at a huge, intricately-adorned black gate. To the side of the gate was a fancy sign that read “Manson and Ivy.”
I had to roll down Brittany’s window so that she could talk to the security guard. He was dressed like an army commander in a blue uniform.
“Yes, ma’am?” he asked without interest.
“I’m a visitor,” Brittany said, tripping over her words a little. “I’m here to see Fletcher McMillan.”
The security guard nodded. “Name?”
“Brittany McMillian.”
The guard glanced up, pressed a button on his screen, and the black gate parted like the red sea. “It’s number thirteen. Make a right at the traffic circle, drive straight, take another right at the second traffic circle, and you’ll find number thirteen on your left.”
“Right,” Brittany nodded. “Okay, thank you.”
I looked around in awe as we drove through. Brittany’s father was obviously incredibly wealthy to be able to live in a luxury-housing scheme like this one. I was a little puzzled as to why sshe lived the way she did if she had a father who could obviously help her out without even noticing the money going. I resisted the urge to ask, however. I knew she was choking on her own nerves.
“Urgh… I’ve already forgotten his instructions,” she groaned, looking frazzled.
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I’ve got it.”
Within two minutes, we had pulled up outside a massive two-story building that looked more like a mansion than a house. Everything about it screamed wealth, and I could understand why Brittany might feel a little intimidated.
“I can stay in the car,” I said.
She turned to look at me with wide eyes. “Please don’t,” she said, as her hand grabbed mine. “I… I think I’d like it if you came with me. If you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind,” I said.
We got out of the car and headed over to the front door. There was an actual brass doorknocker in the center of the ornate wooden door. Brittany ignored it and just rang the doorbell that was off to the side. A few moments later, the door opened and we found ourselves face-to-face with an impeccably dressed man with a bored expression on his face.
“May I help you?” he asked politely.
“Is… Um… Is Mr. McMillian in?”
“May I know who’s asking?”
I raised my eyebrows, observing the butler as though he were a sideshow. It was hard to believe that people actually had butlers anymore – it was hard to believe people actually lived like that.
“I’m Brittany…his daughter.”
The butler did a good job of hiding his surprise, but I noticed his expression change slightly. He nodded once. “Of course, ma’am. Please come in. If you’ll wait in the foyer, I will let Mr. McMillian know you are here to see him.”
“Can’t you just take me straight to see him?” Brittany asked.
I was pretty sure it wasn’t just my imagination, but I noticed that the butler gave me a slightly judgemental glance before he turned back to Brittany. I realized my appearance might not exactly be in keeping with the décor.
“Mr. McMillian likes to be notified of any visitors before he receives them, ma’am,” the butler replied before he disappeared through a door on the right.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Brittany sighed, reaching out for me.
I grabbed her hand and held her steady. “This place is…something else.”
“My father’s always lived this kind of lifestyle.”
“It must have been surreal…growing up in places like this,” I said, looking up at the massive circular stairway that seemed to go on forever.
“I didn’t,” she said. “I never grew up anywhere even close to this.”
“You didn’t?”
“There was that one year when I was a teenager, but it seems more like a dream now…”
I was trying to understand what she had just said when the butler reappeared. “Please follow me,” he said formally.
He took us through a huge room, down a broad corridor decorated with oil paintings, before coming to a stop outside a large door with marble inlay. He knocked twice, waited three seconds, and then opened it and gestured for Brittany and I to enter.
He was sitting on a massive leather armchair, reading a book and smoking what looked to be a cob pipe. He was not a particularly impressive man in build or stature. He looked pretty ordinary, in fact.
But I noticed there was a power in his face that came close to what Brittany had described. It was a harshness that suggested wealth and privileged without any of the humility. His eyes were the same blue as his daughter’s, but they lacked her depth and warmth.
He looked up slowly when we entered. Then he uncrossed his legs, put down his book, and took another puff of his pipe before he removed it from his mouth. His eyes passed only momentarily on Brittany before they landed on me. I could tell immediately that he wasn’t happy about me being there, nor did he approve of my tattooed arms.
“Brittany,” he said, without bothering to get up.
“Hi, Dad,” she said, a little shakily. “This is Talen. He’s…a friend of mine.”
He gave me a cursory glance. “Talen?” he repeated. “Unusual name.”
“I had unusual parents.”
“Apparently,” he nodded sardonically. “Why have you come to see me, Brittany?” he asked, cutting to the chase.
There was no small talk, no niceties, and no interest in his daughter’s life. He was blunt, abrupt, and clearly disinterested. I was starting to see why Brittany had been so nervous to make this visit. And, I was starting to feel my temper rise just looking at Fletcher McMillian’s pompous face. For Brittany’s sake, I gritted my teeth and stayed silent.
“Umm…” Brittany just stood there awkwardly, because neither one of us had been offered a seat. “Well… I came here to ask you for a favor.”
“I gathered as much,” Fletcher nodded. “You want money?”
Brittany tensed immediately. “I… Well… It�
�s just that these last few months have been hard…”
“Life is hard.”
She paused, obviously thrown by his interruption. She seemed to gather her words up quickly, however. “I wouldn’t have come if I had any other choice,” she said. “I just need a little money to get me through these next few months. And obviously… I’m not asking for a hand out. I intend to pay you back.”
“With interest?”
I glared at him, shocked by how coldly brutal he was being, but he wasn’t even looking in my direction. I felt the need to grab Brittany and get the hell out of that oppressively overdone house, but I didn’t want to overstep.
“I… I can’t afford to pay you back with interest,” she replied.
“A bank would require interest,” Fletcher continued. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Because you’re her fucking father, I wanted to scream, but my tongue was tied in shock.
“I…”
“But then, a bank would never lend you the money in the first place,” Fletcher said disparagingly. “Which is why you had to come to me.”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice.
“How much money do you need?”
Brittany hesitated for a moment. “I need…four thousand dollars.”
Fletcher pursed his lips up and stared at her with his cold blue eyes. It was amazing to me that he could look at her and have no feelings towards her.
“I worked hard to earn my money,” he said.
“I know that-”
“No one gave me any hand outs.”
“It wouldn’t be a hand out-”
“The answer is no,” Fletcher said, cutting Brittany off again.
She froze for a moment. She was about to say something when I stepped forward. “Come on,” I said, taking her by the arm. “We’re leaving.”
I pulled Brittany towards the door, and she followed me without resistance. We were at the threshold when I turned back and made eye contact with Fletcher. “You can go fuck yourself,” I said, through gritted teeth before I got the hell out of there, Brittany at my side.
She was shivering slightly when we got into the car, and I reached out to her and engulfed her in my arms. “I’m sorry,” I said, wondering if she was upset with me.