“I am happy to talk about ways you can be more involved,” I said, shocked at how steady my voice was. “My work situation will not be one of them.”
“You think I want my kid exposed to an idiot like Jackson Coles? Do you think I want her hanging out on a fucking movie set?” His tone was quickly matching the anger in his eyes. I tried to pull my arm away, but he only gripped it more tightly. “I’m serious, Sofie.”
“Let go of my arm.” My voice was deadly cold. I felt afraid, then. Not for myself— I was confident I could kick his ass if I needed to. No, it was Beth that I was scared for. Because Beth was irrevocably connected to this man. And I was more sure than ever that he wasn’t a good one.
His face seemed to slacken slightly and he released me. “You’re screwing him, aren’t you?”
“You are so out of bounds, Jim, it isn’t even funny.”
He barked out a bitter laugh. “I don’t believe this. I tried to get you back for months. You had my baby! And you jumped in bed with the first rich asshole that came along.” He shook his head, disgust on his face. “I guess I should have expected you to be a gold digger—isn’t that why you hooked up with me in the first place?”
My entire body was shaking. I had seen him turn nasty like this before, but he’d always been drunk. For him to lash out like this, at my parents’ house—I felt sick.
“It’s time for you to go.”
He got right in my face then, his eyes blazing, a grimace twisting his lips. “You’re not the one who invited me, Sofie.”
I took a step away from him and he followed. But by then, I was close enough to the garage door opener to hit the button. The door rose slowly behind us. “Get out. Unless you want me to go and get my cousins and tell them exactly what you just said to me.”
He was breathing heavily, looking from the door to me. I could almost see the realization come across his face that he’d gone too far. That he was dangerously close to losing his temper.
“Get. Out.”
He took in a ragged breath and slipped past me, close enough to brush against my body. I repressed a shudder, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “This isn’t over,” he muttered. And then he was gone.
I shut the door and took several deep breaths, trying to get myself under control. Inside the house, I heard a wail. Beth. Probably ready for her own dinner. But I couldn’t go in, not yet.
I leaned against the fridge and closed my eyes. I felt weak and shaky.
Jim was not a good guy. Jim was a mean, angry guy. A guy who had just threatened me, had grabbed my arm until it stung. And it wasn’t the first time. I had no idea how violent he might be. I’d heard rumors, at work, about an ex-girlfriend. A fight with another guy in a bar. And this was the man I had let into my life, into my daughter’s life.
I had to be very careful here. If I pushed him too hard, tried to stop him from seeing Beth entirely, he could react badly. What if he went for joint custody? The very thought made me go cold. I didn’t want her around him without me. But I didn’t have any grounds to legally keep him away. He was mean to me. I have a bad feeling about him. I’m sure any judge in the world would go for that.
Tell your parents, a voice in my head said. They’d stop inviting him around if they knew. Maybe he’d get bored with the effort if they cut him off.
But then I would have to tell them that I didn’t know any of this about him before we hooked up. Because I went to bed with a man with whom I had only spoken about ten words.
This is all my fault, I thought again. And I had no idea what to do about it.
I finally went back inside after five minutes, a six-pack of cold beer in my hands. My mother was in the kitchen. She took one look at me and crossed her arms. “What did you do?”
I set the beer on the table, careful not to slam it as hard as I wanted to. “He had to go.”
“Sofia—”
“Mom, please.”
“No! You need to grow up, young lady. I’ve had about enough of this behavior—”
“Mother, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Of course I do! You think I don’t see the way you push that boy away? Keep him from Beth? She needs her father, Sofie! She deserves that!”
Her father just called me a gold-digging slut.
“Is this about that actor?” she asked, eyes narrowed. “Do you think you have a chance with him? You need to get your head out of the clouds and—I am not done talking to you!”
But I had spun on my heel. I couldn’t be in that house anymore. I knew Beth needed to nurse, but I was pretty sure I would go into hysterics if I touched her. I was confused and scared, and the person I was supposed to trust to help was blaming me. It was just like when I found out I was pregnant. She’ll never change, I thought. I found Sam in the front hallway. “Can you give Beth a bottle for me?” I asked, hoping he didn’t look too closely at my face. He would know something was wrong.
“Of course.” He grabbed my arm as I moved to pass, and I flinched. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not.”
Before he could ask me any questions, I was through the door and out onto the porch. It was much colder than it had been that afternoon, but I didn’t bother to go back for my coat. I had to get out of there.
I fumbled for the phone in my pocket as I set off across the lawn. Without thinking, I was pulling up his name in my contacts, the phone dialed before I had a chance to wonder if this was a good idea.
“Jackson?” I said, the minute he answered. “Can you come get me?”
Chapter Thirteen
I wandered the neighborhood for twenty minutes before he showed up. By then, I was freezing, shaking the way I’d been in the garage. I’d asked him to meet me at the park, half a mile from home, and he found me there, sitting on a bench in the dark.
“Sofie!” He was out of the car before I could stand, his arm around me, pulling me to my feet. “What’s going on?”
“I just had a bad night.” I couldn’t help but lean into him. He felt so good, so warm and solid. Nothing about him was scary or unknown.
“Are you okay? Is Beth okay?”
“We’re fine.” I was starting to feel a little silly for my dramatics. “I just… I needed to get out of there.”
He watched me in the light from his headlights for a long moment. “Come on,” he finally said. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
He held open the door for me, and I sank into the passenger seat, the familiar smell of leather comforting. As soon as he was in the car, he turned the heat up, fiddling with the vents until they were blowing directly on me. “I’m fine, Jackson. Seriously.”
He didn’t appear convinced, but he also didn’t ask me any more questions. Instead, he merely drove in silence. After a few moments, he reached over and took my hand.
“Can we go to your place?” I asked. I just wanted to go somewhere that felt far from home. Somewhere that didn’t remind me of my family in any way.
“Of course.”
He did a quick U-turn so he could reach the freeway. “Do you want music?” he asked.
“No. This is nice. Just sitting for a minute.”
So he held my hand and drove, and he never once asked anything from me.
Up at his condo, he started a fire and poured us each a glass of red wine. “I was just about to drink this before you called,” he said. He gave me a sheepish smile. “Exciting Sunday night.”
“You’re telling me.”
I followed him to the living room with my wine glass and curled up in a corner of his massive sectional. I said a brief prayer that I wouldn’t spill any of the wine on the cream cushions. I was surprised by how neat and orderly Jackson kept his things. His meticulous home didn’t quite fit the image of the hard-partying celebrity the gossip magazines wrote about.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
I blew out a deep breath, watching the fire. “My parents invited Jim over for dinner.”
; Jackson went still on the other side of the couch. “They did?”
I nodded. “It was awful.”
“I’m sorry.”
I managed a weak smile in his direction. “Are you? You hate that guy.”
“Yes.” His face was very serious. “I do. But I’m sorry you had an awful night.”
I closed my eyes, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to cry. I hated crying, especially in front of other people. “I don’t know how to get them to stop butting in.”
“You’ve told them how you feel about him?”
I nodded. “They say I don’t have to be in a relationship with him—though it’s totally obvious that they wish I was. They say I do have to let him be a part of Beth’s life. That she deserves that.”
“And what do you think?”
I could tell Jackson. I knew he wouldn’t judge me.
“He’s not…nice,” I said, my voice low. “He’s… I don’t think it is good for Beth to have him in her life.”
He was down on my end of the couch in seconds, doing that head duck I had become so familiar with so he could peer into my eyes. “What did he do?”
“Nothing,” I tried to assure him, battling back the mental image of the anger in Jim’s eyes. The way he had grabbed my arm. “He just… I think he’s angry. I’ve heard him say…” I sighed. This was all so convoluted.
“I didn’t know him at all when we hooked up.” Even though I felt sure Jackson wouldn’t judge me, I was still embarrassed to admit it. “He was just this cute guy in another department at work. I’d never even talked to him. Then the entire office went to the bar for our manager’s retirement party. And we… Well, that’s when we hooked up.”
I finally looked up to meet his eyes. They were expressionless. “I got drunk and had a one-night stand with some guy I didn’t know. Nice, huh?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I closed my eyes. “Yes, I did. Because we’re connected now. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Sofie—”
“That Monday, after the party, I went to drop some memos off in his department. I… I saw him, by the coffee machine. And he was talking about me.”
Jackson’s voice was rough. “What did he say?”
“Oh, you know, the usual racist shit. How he had gotten a piece of the hot Latina slut.” I shook my head, unable to bring myself to repeat the rest. The Latina slut part had been the best of it.
Jackson carefully set his glass down and started to stand. “I’m going to beat the shit out of that guy.”
I reached for his arm, pulling him back to the couch. “No, you’re not. Don’t be silly.”
“He is never coming around you or Beth again.” He seemed to hear what he was saying, and he sighed. “Which I guess is not for me to say, eh?”
“Honestly, I wish I could say it.”
“That’s why you didn’t tell him about the baby.”
“I didn’t want her to have someone like…that…for a father. Two months later, he got a promotion and was transferred to a different office.” I looked down at my fuzzy socks. “I should have quit. I was so stupid. He called me a bunch of times, said he wanted to see me.” I didn’t mention how the calls had become increasingly more nasty. “I ignored him, but I should have… I should have gotten out of there. I thought if he was out of the office, he wouldn’t find out about the baby. But of course, I ran into him again.”
“You need to tell your parents this. They won’t invite him around if they know what he’s like.”
“I don’t really know how I can admit that to them.” I chanced a glance at him. “I know that makes me a coward.”
“Sofie. You were willing to raise a baby on your own. You are not a coward.”
I shrugged, and he made a disbelieving noise.
“I feel like a coward.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Then why didn’t I tell my parents tonight? I let my mom lay into me—again—about how I’m ruining my daughter’s life by keeping her father away.”
I wanted to tell him about what had happened in the garage. About the mean streak I had seen just below the surface. Not just that night. In the weeks following our hook up, before he transferred, he hadn’t just called me. He had approached me at the office on several occasions, seeming to get angrier and angrier when I didn’t give him another chance. One night, I had left work late with some of the girls from my department, and he approached me in the parking lot. He’d been clearly drunk, and he had grabbed me, just like he did tonight.
And this was the guy I was letting into my home.
“I’m afraid to push him,” I whispered, more to myself than to Jackson. “I’m afraid if I keep him away he’ll… I don’t know. Try to get joint custody.” I looked up at Jackson’s clear blue eyes, filled with concern. “I can’t let that happen.”
“We won’t. We won’t let it happen, Sofie.”
I gave him a weak smile. “I’m not sure you’d be able to stop that, Jackson.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Sam. You okay? I just saw your car in the driveway. Where did u go??
I’m with Jackson.
I waited for the joke that I was sure was coming. I think you could use a break tonight. I’m going to stay here. I’ll get Beth to bed.
My heart turned over. He was a good friend, my cousin. You don’t have to do that.
Consider it overtime and compensate me accordingly. I’m thinking a meet and greet with Lola Fischer would suffice.
I smiled at the phone.
You’re the best, Sam. Thank you.
“Who’s that?” Jackson asked.
“Sam is going to get Beth to bed tonight,” I said, setting the phone on the table. I held up my wine glass. “Can we change the subject? I could use a refill.”
Jackson sighed, clearly not happy with my request to drop the subject, and added some wine to my glass.
“So. Are you excited for New York?” I asked.
“I am, actually. For once, I’m not booked solid the entire time we’re there. I’ll have free time.” He widened his eyes. “Can you imagine?”
“Whatever will you do with yourself?”
“Hmm. I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. What do you like to do in New York?”
“I’ve only been once. Thomas took us there to shop for Lizzie’s wedding dress. We did all the touristy stuff, the Empire State Building, a show on Broadway.”
He nodded. “Well, maybe we can find some things to do off the beaten path.”
“That would be nice.”
Jackson refilled his own glass. “My favorite restaurant is in New York.”
“Really? What is it?”
“House Nine. It’s a little bit over the top, but they have the absolute best scallops I’ve ever tasted. I’ll take you there.”
I nodded. “I would like that.”
We sipped our wine for a while, watching the fire. I noticed, for the first time, that there was a thick script on the coffee table. “What’s that?”
“A television program I’m considering,” he said, looking slightly embarrassed. I couldn’t hide my surprise. I had never known Jackson to do TV. He was a movie star. Wouldn’t TV be a step backward?
Before I could ask, he turned to me. “If you could do anything with the rest of your life, what would it be?”
My eyes widened. “Um. That’s a pretty big question. I have no idea.”
He nodded. “Me, either.”
“Wait, are you kidding? You have an amazing job! Why would you want to do anything else?”
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll ever quit acting. But it would be nice to try something else. For a while. To have something different in my life.”
It was strange, someone like Jackson having the same frustrations and fears as the rest of us. “Sam and I were talking about this a few weeks ago. It seemed like Lizzie always knew what she wa
nted to do, you know? Neither of us ever felt that way.”
“I got into acting because I wanted to get girls,” he admitted, shooting me a rueful glance.
I giggled. “Well, I would say that’s worked out pretty well for you then.”
He smirked. “Quite.” There was a pause. “I thought taking this movie would make it feel like…something more.”
“And it hasn’t?”
He shrugged. “It’s been more challenging, that’s for sure. And I’m enjoying it. I just… There has to be something else.” He sounded so passionate, so sincere. “It’s probably selfish, to have it so good and still wish for more.”
“I feel that way about Beth,” I admitted, wondering if this made me a bad mother. “Like, I’m crazy about her. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t imagine my life without her. But…I still want something else, you know? For me.”
He nodded, and I took another sip of my wine, surprised at how good it felt to admit all of this to someone. “I think part of it,” I went on, “is that I want to show her what she can be. I want to show her that she can be more than an administrative assistant at a fucking insurance company.” I smiled into my glass. “Unless, you know, she wants to be an administrative assistant at a fucking insurance company.”
Jackson chuckled, the sound warm and velvety. The wine was starting to hit me now, making everything feel languid and smooth.
“What do you want?” he asked, voice low. “You said you wanted more—like what? Don’t think about it—just say it, off the top of your head.”
“I want to travel,” I said automatically. “Much more than I have. I want to see…more. I want to be able to afford the things that will make her life easier.” I thought about the times when money had been tight growing up, when Carla had to go without a new pair of glasses when she needed them, when I was too afraid to tell my mom I had outgrown another pair of gym shoes.
“For you, Sofie,” Jackson urged. “What do you want for you?”
“I want to go to a winery. I want to see a ballet. I want to learn how to do something brand new. Learn a language. Play an instrument. Get my own place. Go to college. Find someone to love.”
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