Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Nothing yet,” I say, and reach for the MacBook, with a sick feeling in my gut. He thinks this is a bombshell about my father. But what I know, that he does not, is that whatever this is, my father’s connected me to it already.
Chapter forty-eight
Alana
When we arrive at the building that houses Blue Real Estate, Adam walks me to the office door. “I’ll be out of sight but close. Is the office open to the public or can you lock up?”
“I can lock up for sure. Thanks, Adam. I really, really appreciate all you are doing.”
He hesitates and then says, “He’s in a difficult position, Alana, and I understand his need to end it decisively.”
“Surely you’re not saying he should kill his father,” I say, lowering my voice for his ears only.
“No one has to die,” he says.
“But sometimes they do?”
“Sometimes they do, and that happens when it’s one to one, you or them. As I said, I’ll be close.” I’m not sure if he means to me or Damion at this point, but either way, I understand what he’s saying. Killing his father would be life or death for Damion, a last resort and Damion was trying to tell me he’d do anything for me. As I would for him.
“Thank you,” I say softly, a small twist in my belly, at what feels like a conversation that’s offered confirmation we may not get out of this in a good place.
He inclines his chin and I turn and attempt to enter the office, only to find the door locked, which is not my mother’s normal way of operating. She always thinks someone will walk into the office, and she wants the business. I punch my code into the security panel and glance at Damion. “She must not be here. I may need to go to her place. I’ll text you.”
“I’ll be ready,” he says, and I enter the offices to find them dark, flipping on the light, and shutting the door behind me.
I lean on the wooden surface and consider the oddity of her absence. It feels off when in truth she could just be taking time off to makeup with my father, except of course, she’d rather be fucking Damion’s father. I’m queasy with the thought I vehemently reject, and shove away. I push off the door and hurry to my office, claiming my seat behind my desk, but I don’t even bother to place my purse in my drawer as I normally would. I snatch my phone from inside it and dial my mother, only to land in voicemail. I text her: I’m at the office. Where are you?
When she doesn’t reply, I dial my father, who I haven’t talked to much lately, but then I never do when he’s off the deep end gambling. His phone rings twice and he shocks me by picking up. “Hey, hon.”
“Hey, Dad. How are things?”
“Good,” he says, and he sounds sober, not that he drinks a lot, but sometimes he drinks to fill in the gambling holes. “I’ll be back in the office Monday if that’s why you’re calling. I took a little ski trip with a buddy.”
I feel those words like a pinch. They mean he’s in Vegas. “I see,” I say, puzzled by his location when my mother said they fought last night, though it could have been by phone.
“Don’t say it like that,” he chides. “I really am skiing. I’ll send you photos.”
“Is Mom upset about it?”
“I wouldn’t know. We haven’t talked in three days. We needed a little break, but don’t start freaking out, baby girl. You know I’ve struggled with her and the whole West affair. I still can’t get my head around her blaming me for what happened between them.”
Happened. Past tense. He doesn’t know they’re back together, or maybe never stopped seeing each other. “Yes. I know you have, which is why I need to tell you something.”
“You’re marrying Damion, right?”
“I—maybe. I don’t know. I’m starting by moving in with him.”
“I figured something like that. You’re all over the tabloids. Look, I know I said a lot of shit about Damion, baby, and I’m sorry. I’m pretty fucking angry at his father, so it’s easy for me to connect those dots. I know you two were always the best of friends. I was in a shitty state of mind, being shitty. I’m sorry.”
I’m shocked and pleased at how he’s changed his tune, as if he’s thinking of my happiness not his own. He and my mother are nothing alike and maybe that’s the bigger picture here. Maybe she was always more like Damion’s father and the rose-colored blinders of a daughter didn’t allow me to see the truth. “I know it’s a little weird though, with all that’s happened.”
“But it shouldn’t be, now, should it? It wouldn’t be if his father wasn’t in the mix. I’ve done a lot of shitty things, Alana. Separating you from a man that can take far better care of you than I ever did will not be one of them.” His voice cracks. “I want to be a better man.”