Page 182 of The American


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I don’t want to admit it, but I know he’s mine.

I yell and throw my glass across the room, caught between a conflicting feeling of calm and unhinged.

Calm because he’s mine and I accept that. Will make up for that.

Unhinged because with my son entering my life, someone else has to exit. I drop back against the couch and stare up and the ceiling. Why didn’t he tell me? Why the fuck didn’t he tell me?

He was scared of this. My reaction.

My cell rings. I ignore Allison’s call. It rings again. I ignore Beau’s call.

The door to the suite knocks.

I get up.

Answer.

The smile that greets me makes me want to slap it off her face.

Long, blonde hair. Blue eyes.

Not Pearl.

I throw five hundred bucks at her exposed chest and slam the door.

I can’t have Pearl. I’ll never accept that.

Doesn’t mean I have to be a cunt.

43

PEARL

* * *

I can’t lock myself away in my bedroom and hide. It would look odd. So I must endure peopling, sitting in the kitchen, pretending to work, while everyone comes and goes. He’s been gone for two nights. Everyone knows where he is, but no one is going to save him from himself. No one is intervening. Perhaps they’re giving him the space they think he needs to deal with this bombshell. With cocaine, women, and alcohol. Because that’s what Brad Black does. That’s what he turns to, even when Brad’s simply being Brad. But when he’s in crisis? How much worse will one of his binges be?

I know I’m an added layer of complication to this complete and utter clusterfuck in his life. It’s easy to eradicate me. Not so much his son.

I stare down at the keyboard of my laptop. At the screen with drawings and furniture stores.

“What are you doing there, Pearl?” Esther asks.

I look up, blank. What am I doing? “I’m . . .” I register her body. Her face. “Wow,” I breathe, taking in her glowing complexion and her body encased in a beautiful cherry-red wraparound dress, with gold piping on the edges and hem. “You look so lovely, Esther.”

She smiles, almost shyly, her hand at her ear putting an earring in. “Otto is taking me out.”

“I hope you enjoy.”

“I’m sure she will,” Rose says, sitting next to me at the island with Maggie in her arms and flipping me a wink that I’m sure should be discreet.

“Anyone heard from Brad?” Esther asks, brushing her hair back off her shoulders.

Rose shakes her head. “He’s not answering anyone’s calls.”

“We’ve got to give him time.” Esther pulls her handbag toward her and finds a lipstick. “Anyone checked in on Nolan?”

“He’s in his room. Quiet.”

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