“Shit,” I hissed.
“She’s thirty-three. I’m hardly going to police who she spends her time with, Mr. Barlowe.” His voice didn’t come any closer, and I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse. “Come here.”
I cursed under my breath before following the sound of her father’s voice. “Yes, sir?” I muttered once I found his office.
He turned in his chair — it wasn’t lost on me how much this looked like a scene from the Godfather. And unfortunately, I wasnotthe Marlon Brando of this scene.
“I made a mistake with Joel, Mr. Barlowe.” His voice wasn't harsh… but I wasn’t keen on making him angry. “He rubbed me the wrong way, and I let my daughter marry him, anyway. You—” He pointed a pen in my direction. “I like you, Mr. Barlowe. Celebrity status aside, I think you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”
He stood, and I was torn between running and shitting myself.
“But I’ve seen the way you act. She wasobsessedwith you growing up, son. You and Eryk Moonstrider got her through a lot of hard life events. And if I eventhinkyou’re using that childlike adoration against her… well, Mr. Barlowe, you’ll regret it. Do you understand me?”
I nodded too quickly, my tongue heavy in my mouth. I’d never been threatened — was he threatening me? — by a father before. “Yes, sir,” I managed, trying not to visibly sweat through my hoodie.
He didn’t blink.
I swallowed. “Great talk.”
CHAPTER 36
He’d texted me the time. Told me just to pack for a few days away, he had taken care of the rest. Even arranged with Raymond for me to have a few days off — he’d promised to come in and do an event before the screening of ‘The Way We Move’, exclusive to Figments bookstore.
I had laid out everything. There was just the waiting. Theagonizingwait. My knee bounced on the couch as I checked the clock every three minutes. Waiting for his car in the driveway, waiting — and praying — that his presence would calm my nerves.
It wasn’t just the red carpet, or the flight, or going back to pretend… It was sort of… everything? My stomach was doing little flips.
This was huge. The first time I went away with Joel, he’d told me how I would never amount to anything more than a bookseller. Mocked me for my fear of flying. Left me at a restaurant because I took too long.
Shit.
I’d been doing so much better when it came to that. Anselwasn’t Joel. He’d shown me again and again (and again) that he would not hurt me the way Joel did.
But trauma doesn’t choose how it rears its ugly head, it just does. The anxious knot in my stomach jumped when the doorbell rang.
Ansel stood on the other side of the door, baseball cap backwards, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. “This isn’t fair.” I whispered, taking in the sight of him. “You didn’t tell me to dress down for the flight.” I was in a dress with a leather jacket slung over my shoulders.
“You look perfect,” he said with a grin as he took my overnight bag from me. “Ready to go?”
I nodded, hopefully I looked more convincing than I felt.
I’d flown before… I didn’tloveit, but I’d manage. We were in first class, another luxury I’d never experienced before.
We were among the first people on the plane…
I was going to be okay.
I could do this.
“Window or aisle?” Ansel asked.
“Oh, uh… I don’t care.”
“Slide in then,” He was carrying all of my bags, hatstillbackwards. Smilestilldevastating. After I sat down, he followed, closing a small privacy screen behind us. The seats were comfortable enough. This would be okay.
I’d been on planes before.
Takeoff was rough, but Ansel assured me it would calm down. All the flights were bumpy to begin with, but leveled out.
