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I forgot about my dread enough to worry about him for a second. "Are you doing okay, Dad?"
He looked at me and scoffed. "You don't have to pretend you care. There's no one else here."
I felt my blood pressure spike, so I took a deep breath. Pierce had a way of getting under my skin. "Of course I care. You're my father."
"Did you care so much about me when you started dating your stepsister? Or should I say when you started being your stepsister's hooker? Were you wondering about my feelings when you decided to do that?" His voice was dangerous, the even tone masking the fury behind his words.
I took another deep breath. I looked my father in the eyes. "I didn't think about you then. All I was thinking about was how to support myself. It was survival mode, I guess."
"So you chose to become a prostitute?" He ran his hands through what remained of his hair, making it stick up in crazy directions. "Was that really the best you could come up with?"
Shame flooded through me, but I held his gaze. "I tried waiting tables. I got fired. I tried giving surfing lessons, but it wasn't enough money for an apartment and food. As you might remember, I have no skill set. The only things I studied were the bottom of a bottle, my surfboard, and the occasional hot model—okay, the more than occasional hot model."
He didn't say anything.
"I'm sorry I've disappointed you, but it's not like that's anything new, is it?" To my horror, I felt my eyes fill with tears. I took another deep breath and willed them back. I wasn't some stupid fourteen-year-old boy being chastised for another failing grade.
He watched my crumpling face, but I saw no softening on his. "I cut you off from your trust fund because you almost killed yourself, remember? When you stole my car and drove completely drunk? You're lucky to be alive. You're lucky you didn't kill someone. What kind of father would I be if I hadn't taken action? What would your poor mother have said if she'd lived to see that?" He sat back in his chair. "If I hadn't done it then, son, I would
n't ever have done it, and I was worried the next phone call I got from the police would be telling me that you were dead."
I scrubbed my hands over my face. "I know I've made some bad decisions—a lot of bad decisions—and I understand why you did what you did. I was out of control."
Pierce nodded. "It's a first to hear you say that. But that doesn't make it okay that you're… hooking. Or whatever you call it. And whatever it is you're doing with Lowell—that's just beyond my comprehension." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he always did when he was really frustrated, as though he was trying to open his airways to get more oxygen to his brain.
As if that was gonna help his son not be a hooker.
"The escort job just sort of fell into my lap. It wasn't like I had a lot of other options at the time. And I've only done it for a few months," I said quickly. I wished that I didn't feel as though I owed him an explanation, but now that we were sitting across from each other, the words just poured out. "But this thing with Lowell is different. She called the service I work for because she needed to hire someone for PR. She was in a bind. I've been helping her—strictly business. And I've already left the escort service. I'm doing this just to help her now."
Pierce's eyes softened but only for a moment. "I studied up on her. She was in trouble because she was drunk in public, right? And she threw up on a police officer?"
"That's right. It was a PR disaster."
Pierce snorted. "Obviously. But did she really think hiring a prostitute would save the day?"
"She's smart, Dad. She understands how the industry works. It's like if you flash something shiny in front of them, they get confused and can't remember what they were doing."
"And you're the shiny thing." He pinched the bridge of his nose again. "But this is all for show? The relationship part that the press is having a field day with?"
I nodded.
"What does her mother have to say about it?"
"She doesn't know. She's out of the country right now."
"Lucky her."
I waited until he removed his hand from the bridge of his nose. "Dad?"
He sat up straight and looked at me. "You need to stop working for her and never go back to that… lifestyle… again. We can make some sort of arrangement. I realize that I might have been too harsh. Cutting you off like that wasn't the right thing to do. I didn't give you any options. I should have made you get a job and go to school."
"You'd already given me options. You tried, remember? I was stubborn. I wasn't ready to grow up. But I've changed—this experience changed me."
"Please." He winced and held up his hand to stop me. "I don't want to know."
We were both quiet for a minute, but I realized that the pit in my stomach had dissipated. Telling my father the truth felt good.
"I'm thinking of where I can use you right now. I could actually use some help in the publicity department for my new app launch." He pointed at the office around him, which was bare and academic, holding just a messy bookcase and a scarred desk. "People I'm working with are great, but they're not public-image savvy. I'm hiring an agency… maybe you could be my liaison with them. Help me get the exact branding I'm looking for."
