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She fidgets almost nonstop. She hardly touches her chicken quesadilla. Annabeth’s mouth drops open only to snap shut again, like she wants to say something only to think against it.
“You’re seriously freaking me out,” I tell her, deciding to get this over with. “You have something to say, say it.”
“I see you grew up to be really…”
“Bitchy?”
“No!” my mother says hastily. “No, I wasn’t going to call you bitchy. Assertive, more like?”
I shrug. “Had to be. Someone had to keep Dad in line.”
She chuckles, but it’s a half-hearted sound. “Hunter told me that Thomas had to go to the hospital the other day. Is he alright?”
“What do you care?”
I know I’m being harsh, but can anyone really blame me for my animosity? I have to remind myself to take a deep breath. I recognize that Annabeth is trying to be polite. I shouldn’t constantly be jumping down her throat like this.
“Sorry,” I grumble. “He’s better. Getting the help he needs.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Her shoulders relax slightly. “And Hunter tells me you took your MCAT exam? That’s really impressive.”
“You and Hunter spend a lot of time together.” It’s supposed to be a simple observation, but even I can’t deny the… jealousy behind the statement.
“He’s my director, Eden. It’s only natural that we get to talking.”
I lean back in my seat. We’ve got a booth in the back of the restaurant, so we at least have some semblance of privacy. “What do you want, Annabeth?”
“To spend time with you.”
“Why now?” My throat gets tight.Here we go. “You didn’t bother coming to visit me after the divorce, so why now? What’s changed?”
Annabeth takes a deep breath. She’s quiet for a long time before she finally says, “Do you know who Jack Walton is?”
I grind my teeth, sit up a bit straight.What does she know about Jack Walton, I wonder? “He’s been popping up everywhere lately. Who the hell is he?”
“The worst of the worst,” Annabeth says with a sneer.
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
“He was…isa loan shark. A very powerful one.”
“O…kay?”
“Your father really wanted to get his movie off the ground, but he was a nobody back then. He didn’t have the pull he needed to convince investors to help him produce it, so…” Annabeth shook her head, her eyes distant and far away.
My stomach does another flip. “Did Dad take a loan out?” I ask, my throat raspy and dry.
Annabeth nods. “Unfortunately.”
“But he paid Walton back, right?”
Her jaw tenses. “No.”
A sudden wave of nausea crashes into me. I don’t like this. “Dad said something about… owing Jack Walton money.”
“Recently?” I nod slowly. Annabeth sighs.
“Yeah. He apparently borrowed some money for his film.”
