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“Well, alright then,” he looks at me. “So, what’s the next step?”
“I don’t know, wait for J.R….see what he thinks?” I rub my eyes, willing the headache away that comes whenever I’m preparing to be in the presence of either of my parents. I down the rest of my drink and Andrew raises an eyebrow at me.
“Alright, I’ll pour us a round,” he says pulling the glass from me and moving towards the kitchen.
“IKNEW THIS WAS GOINGto happen. How could you not be more careful? You’re telling me you couldn’t have kept it in your pants until her divorce was finalized?” J.R. asks, the judgment dripping from his voice as he paces the length of my living room. Charley and I are seated on the couch like children in trouble as my father reads us the riot act.
I rub a hand over my forehead, recalling a time where I’d sat on the custom-made, leather couch that my mother had flown in from Italy. I was nine years old, trying to hold back my tears of embarrassment, as I hid the pain of my father’s disapproval over not making the soccer team.
“We practiced for hours yesterday. What happened?” He shook his head, the disappointment all over his face.
“I don’t know how you missed the athletic gene. It looks as if your brother got them all.” He throws his hands up in defeat.
I look down, humiliated and unable to meet his gaze.
“J.R., lay off. Yelling at them now isn’t helping,” my brother interjects. My eyes shoot up, finding my brother, and I can’t keep my fist from flexing slightly as I’m pulled out of the final moments of my trip down memory lane. “It’s done, it’s over with. Her husband knows.”
“I’m shocked we haven’t yet heard from Stein. Do we think that there’s any chance he hasn’t told his lawyers?” my father asks, his question geared more towards Charlotte—she does know him better than anyone else in the room.
I don’t want to discuss the matter of the email in front of Charley because I haven’t told her yet, but I shake my head anyway, answering the question for her. “I mean there’s a chance. The fact that I haven’t heard anything means he hasn’t. The second the board gets wind of this, trust me, I’ll know.” I haven’t given much thought to what I will do if the board finds out about my indiscretions. If I were no longer able to practice…if they revoke my license.
Where do I go from here?
I look over at Charley and notice her fidgeting, her hands rubbing her thighs nervously. I take one of her hands in mine and bring it to my lips.
Wherever I go, this woman will be by my side.
“I want to know why Matt just arbitrarily showed up,” J.R. questions.
“Apparently, he was having Charlotte followed,” I answer.
My father crosses his arms and stares down at us.” Apparently?”
“He knows about the house. Evidently, his PI followed us there.” I sigh, leaning back against the couch as the energy slowly leaves my body. I had a slight buzz earlier, but now it is wearing off and the exhaustion of the day and this conversation with my father is weighing on me.
My father looks back and forth between us, and even at my brother, as if he has the answer to the question written all over his face. He takes a step closer, towering over us. “House?”
“I bought a house.”
“For what reason?” my father asks.
I resist the snort at his ridiculous question. My father drilled the importance of the real estate business into both me and my brother as we left college and entered the “real world.”
I cock my head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “For Charlotte and me to live, J.R., why the hell do you think?”
“And his guy followed you to your future love nest,” he shakes his head. “Fucking fantastic. I’ve really got my work cut out for me.” He pulls his jacket off and fiddles with his cufflinks in the way that all pretentious assholes do. “Tell me you have something over Macallan twelve.” He crosses the room like he owns it, and I happen to catch Charley’s look of indignation as she follows him with her eyes.
That is one of the few things J.R. and I have in common. Our taste in Scotch.
That taste that almost ruined my future.
Ruined me.
I clear my throat. “I opened a bottle of eighteen earlier.” He seems pleased with my answer and opens the bottle, pouring himself a glass. “I think we need to meet with him.” My father suggests.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Charley’s sweet voice floods the room. “I just…he’s unreasonable right now. And unstable, and I just…worry…” She trails off and I can already hear where her mind is going.She’s worried about me.
I smile at her and give her a kiss on her temple. “Don’t worry.”I know the perfect way to get Matt alone based on his most recent communication.I pull her into a hug, shielding her from J.R. when I shoot him a look and point to him and then my office. He nods in understanding.
