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“You want to do what?”Ansen asks in pure disbelief.
“I want to reveal who I am to the tabloids. And in doing that they’re going to ask questions. They’re going to dig for more information. I’d rather the info come from me. I want to tell them everything that happened the night my father died.”
Ansen remains silent, staring at me in disbelief from where he’s seated next to Eli on the other side of my desk. He was surprised I asked him to come in and meet with me before everyone else arrived today. Usually, he’s the one calling the meetings, not me.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he finally confesses. “What your mother and I did, there was a reason for it, and though you may never understand why, I don’t think the rest of the world needs to dredge up the past. This might take the heat off the two of you for a little while, but magazines like this … they never stop digging. They can’t help themselves.”
My brows pinch together in confusion. “What do you mean what you and my mom did?”
I knew there was more to the story. Details my mother was keeping from me.
“Neither of us ever spoke about your dad’s death. We were mute on the subject. After his funeral, your mother shut herself away, and I did the same. No one really knows what happened that night but the two of us and the police.”
“And the police didn’t release any details?” I ask, lifting my brow at him skeptically.
Steve’s avoiding eye contact, fidgeting with his hands. And for the first time since meeting Steve Ansen, I’m not scared of him. I’m not confused about how I feel about him or this situation.
I can tell this is hard for him, so if he doesn’t want me to say anything I won’t, but I’m doing the interview regardless.
Eli and I talked about it in depth last night over dinner. Martha made a tex-mex dish and some kind of fried cinnamon dessert that I couldn’t get enough of.
Eli agrees with my decision. Get it all out there and let them talk. The buzz will die down. Life will go back to normal. Sure, we might end up on the front page occasionally but only if something major catches their attention.
His example was our engagement, which caused me to choke on the sugary-sweet dessert I had just stuffed in my mouth.
I countered his example with our breakup. The frown he gave me in response made me laugh, which also made me choke on my dessert.
I’m lucky to be alive this morning.
“Your mother isn’t an easy woman to please, you know this,” Ansen finally says after letting out a long sigh. “She was adamant about no one knowing the details of what happened. Your father had a hero complex. That’s what made him great at what he did. His ideas were always over the top, bigger than you’d imagine. So, her first order of business was to pay off the cops to seal the report. No one was allowed to talk about it. She even had her lawyer draw up a contract. The contract I’m in breach of just by talking about it with you,” he adds.
“It was the money, wasn’t it? That’s why you did it.”
“No, but that’s why the cops agreed. I did it to protect your father’s good name. And to appease your mother if I’m being honest. She blamed me, still does, as much as she blamed herself. My punishment was to be forced out of her life. Your life. Your father was my best friend, the only person I really trusted, which meant when he died, I did, too. It felt like I was all alone on a deserted island.”
“My mother had it all planned out, didn’t she?”
“She did, but things don’t always go as planned. There were rumors. A few details were leaked but nothing that was too damning.” Steve lets out a heavy breath as he looks up and makes eye contact for the first time. “She couldn’t bring herself to blame your father for his actions, when at the base of it all, he was to blame.”
My jaw drops open at his admission. How could he say something like that? Blame my father for his own death?
“What the hell, Steve?” Eli practically shouts, but Steve’s eyes never leave mine.
“We were in and out in two minutes. The ice cream was in the backseat, already starting to melt. It had been warm that night, close to eight degrees. Your father was about to back out of the parking lot when we spotted them. Two guys. Black sweatshirts with the hoods pulled up. Hands in their front pockets.
“We should have stayed in the car and called the police. Waited for them to arrive. But your father was a man of action. The girl working the register couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, and even though your mother thought he hadn’t realized what was going on, he knew she was pregnant. He knew he was about to be a father. And the thought of his child in a situation like that is what propelled him out of the car and back in the store before I could stop him.”
Taking a deep breath, Steve closes his eyes before letting it out slowly.
“I was only a few steps behind him. Screaming at him to turn around. Not to go inside. Two shots were fired, both hitting your father in the chest. Ten seconds later, I was holding him in my arms with a gun to my forehead. The cashier was cowering behind the counter while one of the guys cleared the register. They were rushing out of the store the second sirens were heard in the distance.”
My father was trying to be a hero. To save someone else’s daughter. To protect a young girl. And because of that, his life was stolen from him.
Looking to Eli, who’s been listening intently, I watch as he gives me a warm smile but doesn’t say anything. I know where he stands. Next to me. No matter what I decide.
“Thank you for telling me the truth. I don’t think my mother ever would have.”
