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I didn’t know why, but that thought struck me as important.
“Music lessons, huh?” Dominic asked after a little while. He’d been mostly focused on his ice cream and looking all around, taking in the scene. “What instrument?”
I took a bite of my ice cream, smirking. “I’m supposed to be interviewing you. Not the other way around.”
“A good interviewer builds rapport with their subject.”
“Touche. It was piano. My dad was a college professor back then and was always trying to get his big break writing for journals.”
“Ah,” Dominic said, nodding as if he’d already pieced it all together from the sparse details. “Let me guess. You got into writing because it was what your dad wanted?” Without waiting for an answer, he nodded again, smiling to himself. “Yeah, it makes sense now. You hate my guts, but you still like pleasing people. That’s one reason you’re so obnoxiously good at your job, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure if that was a compliment,” I said carefully.
“I don’t give compliments.”
I rolled my eyes and folded my arms. “Why do you try so hard to be such a grump? It’s pretty obvious you’re forcing it.”
“I wasn’t done building rapport.” His gaze locked with mine and a spark of fire ran through me.God,with one look, it was like he could cut straight to my core and make me feel so…seen.
“Well, as a matter of fact, you’re not entirely correct. Dad didn’t necessarily care if I became a writer like him. He just wanted Eloise and me to do something meaningful with our lives. He’d say things like chasing a paycheck was for pawns in the system, or you can’t take money with you after you’re gone, but you can leave your reputation behind. Back then, I wanted to play soccer and basketball, but he’d only get us lessons for things like piano or a private art tutor for Eloise.”
“Do you still play? The piano, I mean.”
“No,” I said. I looked down as a sudden wave of sadness washed over me. “It brings back bad memories, I guess. I spent a few years really trying to get good. Eloise was thriving with art and dad was always so proud. Then there was me, never really managing to do anything but reach ‘expected competence.’ That was his phrase for it. Like when you’re as good at something as you probably should be, given the work you’ve put in. He’d talk about it like it was a knock against me, and it drove me crazy. It never felt like I could try hard enough to make him happy. So when I started getting some emails home from teachers saying I was excelling with writing, everything changed. He let me give up the piano lessons and started giving me mock assignments every night and making me hit deadlines.” I flashed a sour smile. “I’ve been training for this since I was in pigtails, basically.”
Dominic scowled. “Fuck your dad.”
My eyebrows bunched together. “Aren’t you supposed to at least pretend to like my dad? It’s not exactly the best way to start a r–” I hesitated. I’d been about to say it wasn’t the best way to start a relationship, like thiswasa date and not an interview. My cheeks burned red.
Dominic smirked. “I’ve never pretended to like someone and I’m not about to start now. Fuck pretending. It’s a waste of time, and time is one thing I never waste.”
Everything about him was always so intense. Maybe it should’ve been off-putting, but it sort of made me feel like I was seeing life in higher resolution when I talked to him. “Was it really so wrong of my dad to push me to write? I can never completely decide. I mean, couldn’t you say he just wanted what was best for me?“
“It was your dad wanting what was best forhim, from the sounds of it. That’s why Eloise does art, right? Your dad pushed it on her.”
“Sort of, but sort of not. He pushed her to try it, but she loved it once she started. She always had a talent for it. He brags about her all the time to his old college teacher friends. He had to quit teaching and take up real estate when money got tight and the journals stopped showing interest in his submissions. I know he’s super ashamed about it because it’s not the kind of thing he sees as ‘meaningful.’”
“So he tries to get his daughters to do what he couldn’t. That’s why he looks down on you working forThe Squawker?Because of his own insecurities?”
I chuckled, but there wasn’t much humor in the sound. “I didn’t realize it was so obvious. But yeah, I think you’ve pretty much figured out why my childhood was so fucked up after hearing my dad speak for about fifteen seconds. That’s impressive.”
He took a bite of his ice cream, nodding thoughtfully. “I meant what I said, Darcy. About wanting to fire you and not being able to.Yet,” he added with a rare grin. “With the headaches you caused me, you would’ve been gone if I had the slightest excuse. But you’re good at what you do, and that’s not a compliment. It’s a grudging acknowledgment of the state of things.”
I smiled, chewing my lip. “It sounded a lot like a compliment, and you can’t stop me from taking it as one.”
“Sounds like I need to bruise that ego of yours now before it gets too big. Like mine.”
I remembered calling him out in front of the staff that first day and cupped my hands around my eyes, ducking my head a little. “Maybe I should apologize for saying you needed a bigger office to fit an ego your size.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said seriously. “People have always avoided speaking their mind to me. I mean, there’s Marcus and Tristan, but everybody else…” he pursed his lips and shook his head, as if he didn’t know why he’d even brought it up.
I was tempted to press him to continue, but I didn’t think I needed to hear the rest to know what he meant. A guy who looked like him coming from the family he came from probably had to deal with either flattery or fear. People probably always wanted something from him. I could see how me being a smartass might actually feel like a refreshing change.
I felt my ice cream drip on my hand and realized I’d been too absorbed in the conversation to touch it for several minutes. I took a quick bite, and decided to change the subject. “Well, I did want to say it meant a lot to me. The way you stood up for me back there. I’ve never really tried to tell my dad how I feel about him dismissing what I do, but it felt good to know he heard it. Maybe he’ll realize what a dick he’s been after that.”
“Yeah, well… don’t start getting emotional.”
I grinned behind my ice cream, then my attention drifted to a group of teen girls who came to sit outside at one of the other tables. They immediately started giggling and whispering to each other when they saw Dominic. I couldn’t say I really blamed them. As a teen, I probably would’ve had a hormonal meltdown if I saw him. Adult me wasn’t faring much better, actually. It was a constant battle with my body around him. Every bone in my body wanted to jump over the table and mount him. My brain was like a chaperone at a pre-K field trip trying to tell the kids not to jump the fence of the gorilla enclosure to get a closer look. It was a constant, mostly losing battle.
