“Showtime,” he said, sliding the phone back into his pocket.
As if on cue, the doorbell rang—the sound ominous as it chimed through the airy hallway with the long, wooden entry table decorated with antique ivory figurines.
Without any hesitation, Dad released Mom’s hand, grabbed the curved brass handles, and threw open the doors as if he were holding a party and his invited guests had arrived.
Two female reporters crowded inward, holding their mics to his face. A cameraman panned across my parents with his big lens.
In the distance, past the running water fountains and sculpted front lawn, two news vans lined the street. A third incoming van, with the station logo in red letters on a white background, squealed to a stop, nearly taking out the fire hydrant near the sidewalk.
“Mr. Kingston,” a lady with long brown hair and a wide smile said, “I’m Laura Dane with KTBC. Can you tell us about the recent allegations of the misappropriations of funds at Tillman, Incorporated?”
“Thank you for coming, Laura.” I couldn’t see my dad’s face, but his voice lowered to the smooth tone he used when he wanted something.
The reporters glanced at one another, their eyes widening in confusion before settling their focus back on my parents.
“As you know, the recent allegations are just that…allegations. Everything will be cleared up in the morning, I have no doubt. But in the meantime—”
“Mr. Kingston, the company’s accounting team is being interviewed by federal investigators. I have a hard time believing things are going to be taken care of in a matter of a few hours.” The opposite reporter, her hair in a high ponytail, gave my father a patronizing smile, her pink lips shiny with gloss. “Is it true this happened under your watch?”
Dad turned to the side. His hard stare landed on Lana, then me. He twirled a finger and motioned us forward, cramming us between himself and Mom.
He turned back to the growing crowd of camera operators and reporters. “I’d hoped to wait another week or so before making this announcement…” He clucked his tongue in mock disapproval. “But since you’re forcing my hand, I guess now is as good a time as any to relay the big project Tillman, Inc. is investing in.” He squeezed my shoulder.
Lana gave me a quick smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
The other news lady, her coffee-colored gaze sharp, gave my father a cold smirk. “Sir, our viewers demand answers, and—”
“And that is what I’m doing—giving you an answer. Tillman is investing ten million dollars into the Arizona youth who are at risk. We’d been hoping to announce this later, after we’d had more preparation, but you’ve discovered our little secret and its funding.”
I peeked up at my father.
His fake smile beamed, and his stance relaxed, but his fingers dug into my skin. Not painful, exactly, but almost as if he were using me as a focal point.
“You see, our company’s future depends on the youth of today, and we want to give back, to give those a chance who might otherwise not be able to break out of the mold. And we’re prepared to put our money where our mouth is, so to speak.” He took a breath, then slid his hand from me to my mother, grabbing her by the waist to pull her in tighter, giving the cameras a picture of a perfect family. “We’ll be fostering our first at-risk youth by the end of the week as the first step in this ambitious new charity.”
What?This is the first I’ve ever heard about it.
He was lying, surely, but I also knew I’d be in serious trouble if I called him out or disappointed him in any way. Carefully, I kept my face a mask as I peered at the reporters.
Lana’s tiny hand crept into mine and I gave it a reassuring squeeze.
More news people continued to cram their way up the lawn and jostle one another as they held out cell phones and cameras to record the interview.
“Wait. Are you saying the missing funds are actually for this—” Laura’s brow creased. “—this charity?” Her voice held a slight note of skepticism. She placed a free hand on her hip.
“That’s right. Terri and Lana here have been looking forward to their foster brother’s arrival.” He chuckled. “And I’m sure Paxton Ross will enjoy his stay with us. It’ll be wonderful to have my best friend’s son as part of the family. I can only hope to give the boy the kind of loving home environment he deserves, which is what our new program will strive for when it’s fully up and running.”
I crinkled my nose.Paxton Ross?I vaguely recalled my dad mentioning him before in passing, but it was usually when he was talking about the guy’s dad, Rhett Ross, who’d been an Oscar-winning music composer years ago until he’d gotten into trouble with drugs. He and Dad hadn’t spoken in years, since I was probably seven. Several weeks ago, though, Rhett had died from an overdose.
I’d seen a picture of Paxton on Dad’s phone when he’d returned from the funeral. Lanky and tall, the boy’s dark hair always seemed to cover most of his face. From what I could remember, Paxton’s mother had died before he’d turned twelve. His father had never remarried.
For some reason, Paxton struck me as reserved and intense. He didn’t smile in the photo with my dad. Of course, that could’ve been because his father had just died, but still. Those ocean eyes seemed empty, lost.
Is Dad seriously going to be bringing this guy into our house? And how would fostering him help stop whatever trouble the company is in?My mind swirled trying to guess Dad’s motives, but I kept my face blank.
“Mr. Kingston, can we get back on topic? The accusations…” The reporter tipped her head backward as she narrowed her gaze, pursing her lips. “Wait, did you say you’re going to be adopting Rhett Ross’s son?” She pushed her microphone closer.
And just like that, my dad took control of the future and changed our lives forever.
