“Mom and I have our issues, Dad, but we connect on one thing: you. She loves you. You have nothing to prove to her.”
“But I want to,” he says. “I need to do this for her. And for me.”
“Okay. I understand. But you need to know that she’s pressuring me to get you onLion’s Denagain. She believes you will rock their world. That’s how much she believes in you. And I really wish youwould have warned me about that whole situation. I was sideswiped when she told me about it.”
“I should have warned you.” He squeezed my leg. “I’m sorry.”
“What is going on with that, Dad? Why aren’t you telling her?”
He runs a rough hand through his hair. “It’s complicated. Big Davis, that asshole fromLion’s Den, is now bidding on my patent.”
I blink. “What? Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was. He’s bullying the other bidders, threatening to pull out of other deals he has in the works with several key players. The asshole seems to have his hand in everything.”
My brow dips. “Why does he want it? What is really going on here?”
“You know why. He made a fool of me. I can’t be a winner now.”
“Surely it’s not that simple. That’s an expensive I told you so.”
“You’re right. It’s not,” he confirms. “He wants to kill my patent because it hurts another product line he’s involved in. In other words, your mother and I will get paid and paid well, but the work I did gets buried. It’s not the ending I was looking for.”
“Is there nothing the attorney can do?”
“He’s trying. And I can say this—Jess hooked me up with the right guy. If anyone can fix it, he can.”
“Why are you being pushed to doLion’s Den?” I ask. “Is that some game he’s playing with you?”
“The attorney thinks he just hopes I’ll want to save face and go on the show to get the press. The attorney also thinks that would be a foolish decision on my part.” He looks me in the eyes. “I’ll talk to Mom,” he states again. “I didn’t mean to put that pressure on you.”
“You’re sure about the affair? I mean her new boss—”
“No affair. I even had her followed at the recent convention. Nothing happened. Not even close. But I don’t want her to know I didn’t trust her. Please don’t tell her what I did.”
“My lips are sealed.” I zip my finger across my mouth.
“I know they are, baby girl.” He motions to my dessert. “Eat. You love strawberry shortcake, and so do I.”
We both pick up our desserts, but he’s not focused on strawberries and whipped cream. He’s focused on me. “What’s new in your life?”
In my head, I say everything I want to say. My ex was murdered in front of me last night, throat sliced, and now I’m being held captive by a madman, but what I say is, “Good books. Always good books.” I leave it at that, and he lets me, when I know he knows there’s more. I just don’t think he has the capacity to truly worry about me right now. He needs me to be okay. He needs to believe my life is still just books, and more books. Without haste, I finish my dessert, and then I say my goodbyes to both my parents. It’s time for my mother and father to talk.
Without me.
On the Uber ride home, my anger is palpable. That jerk Big Davis fromLion’s Denis pure evil.
He ranks right up there with Adam. He really does. He destroys lives. If anyone deserved to die, it was him, not Kevin. And I didn’t even like Kevin in the end. I just didn’t want him to die.
Chapter Sixty
Once I’m inside my Uber, headed home, I dial Jess, needing to vent over Big Davis, the ultimate jerk ofLion’s Den, but I end up in her voicemail. Next up is Jack, and he, too, doesn’t answer. I want to scream in frustration, but my Uber driver probably would not appreciate my voice, even with a trade-off of a large tip.
I arrive at my loft while the bookstore is still open—of course it’s open. It’s Sunday and one of their biggest sales days. With my lips pressed together, I hesitate in the foyer that leads to the store or the steps to my loft, contemplating Ben showing up here last night. The entire situation was strange, and I consider entering the store and mentioning this to the owners, but thus far they’re pro Ben. He can do no wrong. For all I know, he’s a family member of some sort. Honestly, I don’t know why I’ve never asked that question. I don’t know a lot of things right now. I’m also not exactly in the best of moods to deal with them and not sure I’d handle myself well. Not to mention, I don’t really need to be talking about my late arrival home last night with anyone, when Kevin died last night. While I watched.Oh God,Kevin.How have I not even thought of his death—no, hismurder—in hours?
I hurry up the stairs and stop dead in my tracks at the landing. There’s another box sitting in front of my loft door.Another box. Another red ribbon.My hands go to the top of my head. “No. No. No.” All I can think of is that this is another dress, meant to be worn to yet anothermurder event. Or maybe this time this really is Kevin’s severed head. This is, really actually, an insane thought. Of course it’s not Kevin’s head. It’s not.
That was in a movie. I can’t even remember the movie. Brad Pitt was in it, I think. Or maybe it was a book. But, damn it, right now it doesn’t feel like all things fiction are really fiction at all, not anymore. Not for me.
